me what happened.”
Frowning, Brenda picked up the report. “Dirk escaped. No one knows how. Guards suspect he was taken out in a laundry bag to the laundry truck, and he took off from there. No witnesses, though. This is all possibility, not fact. He had to have help. His cell buddies are being interrogated as I speak. And his visitors are being questioned.”
“What does this mean for me?” Susan whispered. “I have a new name, a new identity. He doesn’t know I’m living here in New York City.” It was a long way from Miami, Florida. Dirk hated the northeast because of the cold winters.
Lips twisting, Brenda said, “Hon, I know you’ve made a great life for yourself as a nanny here, and you’re doing well in art school. I know you want to become a children’s book illustrator someday.” With a deeper frown, Brenda added in a softer voice, “But for your own safety, Susan, you’re going to have to leave New York City for a while.”
“But…”
Hand held up, Brenda said, “Listen to me. You’re easy to find here. There’s a lot of vermin, too. My boss also feels you would be safer away from the east coast. In a place where you can disappear. Don’t worry, we’ll do all the moving for you.”
“Where?” Susan felt trapped.
“Jackson Hole, Wyoming. It’s out in the middle of godforsaken nowhere. And knowing Payson’s hatred of cold places, it’s perfect for you. Plus, with him on the loose, you don’t want him to flash a photo of you at the school and have someone recognize you. New York is a big town but it can be a small town. That’s why we’re moving you, hon. You need a new place and a new identity.”
“That means you don’t anticipate finding him soon,” Susan said in a low tone. That meant her mother, who was also in the witness protection program, was affected. But so were her brothers, who lived on the family farm where she’d been born in Iowa. “You promised if he ever broke out of prison, you’d protect my family. What about my mom? My brothers at our farm? Are you doing that?”
“Already done,” Brenda assured her. “We’re working with local and state police. Your family has been warned in Iowa. And your mother is fine. We’re not moving her. We feel she’s fine where she is. They know Dirk escaped, and your brothers will be guarded 24/7 by those police agencies.”
Relief poured through Susan. “Are you sure they’ll be—”
“I am.” Brenda sat up. “Listen, you need to move, Susan. I can see in your face that you don’t want to, but you have to. We can’t risk Payson finding you here.”
“I don’t think he will,” Susan said, her voice strong. “I have my friends, Brenda. I have a publishing contact, the art department and—”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Susan’s stomach knotted. “The last five years of my life I’ve found some peace, Brenda. I—I still haven’t come to grips with losing my baby girl.” She wanted to say the baby’s name, but the word Sarah froze on her lips. To say it would make her lose all control. “I’m putting myself through art school with your help. I have a job I love and I’m good at it. I’m a nanny, but I want to tap into my other talents. I make ends meet without FBI financial assistance except for the school tuition. I shouldn’t have to do this! Everything that makes me secure is here. I’ve just begun to feel safe.”
Brenda’s eyes narrowed. The woman’s heavily made-up face seemed as if it would crack from tension. Already, Susan was crying inwardly. Brenda had saved her life, gotten her through the court hearings, the trial and then swept her into the witness protection program. In some ways, Brenda was like a mother to her.
“I’m sorry, Susan. I know how much you’ve blossomed here in New York. But I can’t be persuaded to let you stay here. If Payson gets hold of you, he’ll kill you. We both know that. His threat to you is part of the court testimony. Don’t you want to live?”
“I want to live, not hide!” Susan cried out, her hands convulsing into fists in her lap. “I’m tired of this charade, Brenda. I want so badly to visit my mother, my brothers, but I can’t. All I’m allowed is a monthly phone call with my mother. I can’t ever see them! Do you know what that’s like? I feel like I’m dead already!”
Brenda sat back, tapping her red nails on the glass over the desk. “I do understand,” she said gently. “Isn’t half a life better than no life?”
Shutting her eyes, Susan fought back tears. She’d cried hardly at all since waking up in the hospital, but the grief was still locked up within her. The shock, the stresses and pressures of the hiding, the FBI agents always in the next room protecting her, the nightmares and PTSD symptoms conspired against her. Right now, Susan felt on the edge of nothing. She could close her eyes and see her pathetic, thin figure balanced on her toes over a precipice that had no bottom.
“Susan?”
Opening her eyes, she drilled Brenda with a glare. “I’m the victim here. I was the one who was gut-punched. Dirk killed our baby.”
“He damn near killed you, too. If that FBI agent who was there for surveillance hadn’t pulled over after you stumbled out of that house with your nose bleeding, you’d be dead. When the agent saw you, he moved into action. He saved your life, Susan. You owe it to him and your family to keep going. I know it’s hard. I know you want to see them. But right now, you must move. We have to put you out in the middle of nowhere. We’ve had a team on this for six hours trying to figure out, based upon Payson’s profile, where in the U.S.A. he would not look for you. Wyoming tops that list.”
Nodding, Susan looked down at her white fingers. Once again, her world was coming to an explosive, chaotic halt. Once more, her life was in jeopardy. Worse, this time it involved her mother and her brothers. Would Dirk go after them? He didn’t know where her mother was, thank God. But he did know where her brothers lived. They had refused witness protection.
The FBI had persuaded her mother to disappear and she’d reluctantly agreed. Would Dirk kill her brothers to get even? A cold, aching chill wove down her spine. Susan had weekly nightmares of Dirk stalking her family and killing them, one by one. This mess was all her fault, and yet, her family had stood by her. They’d believed in Susan, and in her testifying to put Dirk away for good. None of them had entertained the thought of him ever breaking out of prison.
“My mother knows I’m moving again?”
Brenda nodded. “She feels it’s the right thing for you to do, Susan.”
Clearing her throat, she whispered, “All right. Jackson Hole, Wyoming.”
“Yes.” Brenda sat up, relieved. She handed Susan a file. “We’ve rented a small house for you. It’s a cabin on a ranch. You can continue with your art career online and work long-distance with your teachers. We’ve changed your name, and all your records will reflect that. At least that stays solid and reliable.” She managed a thin smile, hoping to cheer Susan up. “You can pick up a job there as a nanny. Your new name,” she said, pulling over a file and opening it, “is Rachel Carson. We have a completely new identity for you, including a new social security number, driver’s license and a deep résumé should people check it.” Brenda handed her the envelope with the information.
“Then…I can’t tell my friends I’m leaving, can I?” It seemed unconscionable. None of her friends knew who she really was or what had happened to her. None ever would. Yet, to leave
