to disappear from my life.” He walked toward her, letting the streetlight fall on his face.
She frowned, her gaze dropping to his cheek and the ridge of scar tissue that bisected it. “The Martino family did that to you?”
“That’s not important.”
“Of course it is. We may not be together anymore, but I still care about you, and I’d hate to think that you were hurt because of me.”
“Maybe the fact that you feel that way means we should still be together.”
“I care, Ford. I’ve never pretended otherwise, but we both know it’s not enough. Pouring love into you is like pouring it into a black hole. It’s never filled and it never returns what it takes.”
“No need to hold your punches, Liv. Why not tell me exactly how you feel?” But she was right, that was exactly how it had been. Olivia giving affection and love. Ford taking it. He hadn’t meant it to be that way, hadn’t even realized it was that way until she’d walked out of their Chicago penthouse nearly fourteen months ago.
“If being blunt will get you back in your car and back in Chicago, that’s what I’ll be.”
“It won’t.” He moved toward her, searching her face, wondering about the dark circles beneath her eyes, the hollows in her cheeks. Was she eating right? Sleeping well?
“Please, Ford, don’t make this difficult. You being here has put both of us in danger. I’ve made a clean break from my old life, started a new one. I can’t have that jeopardized by your presence.”
“And you think I’m just going to walk away and leave you to face Vincent Martino’s trial alone?” he asked, knowing that was probably what she did think. He’d walked away plenty during their marriage, left her alone more times than he cared to admit. Maybe God hadn’t completely given up on Ford, because the second chance he’d been praying for was happening. A second chance to love Olivia the way she deserved to be loved, to create the home she’d often talked about. The one he’d stopped believing in the day his alcoholic father had walked out and left him and his three siblings to care for their drug-addicted mother. A home filled with love and laughter.
“You don’t have a choice. Neither do I. The U.S. Marshals have made it clear that I’m to have no contact with anyone from my previous life. Not you. Not my parents. Not my friends. Not the people I worked with. No one.”
“There’s something you and the marshals seem to have forgotten. I’m not part of your previous life. You and I are still married.”
“We’ve been separated for over a year.”
“We’ve been separated for less than four months. Or have you conveniently forgotten what happened in December.” The words were out before Ford could stop them, and he regretted them immediately.
Olivia stiffened, her eyes flashing with anger and hurt before she turned away.
“Liv—”
But she was already opening the door and sliding into her car.
He grabbed the door before she could close it. “Olivia, I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right.”
“What way would have been right?” she asked, then sighed and shook her head. “Never mind. I’ve got to go call my contact in the marshals. He’ll want to know you’ve found me. If he doesn’t already.”
“If he doesn’t, I’m going to want to know why not.”
“There’s no need to get macho and protective, Ford. The marshals have done a great job of keeping me safe so far. I’m sure they’re not shirking their duty now.”
“Two women in witness protection have been murdered in the past few months. Someone somewhere is shirking his duty.” The fact that both women had the hair like Olivia’s had made Ford all the more desperate to find her. There was no doubt Vincent Martino’s family planned to silence Olivia. They’d nearly killed Ford trying to find out where she was. Whether or not they’d mistaken the other two women for Olivia was something the FBI and the U.S. Marshals refused to speculate on. At least in their conversations with Ford.
“Micah told me two women had been killed, but I’m not sure their deaths mean the Marshals aren’t doing their jobs.”
“Micah McGraw?” Ford had spoken to him several times, but the way Olivia said the guy’s name made him sound like an old friend rather than someone being paid to keep her safe. The surge of jealousy he felt at the thought was as unwelcome as the guilt that had been eating at him since Olivia had run from her Chicago home and disappeared into the night while he discussed a real estate venture with an associate. He’d hung up the phone and tried to follow, but she’d been long gone before he’d managed to get out the front door. If he’d ignored his cell phone when it rang, if he’d refused to take the call, Olivia wouldn’t have been out walking beside the river when Vincent Martino committed cold-blooded murder.
“Yes. Micah is my contact, and he’s not going to be happy to know I hung around chatting with you when I should have been home packing. Thanks for caring enough to search for me, Ford, but as you can see, I’m fine.” She offered a quick smile, started to shut the door, but he held it open, leaning in so he could look in her eyes.
“I’m not walking out of your life, Olivia.”
“Why not? You were happy enough to let me walk out of yours fourteen months ago. Besides, our marriage has been over for a long time. What happened after Christmas was a mistake. It’s best if we both forget it.” She pulled the door from his hand, the sharp retort as she slammed it echoing through the parking lot.
Maybe Olivia was right. Maybe it was best if they both forgot what had happened in December. If they moved on with their lives, moved forward with the divorce that had seemed so inevitable when she’d packed a bag and walked out of their penthouse.
Maybe, but Ford didn’t think so.
It took him several seconds to cross the parking lot and get into his car. By the time he started the engine, Olivia was pulling out onto the street, her blue Ford disappearing from view. He followed, thankful that they were driving through the small town of Pine Bluff rather than Chicago. No way would he have been able to keep her in sight otherwise. As much as he’d always loved city life, he had to admit there were benefits to the small towns and rural communities he’d visited during his search for Olivia. Slower pace of life, quieter atmospheres, people who noticed what was going on in their communities and who cared. If not for them, Ford wouldn’t have known he was on the right track when he began searching for Olivia in Montana. The fact that two women who resembled Olivia had been murdered in the state had been reason enough to go there, but it wasn’t until he’d shown Olivia’s photograph to a few people in Billings who’d recognized her that Ford knew he should keep searching there.
Olivia pulled into the driveway of a 1920s bungalow, and Ford parked behind her, getting out of his car as she hurried to her front door. There was no doubt that she’d rather he leave, but Ford couldn’t. There was too much history between them, too much love buried beneath layers of resentment and pain. He wasn’t willing to give that up any more than he was willing to let Olivia face the danger she was in alone.
“Go home, Ford.” Olivia shoved the key in the lock as he stepped onto the porch, her long dark hair falling across her face and hiding her
