Christmas In Hiding. Cate Nolan

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      The train pulled into the next stop, and Jackson eyed the platform. If anyone had followed them, they should still be stuck on the express. “Come on, we’re getting off here.”

      “Already?”

      Jackson bit back a smile. Was that disappointment in her voice?

      He led her above ground and into the madness of the East Side at Christmas. Hailing a cab wasn’t quite as easy this time, but before too long he had them back in another car. He gave directions for the West Side and watched as Callie stared out the window. “Christmas in New York. Pure insanity.”

      She turned to him and smiled. “I still can’t get over the sheer number of people.”

      Something about her enthusiasm stirred a response in him. “I’m pretty used to crowds, but every once in a while it amazes me, too.”

      Within minutes, the cab pulled up in front of a hotel. After Jackson paid, he took her arm and helped her from the backseat. They walked to the hotel entry and waited under the awning. As soon as the cab turned the corner, Jackson urged her in the other direction.

      Callie turned a skeptical gaze on him. “I can’t believe anyone could still be following us—if they ever were. I’m so lost, even I couldn’t find us.”

      “Not too much longer now.”

      She sighed and started walking. “You seem to know your way around. How long have you lived here?”

      “I don’t. I’m just here because of you. Ben probably didn’t have a chance to tell you, but I was scheduled to replace him. He’s needed back in Texas. I’ll stay and take you in to trial.”

      Callie paused and rested against an office building. Eyes closed, she drew in breaths. After a minute, she started walking again. He drew alongside her and rested his hand on her arm. “What is it?”

      “Nothing.” She shrugged away from his hand. “I’m just still trying to wrap my head around all this. Around the idea that all of your lives are revolving around me. I feel like I should say I’m sorry.”

      Jackson’s senses went on alert. “Why sorry?”

      “That you have to be here, away from home, just because I am.”

      He shrugged. “It’s my job.” That was life as a federal marshal. Holidays were pretty much like any other day. It suited him fine.

      “I don’t suppose there’s any chance we can stop for coffee?”

      Jackson looked ahead to the familiar green sign that had caught her eye as they turned the corner. He hated the longing in her voice and that he couldn’t do anything to help. “Sorry. Not until I’m sure we’re clear.”

      She nodded and kept walking, but Jackson felt a twinge of remorse. She looked exhausted and anxious. Would it have hurt to stop? Maybe not, but he was taking no chances when they were this close to their safe house.

      “This way.” He glanced quickly left and right, then led her across the street and up the hotel steps. They crossed a crowded lobby, directly to the elevator bank. “We’ve got a room already,” he said quietly. “You’re going to stay here until we have a better idea what happened. There’s another pair of marshals on duty up there. You’ll be safe.”

      He hoped.

      After depositing Callie in the hotel room, Jackson headed back out. He needed some information, needed to talk, hopefully to Ben if he was able, definitely to the assistant US attorney and the DEA agent. Once he’d spoken with them, he’d call his home office. They had to figure out what had gone so terribly wrong. Before it happened again.

      Jackson reached for his phone to call the hospital but hesitated when he spied the coffee shop logo. The calls could wait a few minutes.

      Fifteen minutes later Jackson handed off cups of coffee to the marshals on duty before entering the hotel suite.

      Though Callie looked startled to see him back so soon, her apprehensive expression melted into a smile when she spotted what was in his hands. That smile made it worth all the lost time he’d spent waiting behind Christmas shoppers in a long line.

      She accepted the cup from him and took a sip. “Ahh, perfect. Just the way I like it. How did you guess?”

      Jackson shifted, uneasy with the praise. “It’s in your file.”

       TWO

      It’s in your file.

      The door closed behind Jackson, but his words lingered, sending shivers down Callie’s spine. Of course she had a file. She just hadn’t really thought of it in those terms before. That somewhere there was a folder—most likely on some computer database—with all her information. Even the way she took her coffee.

      If her file included minor details like coffee preferences, what else did it hold? The idea that Jackson, a man she’d just met, knew her personal information, even secrets she guarded from the rest of the world, left her feeling vulnerable in a new and profound way.

      Did they know who her mother was? The thought struck from out of the blue. Callie’s fingers curled into fists as she fought to contain the rising dread. Wouldn’t that be ironic if they knew more about her life than she did?

      Callie crawled up on the sofa. Cradling the coffee cup in her hands, she gently rocked, seeking calm. How had her life come to this?

      Sometimes she thought she’d been asking that same question for three straight months. How had her life gone from being ordinary—her days spent teaching kindergarten—to this constant danger? Three months ago she’d been sitting at her kitchen table writing lesson plans. Now she was in hiding from the kind of dangerous men she’d thought only existed in movies.

      She couldn’t even begin to comprehend all she had lost. Not long ago she’d been wondering if she and Rick had a future together. Now he was buried in his family’s plot in a remote Texas graveyard, and she was left to deal with the fallout.

      She didn’t doubt her decision to break up with him. If nothing else, everything that followed had proved the wisdom of that choice. But with each day in witness protection, her dream of a family seemed farther and farther away.

      For the umpteenth time in her life she was alone.

      As a former foster kid who’d been bumped around from house to house during her childhood, she should have developed a thick enough skin to handle it. Should have. But the ache never went away. The longing for a real family remained. It especially hurt at this time of year.

      Restless with the memories, Callie rose and drifted around the hotel room. It was too fancy, almost sterile. She couldn’t even find a safe place to set the coffee down without fear of leaving a ring. The suite was more luxurious than any place she’d ever stayed before. New York was so far removed from her small-town Texas life.

      She wandered over to the window. If Ben were here, he’d make her step back. Feeling defiant, Callie pressed her head against the glass. Fifteen floors below, people hustled along the street. СКАЧАТЬ