Agent Williams gets up from the chair and walks to the window. “I knew something wasn’t right toward the end of your time in the program, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. That’s why I had Agent Parker come in when we were moving you to Natchitoches. I needed some fresh eyes on your detail. She has been in another division and has never been on a case with any of the other agents in question. Since Arizona, we’ve narrowed it down to one of three agents; men who were on your detail from the beginning.”
“Which agents?” I ask.
Dad interrupts him. “Greg, maybe Ethan shouldn’t be here for this. I mean, this is family business.”
Ethan tenses beside me. I know it will be hard for him to be shut out of what’s happening.
I start to argue, but Agent Williams stops me. “Richard, this involves Ethan now. He saw Thomas in Arizona. Spoke with him. And for whatever reason, Thomas probably went through his truck in broad daylight in front of his house. There is something he wants and he wants it pretty badly to take those chances. I understand wanting to keep this private, but I think he should stay.”
Dad turns his back to the room; he doesn’t like not getting his way.
I’m not expecting Agent Williams to tell us who the suspected agents are, so I’m shocked when he says, “Agent Mullins, Agent Hammond, and Agent Webb are the three agents in question. Do you remember them, Anna?”
With all the moves, there were so many different agents. I tried really hard at first to remember their names but it became impossible, which is why I called all of them “suits.” But I do remember Agent Mullins and Agent Hammond. Agent Mullins was assigned to us in the first safe house and helped us understand how the program works and what we should expect. He was nice and patient, especially with Teeny. In the beginning, Agent Mullins was a common fixture when it came to ditching identities.
Agent Hammond was different. I’d seen him before but I didn’t learn his name until he showed up in Florida to relocate us. It was the night I was waiting for Tyler to pick me up. I remember him because I hated that move the most. I’d finally begun to have a life I was content with there. It wasn’t the same as Scottsdale, but I was happy—I had friends and a boyfriend, and life was starting to feel normal. I begged Agent Hammond to let me call Tyler, to make up some excuse of why we had to leave so he wouldn’t wonder forever about where I’d disappeared to. But he wouldn’t let me, and I hated him for that.
The only thing I have to remember Tyler by is the strip of pictures from a photo booth that I kept buried in my go-bag. It was months before I could look at it again without feeling sad.
“I remember the first two, but I don’t remember Agent Webb.”
“He was the agent on the scene with me the night your mother was taken to the hospital,” Agent Parker says.
My stomach drops at the mention of that night. The night Ethan dropped me at home and my mother was unconscious on the front steps. The night I thought my mother had finally drunk herself to death. After they pumped her stomach at the local hospital, she was shipped away to some rehab facility where she remains today.
“So, what now?” Dad asks. He doesn’t want to talk about that night any more than I do.
Any minute my death sentence will be handed down—that’s exactly what it will be like to leave Ethan and everyone else here. And what about Mom? Witness Protection sucked the life right out of her last go-around. This is not the “positive home environment” the doctors at rehab are asking us to create for her.
“Well, Richard, that’s the tricky part. Until I can figure out which one of these guys is the mole, we’re gonna have to go off the books on this one. If I don’t know who to trust, then I won’t trust anyone.”
Great. Way to inspire confidence.
Dad’s face turns so red that I expect steam to pour out of his ears. “I want this bastard caught. He was right there, was within inches of her, and no one knew it. He put a damn flower in her pocket, for Christ’s sake. He’s been in this house. What’s next?”
Dad smacks the coffee table with a rolled up fishing magazine and Teeny jerks awake.
It takes her a few seconds to orientate herself with where she is and what’s going on. She seems fine when she notices Agent Williams but starts to panic when she sees Agent Parker.
“Oh God! We’re moving, aren’t we? Is she going to dye my hair again?” Teeny throws herself into my side and burrows under my arm.
“We’re not sure what we’re doing yet,” I whisper.
Agent Williams gives Teeny a small smile. “Elena, we’re going to try very hard to get this sorted out without moving you.”
I stiffen. It’s weird hearing Teeny called by her real name.
In addition to the extra wrinkles, the bags underneath Agent Williams’s eyes seem double their usual size and his skin is all pale and splotchy. He opens his coat and pulls out a big plastic bag. With gloves still on, he drops the journal and note inside. “Who, that you know of, touched this book?”
“I did, of course, and probably Teeny at some point. Dad and Ethan, too,” I answer.
“I have everyone’s prints on file except Ethan’s.” His eyes move to where Ethan is pacing behind the couch. “Do you mind if I get a sample of your prints so I can rule them out as Thomas’s?”
“Yes. Of course.”
Agent Williams turns to Agent Parker and asks, “Would you get my bag?”
She returns a minute later with his black briefcase, and the way she’s carrying it makes me think it’s very heavy.
