“Right, as if people hiding in witness protection randomly decide to recant their testimony.”
“I didn’t say you’re wrong.Though I wonder if Marino had that kind of reach, why didn’t he use it during the trial?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe that’s what the DOJ wants to talk to you about.”
“I didn’t even know he was out of prison.How would I know if he scared people into changing their testimony?”She focused on the grass slapping the sides of his truck.“Have you been here before?”
“Nope.”A doe hopped across the driveway.He eased off the gas.When there was one, there were probably more.He scanned the grass and saw another lurking in the brush, waiting to bound across the driveway.“But like I said, it has everything we need.Space.A stocked pantry.”A security system that could probably track the difference between a deer and a sniper crossing through the woods they were about to enter.
They rumbled up the driveway.Tall grass and brush gave way to trees with a thick green canopy that blocked the sun.“It’s safe.That’s all that matters.”
“No more Molotov cocktails or FedEx deliveries.”
“None.”The truck threaded up a hill on the side of a wooded mountain.Bits of sunshine blinked through the shadows.The terrain became rougher.That was by design, he was sure.Everything about this location would have been expertly calculated.
The house came into view at the end of a horseshoe driveway.
“It looks like a regular house,” she said.
“Exactly the point.”It blended in.Not fancy nor dripping in visible security.Titan had probably purchased this house and retrofitted it surreptitiously.He parked and leaned forward to get a good look out the windshield.“It’s our new digs.At least temporarily.”
Grace popped out.Callum studied her for a second too long before he joined her.He wasn’t sure how long ago he’d actually fallen in love with her, but now that he saw it, he couldn’t unsee the blaring obviousness.
He unloaded their bags.Pitiful, actually.They both had duffels, and she had her backpack.They both lived on so little.Clothes and necessities.What did her rental cabin have?She had continually moved.It was the first time he really thought about how few possessions she must keep.
Loneliness struck him in the chest.Herloneliness.He could relate to a minimalist life.His time in the Army hadn’t been conducive to settling down.He didn’t collect things.He hadn’t set up deep roots.That was apparent even in his current bare-bones, drab, undecorated apartment, but at least he always had a home base.Grace didn’t.
Callum unlocked the front door.
Her gaze swept through the open layout of the living room, dining room, and small kitchen.Deer mounts lined the wall above the couches.A trophy fish hung over a soot-stained fireplace.Well-read fishing and hunting magazines were piled haphazardly on the scuffed coffee table.
“It looks like we walked into someone’s home,” she whispered.“It’s like someone lives here.”
“That’s the idea.”He meandered down the short hallway lined with faded pictures from hunting and fishing expeditions.Most were action shots with faces artfully obscured.A man’s back faced the camera as he reeled in a monster with the fishing rod bent under the weight of the catch.Another focused on a net with large trout, leaving the person behind it unfocused and unrecognizable.Still another showed the back of a man in blaze orange, rifle slung over his shoulder, walking into the sunset.
The floorboards creaked underfoot.The air conditioning hummed.He noted the sounds, eyeballed what he thought were the well-hidden cameras that fed into a state-of-the-art security system, and searched for covert weapons caches.
The hallway off the living room-kitchen area was short with four doors.One bathroom, two bedrooms, and a linen closet.He opened the closet and mentally cataloged the boxes of ammo placed above towels and washcloths.The bottom shelf was dedicated to first aid supplies.Useful and expected, given the established hunting motif of the house.
He closed the linen closet and opened the bathroom door.Nothing special unless the 1980s were having a moment again.
Callum moved on to the two bedrooms.One was larger than the other, but both had large closets and dresser drawers filled with generic clothes in several sizes, along with more weapons.
This place really looked like they’d stepped into a hunter-and-fisherman’s home, and strategically, the layout was a winner.He could see their surroundings from almost every angle.
Grace waltzed into the bedroom and pulled the drapes open.“That’s a huge backyard.”The windows had a fantastic view of the back and side of the house.A two-person swing faced the tree line.Chairs surrounded a well-used fire pit.“Very pretty, and very quiet.”
He nodded.“No neighbors are the best neighbors.”
“Will we have to keep all the drapes and blinds closed?”
Callum lifted a shoulder.“No.We’re not going to make ourselves into sitting ducks, but we’re not going to hide in the dark.Safehouse, remember?”
Her lips were pinched together as she nodded.Her gaze locked on the trees as if she were expecting an offensive line to infiltrate the backyard.
“Hey, you okay?”
