He raked his hand through his hair. “Yeah. Hadn’t thought of that. Leave them a message to call back pronto when they open.”
This was more than she had expected. “Thank you. I must admit it would be nice to clean up.”
“You’ll be safe while I’m gone, so take a shower. Try to get that camo out of your hair. And get some sleep.”
“When will you be back?”
“Soon.” He quirked the side of his mouth. “Don’t worry, I’ll try not to wake you when I come in.” Pointing back and forth between the beds, he said. “Take whichever one you want.”
Quiet seemed to weigh heavy in the air, then he turned toward the door. Then back around.
Walking to her, he pulled a sealed envelope from his jacket. “Drake said to give you this when we got to someplace safe.”
She lightly slipped her fingers under the flap and peeled it open. As she unfolded the letter, she scanned the first few words of print, blinked, and went quickly to the bottom to see Drake’s signature.
Blowing out a soft sigh through her lips, she folded the letter back into thirds. “When did he give this to you?”
“Right before I got on the chopper.”
“Do you know what it is?”
Mitch shook his head. “Not a clue. Anyhow, I’m going to head on out and—”
“Please don’t. Not yet.” She held the letter out to him. “Judging from the first few words, I don’t think I can do this alone. So, I’d appreciate if you read the letter to me. Out loud. Please.”
A look of doubt crossed his face as he took the pages and unfolded them. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep this between you and Drake?”
She shook her head. “No. We’re all in this together, anyhow. This could be just one more piece of the puzzle. Read it.”
Mitch nodded. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”
Liz,
Are you my daughter? Short answer is—I don’t know.
I’d hoped to explain in person, but just in case all hell blows up before we get a chance, I want you to know that I loved your mother, and I think she loved me. But she had fears that overcame her love. My job in law enforcement was more than she could face. Having been an orphan, she was terrified of ever being alone again. The last time we talked was on the phone. She said she couldn’t live with the idea that some night the doorbell would ring and the policemen at the door would tell her she was a widow. Said she couldn’t chance putting a child through that. Said a child should have a mother and a father. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what she was talking about.
Looking back, maybe she was trying to tell me she was pregnant with my child. Maybe not. I’ll never know. Was it possible? Yes.
Finally, she explained how she planned to go into the Witness Protection Program with our mutual friend Russ. Said that way he’d at least have part of a past with him. She refused to see me before they left, and I never talked to her again.
Close to four years later, she snuck a letter out through WPP. Said she had a three-year-old daughter. Said she had my smile. Said her name was Elizabeth Irene Walkert. My mother’s name was Irene. She sent a photo of her daughter celebrating her birthday with cake and ice cream. A pretty little girl who looked a lot like my sister when she was young. That was the only letter your mother ever sent me. And when I snuck one to her, it was sent back unopened.
So you see, I really don’t know if you’re my daughter. I often wondered. I’d be proud if you were. When this is all over, we can find out for sure with tests. But only if you want to know. Your mother and I had our time. Made our choices. In the end, though, the most important part of our story is you.
Only you—the pretty little girl celebrating her birthday with cake and ice cream.
Drake
PS—Don’t think badly of your mother. Fear can be a life-altering phenomenon. She did the best she could with her fear. I loved her then—I love her now.
“That’s all there is.” Mitch refolded the letter and handed it back.
Liz sat on the side of the bed and reread the words. By the end, tears were streaming down her face. “Do you know the details of how and why WPP became my dad Russ’s option?”
“Only what Drake told me when he gave me the assignment.”
“I’d like to know.”
