As a journalist, she was continually doing synonym searches for words. She’d never researched the word safe. Had no idea what other words might give the same meaning. To her, right now, safe meant Mitch. So did warmth.
She lolled her head in his direction and opened her eyes. “So tell me, what is this great view?”
He looked straight ahead and pointed. “That.”
She followed his line of sight then sucked in a deep breath. “Please tell me that’s the Atlantic Ocean.”
“Afraid not. That’s the Gulf of Mexico. We passed through Panama City, Florida and are heading across the Hathaway Bridge.” He veered to the right as they left the bridge and turned onto Highway 98. “We’ll run up the coastline a ways.”
“Are we headed to Pensacola?”
“In that direction, but we’ll stop long before then. I’m serious, though, this is a nice place. You’ll be safe.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I know the owner.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward. “MGBa-Dass, Inc.”
“MGBa-Dass, Inc.? Never heard of them.” Of course, she’d never heard of OPAQUE till a few days ago. And look how well that had turned out.
Mitch shot her a quick glance. “Not many people have. Why don’t you get some rest?”
Even though the drive was breathtaking, all she could think about was her father’s lie all these years. And her mother. Why hadn’t she, at least, told her? Sure, she’d been way too young to be privy to the details of her family’s life in the WPP. But why hadn’t her mother left her a letter to be read once she grew up? A warning of some kind.
“Oh, Mama,” Liz said. “Why…why?”
“Did you say something?” Mitch asked.
“No, not really. I was thinking about my life. Evidently, my dad didn’t trust me. And even my mother took the secret to her grave.” Liz lifted her chin. “I will never forgive my dad. He had no right to put us in that danger.”
“I’m sure he did what he thought was right at the time. Drake told me your dad talked to your mom before he agreed to help on the first case. She told him to do what he felt was right. I imagine she told him the same thing after CT paid you all a visit.”
Liz turned toward Mitch. By now, she’d learned a few of his tells when he was walking a thin line on truth and lie. Like the tiny twitch at the corner of his eye. Clipped words. She saw no evidence of either.
When she was young, she’d believed her parents had been so in love—little touches, quick kisses. The way they laughed at the same things. Even the way she’d seen them look at each other when they thought she wasn’t watching. But reading Drake’s letter had left her wondering just who her mother had really loved. Had she really chosen to go with Russ so he’d have someone he knew with him in his new life? A nice, safe life in a nice, new place. Or had she fled Drake because she didn’t have the nerve to be part of his world?
Once her mother made her choice, of course she’d have done anything for the family. As Liz’s childhood passed, she’d had no doubt her mother always told her dad to do what he thought best. Didn’t mean she really wanted that outcome. Didn’t mean he actually had to take that path.
Then, the nice, quiet life her mother had taken great pains to choose had been completely shattered once Russ began to work with OPAQUE as an informant. That could explain why her mother had seemed to change after CT showed up at their house. Why she seemed to give up when cancer intervened in their lives.
No. Liz couldn’t accept that logic. “So, just like that, I’m supposed to think better of him? Give him a pass on dragging us away from a normal life in the WPP while he lived his life of excitement helping law enforcement?”
Her breath seemed to stick in her throat. Flashes of brightness blinked in her eyes, her mind. A memory from the past flooded her mind like an arrow straight to the target’s bull’s-eye.
“I didn’t say that,” Mitch said. “But don’t lay all the blame at his feet, either. You may not know the whole story.”
She knew enough. The past few days of flying had given her plenty of time to put a lot of events in her life in perspective. They weren’t all things to be overlooked. She wasn’t always ten years old. Coloring books disappeared. Her mother’s arms weren’t there to hold her any longer.
A sudden shiver swerved through her body. Cold. So, cold. Why was her mouth so dry?
Mitch touched her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Su…re. Why?”
“You’re practically panting, Liz. What’s wrong?” He slowed the car, tapping the button for the warning lights, then reached across and placed his hand on her shoulder. Gently, he circled his fingers. “Come on, everything’s okay. I’m right here.”
Gradually, she calmed her breathing and yanked herself out of the fear closing in on her thoughts. The fear of being alone. No windows. No coloring book. No mother’s arms holding her close.
“Do I need to pull off the road?” he asked.
