Page 16 of Safeguarding the Witness

“Not right now,” Spence interrupted. “We’ll be happy to comply with all necessary procedures, but it has to wait until tomorrow. Call my office to set up an appointment. Right now, I need to get Ms. Harper out of harm’s way.”

“Not so fast.” Officer Connor stood and hitched his thumbs in his belt. “I’m the one calling the shots here. I’ll tell you when to go and when to stay.”

Spence rose and faced him. He stood a couple of inches taller and radiated authority. “Special Agent Jamison will back me up, Officer. And I’d appreciate if you don’t talk to the media without clearing your comments through proper channels.”

“The media? Like TV stations and the newspaper?” Connor puffed out his chest. “What’s going on here, anyway?”

Jamison shoved open the door from the office into the hangar, then strode across the room to Spence and the cops. “The tower has been cleared,” he said.

“Any arrests?” Connor asked.

“The sniper got away. SWAT found bullet casings on the fourth floor. We can use those to run ballistics as well as processing footprints and handprints at the scene.”

Connor shot a glance toward her and Spence. “Should we be talking in front of civilians?”

“I’ve worked with Spence Cameron and CLF before,” Jamison said. “I figure this will be a joint investigation. For now, the FBI is in charge.”

“Yessir,” Connor said. “Do you need for us to check the airport surveillance video? We might identify the sniper’s vehicle.”

“Good idea, and I’d appreciate if you and your partner would coordinate with SWAT. The FBI forensics team should be here soon.” Jamison stepped up beside Spence. “And you, my friend, should get this lady out of here. Stay in touch.”

“Thanks, Jesse.”

Connor muscled his way closer, tipped his cap to her and grinned. “Looking forward to seeing you again.” He gave her a wink.

Spence walked beside her as they exited the hangar through the huge, open front doors. Across the tarmac, about three hundred yards away, she saw the fireman’s tower surrounded by police vehicles with lights flashing and the big, ominous-looking SWAT transport. Glad they’re on my side. As she watched, a van from one of the Portland TV stations trundled across the airfield toward the center of all this excitement. A sniper attack was big news. Spence had been right about media attention. Five years of hiding her identity would be erased in minutes…unless she went back into WITSEC. Was that even possible?

On the far side of the shattered office of Salem Beacon Charter was a small parking area. Two SUVs—one black and another dark green—were parked side by side. A tall, muscular guy dressed in black from head to toe stood waiting beside the cars.

She raised an eyebrow and asked Spence, “Does he work for you?”

“Yes. Rossi is employed by the security division of CLF.”

“Cameron Law Firm.” The initials sounded tougher and more ominous. “What was the deal with that cop?” he asked. “Do you know him?”

“I didn’t recognize him,” she said truthfully. “But he might have known my twin. She was popular.”

Though she and Madison were identical, her sister oozed sex appeal. Men threw themselves at her while they barely noticed Mollie. Not surprising that Julio Flores fell in love with her from afar and used the Cartel to kidnap her. Mollie frowned. His attention led to the explosion on the yacht. Maybe being a bombshell wasn’t such a good thing after all.

Spence introduced her to Rossi, walked her around the green SUV and tucked her into the passenger side. While he paused to talk with the security guy, she got settled. Though she knew almost nothing about cars, she recognized the luxury model. A Cadillac Escalade. The leather seat cradled her bottom. A new-car smell freshened the air. The gauges and instruments on the dashboard looked like they’d been designed by NASA and detailed by experts. She was beginning to realize that although Spence was a former soldier, he preferred expensive brands in his civilian clothes and possessions.

When she reached back to put on her seat belt, she found a white envelope twined between the straps. How did it get here? Where was security? The envelope was sealed and addressed to Mollie Harper. That handwriting! She’d know it anywhere, especially the sharp points on the capital M. Someone once told her that scrawl was indicative of a narcissistic personality.

Quickly, she folded the envelope in half and shoved it into a pocket in her shorts. She didn’t want Spence to see. Didn’t want him asking questions. Never mind how the envelope got hidden in his vehicle, this message was for her eyes only.

When he climbed inside and got behind the steering wheel of the Escalade, the overhead light and the dashboard illuminated the interior. She turned away, not wanting him to read her expression and know she was hiding something from him. He didn’t seem to notice. Just put on his glasses and drove through the airport to one of the exits where they needed to get past security checks. The airport had been belatedly shut down.

His only comment seemed to be reassuring. “We’ll be at the safe house in less than an hour. Unless something happens.”

“What could go wrong?”

“Never ask that question. It’s like you’re tempting the fates.”

“I don’t want to do that. We’ve had our share of disasters for one day.” She touched the edge of the envelope in her pocket. Though tempted to tell him, she wouldn’t.

Instead, she gazed out the window as they drove through Salem on roads she remembered from her many trips in and out of the town, including her commute to her summer job at the coffee shop. Spence drove on the curving road away from the airport through stands of trees and well-tended gardens in comfortable neighborhoods. Familiar sights.

“When we get to the cabin,” he said, “I need to rethink my plans for your trips into and out of Cloverdell. And the memorial service tomorrow.”