Valerie Hansen - Family In Hiding

“And you didn’t think to mention it to me?”

“Why should I? I thought it was either you or a friend of yours, trying to unnerve me.”

Sighing, he slowly shook his head, then bowed it. “How did we get to this point, Gracie? What did I do to give you such a low opinion of me?”

“Try consorting with criminals, for starters,” she snapped back. “I don’t know you at all anymore. Maybe I never did. For the kids’ sake I’m sorry that you have to disappear, but I can’t say I’m going to miss finding out more about your misguided career choices.”

A light touch on her arm from Marshal Summers diverted her attention. “Mrs. McIntyre—Grace. I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”

“Of course it is. The divorce will be final soon and the kids will get over missing their daddy eventually. If I had any doubts that I was doing the right thing, they vanished when I found out what Dylan has been involved in.”

“I’m not talking about your divorce. I was referring to the need for you and the children to enter witness protection, too.”

“Us? Why? I didn’t even suspect any of this until the police interviewed me a week ago. I told them then that I wasn’t involved. I’ve had nothing to do with Dylan for months. And before that he kept his business practices to himself. Now, I know why.”

“Nevertheless, you met with him today and were present when he was shot. Whoever is responsible for this attack has no way of knowing you aren’t culpable, too. If you’re not worried about your own safety, think of your children.”

Shock was too mild a word to describe Grace’s feelings at that moment. This whole scenario was the stuff of nightmares. She knew what the other woman was saying, yet her mind refused to accept it. There was no way she was going to leave everything behind and just up and vanish. What about her friends? Her mother and ailing father? Her church family? The kids were relatively happy and doing well in school. Kyle played soccer after school Thursdays and Beth was just getting interested in team sports.

Squaring her shoulders, Grace faced the marshals and said, “No. I’m sorry. We won’t go.”

McCall spoke aside into a radio.

Several uniformed police joined them.

Grace’s arm was grabbed and cold metal encircled her wrist with a click. She stared in disbelief. They were arresting her!

* * *

“There is one other way we can handle this,” Marshal Summers said, looking pointedly at Grace after the entire group was settled inside the van. “Participation in WitSec is voluntary for adults.”

Dylan knew where this conversation was going and waited for the explosion of his wife’s temper. There would surely be one. When their children were involved, Grace was as protective as a mother tiger. He saw her brows arch, felt so much tension emanating from her it was almost palpable.

Her eyes narrowed. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, you can refuse to be relocated. However...”

“Why am I getting the feeling you’re about to add something I’m not going to like?” Grace asked.

Serena Summers gave a slight shrug. “We do have some room to maneuver when it comes to juveniles. A judge can rule that said juveniles be made wards of the court for their own good and be forced into witness protection.”

“You can’t be serious. You’re threatening to take my children away from me?”

“Not exactly. You’re welcome to stay with them wherever they go. But rest assured, Mrs. McIntyre, they are going.”

Observing Grace’s face, Dylan saw myriad fleeting expressions come and go, ending with resolve. She raised her chin and stared at the marshals. “Then so am I.”

“I’m glad you’ve decided to see things our way, ma’am,” Marshal McCall said, sounding relieved. “It will make our task much easier.”

“I’m not doing this for anybody but my children,” Grace insisted. She glared over at Dylan. “Naturally, we won’t be housed together, particularly once the final divorce decree comes through. And the quality of the schools will have to be at least as high as the one Kyle and Beth attend here.”

“Of course.”

It occurred to Dylan to wonder how many witnesses tried to dictate terms to the U.S. marshals in charge of their relocation. His guess would be very few. Nor did he think it likely that the authorities would comply with Grace’s demands, particularly since she was simply collateral damage rather than an actual eyewitness to the crimes against children that they’d uncovered.

He wisely kept his opinions to himself. The time would come when Grace would have to take whatever accommodations were offered and be thankful, no matter what. It didn’t take much imagination to figure that her ire would then be directed toward him.

Dylan didn’t care. All he could hope for at this point was that his loved ones would remain unharmed. Enough innocent victims had already suffered for his mistakes.

He had no secret death wish, yet he’d made a solemn decision when he’d realized he’d been shot. If he had to pay with his life for his sins, then so be it. Anything, as long as his family was safe.

“I’ll need to pack, of course,” Grace said, organizing her thoughts and making mental lists of all the things she’d have to do before she’d be ready to leave St. Louis. “I suppose we can have the kids’ school transcripts forwarded later.”

Marshal McCall cleared his throat. “I’m afraid you can’t go home again, Mrs. McIntyre.”

“What? But I have to. There are a hundred things I need to see to—canceling the newspaper delivery, stopping the mail, calling my friends to say goodbye. Everybody at church will want to pray for us, and I’ll need to touch base with my mother, too.”

“I’m sorry.”

Her jaw dropped. She looked into each of their faces, finally settling on Dylan’s. “You knew all this, didn’t you? That’s why you came to see us. You wanted to fix it so we’d have to run off with you.”

It made no difference that her husband was shaking his head. She didn’t believe him.

“Well, it’s not going to work,” Grace declared. “I don’t care how much trouble you’re in or how many government agencies interfere in my life, I am never going to change my mind about you or about the divorce. It’s too late for us, Dylan. Way, way too late.”

Added to that declaration was her intense disappointment in his character. While they’d been married, she had mistakenly put her trust in him. Had accepted his excuses and explanations without question, over and over again, until she’d become numb to his lies.

Well, that kind of naïveté was in the past. She was wise to Dylan’s tricks. He was never going to be able to fool her again.

Leaving her friends and former life was going to be hard, yes, but not nearly as difficult as it had been to accept the truth about the husband she had once idolized, then take the necessary steps to sever their relationship.

It had nearly killed her spirit when she’d finally given up and filed for divorce. Now, in spite of the ongoing heartache, she was glad she had done so. The more distance she could put between Dylan and their children, the less his warped sense of right and wrong would exert a negative influence upon them.

The kids had to come first. As their only respectable, upstanding parent, she owed it to them—no matter how great her personal sacrifice.

One fleeting glance at Dylan told her it was going to be huge.

FOUR

By the time the paramedics had finished bandaging Dylan and had given him an injection of antibiotics, his arm was truly throbbing. It had occurred to him to wonder why it hadn’t hurt when he’d first felt the bullet’s impact. The ambulance attendants had explained that the initial shock had temporarily deadened the area.