Wayward, page 7
Sighing deeply, I said, “I was always certain I’d die young. I was just protecting myself from the threats I knew about.”
“But your own family? Your own father?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s no way to live.”
“It was my normal.”
She exhaled sharply. “I have no idea how you did it.”
“If you were born into it, you’d have ideas, believe me.”
“Maybe,” she granted. “You know, it turns out that Galina knew about certain payments that were received from the criminal activity, so she’s going to need to answer for that in court.”
“Yeah, but she’s a small fish.”
“True. And if she helps us, she could find herself with a clean record.”
“That’s good.”
“Your brother is a whole other story,” she said, leaning forward, elbow on her desk, chin on her hand, regarding me. “How in the world did he not know what was going on?”
“Have you never seen The Godfather?”
It took a moment for what I said to sink in.
“What?”
“The movie. With Al Pacino. Have you seen it?”
She shook her head.
“You’ve never seen the—”
“No, I mean, of course I’ve seen The Godfather,” she snapped at me. “I just have no idea what the movie has to do—”
“Don’t you remember how in the beginning, Michael was gonna be a senator?”
“Stop,” she ordered, cracking a sudden smile but trying not to—I could tell from how hard she pursed her lips. “This isn’t funny.”
“So see, Pasha is Michael before they killed Sonny.”
She groaned loudly.
“I’m serious. He’s golden.”
“Well, miraculously, he is that.”
I was glad. “What will happen to Stas and Adrian?”
“I don’t know who those individuals are, but I’m sure there will be assorted time for everyone caught in the net. Speaking of, Lev Kamenov is in the wind.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. We’ve got a red notice out on him, and the marshals and local law enforcement in Chicago and across the country are hunting him down, so rest assured, we will find him.”
But Lev was well connected. I didn’t like their chances. “’Course,” I agreed, hoping to sound encouraging.
“I don’t want you to worry, though.”
It hit me then, what she was saying. “Oh no, I’m not worried about Lev finding me.”
“Why the hell not?” She sounded affronted.
“Because he wants to be free more than he wants to get his revenge on me.”
“I—”
“Did Nara disappear? Leave with him? They were supposed to be in love.”
“Yeah, you told us that, and we have eyes on her, but no. She stayed with her brother and her family. I think whatever feelings she had for Mr. Kamenov paled in comparison to people she loves.”
That sounded like Nara. Vanya and her parents had always been her first love.
“So you don’t think if Kamenov had the opportunity—”
“Here’s the thing you have to know about him,” I explained. “He failed. He didn’t kill me, and he’d rather die himself than ever face me again. Not to mention, he failed my father. I’m telling you right now, he’ll go live in Siberia rather than deal with that shame.”
She nodded. “Not that I doubt you, but I’ve known more criminals than you have, and I’m here to tell you, that’s not how it works. You think he has some innate sense of honor, like the failure is the biggest part of this equation, but you’re wrong.”
“Listen, I—”
“What? Know him? Maks, let’s face it, you got caught completely unawares because guess what, you never really knew him at all.”
And she was right, to a degree. I’d missed the betrayal, yes. But I knew what lay at the heart of the man. “The failure, his honor…you’re just not getting that.”
“Oh, I get it, I do. But no matter what you think, Lev Kamenov will try and find you and kill you because that—putting you in the ground—that will restore his honor.”
“Not to anyone who matters,” I assured her. “I’ve already done the damage because of his failure. Mark my words, he’s on the run.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I’m betting the contract on his life is just as big as the one on mine.”
“Well, if he’s smart, he’ll pick some non-extradition country and take up farming because we don’t need him. You’re the one who knows where all the bodies are buried. Because of you, we know so much and learn more every day, going over your evidence. And the best part is, we still have you if we need our questions answered or for you to confirm our discoveries. Mr. Kamenov can be gunned down in the street and our ongoing investigation won’t suffer in the least. He’s of no consequence.”
“Very dramatic.”
“But true.”
I couldn’t argue. From a law-enforcement standpoint, Lev was merely another cog in the wheel, a thug to throw in jail and forget.
Something was still bothering me, and so I had to ask. Again. “You’re sure Pasha is safe?”
“From whom? Your father or us?”
“You. I know my father would never hurt him. That’s his legacy.”
“I can promise you that there is seriously nothing that links him to anything. Even your impeccable records don’t include him.”
He had been insulated for a reason. To not be tainted by any part of my father’s business. Now he could run the legitimate end without anyone having a claim on him. And of course, he would have law enforcement watching him for the rest of his life, which turned out to be great for him because he was squeaky clean. No one unscrupulous would ever go near him now that he was living his business life under a microscope. Everything had turned out for the best. I just had to die for it to happen.
My mind was drifting, and when she cleared her throat, I realized I’d been zoned out. “Yeah?”
“I’m going to say something to you, and I want you to listen.”
“Haven’t I been?” I goaded her.
“Stop with all the banter, and just hear me.”
I stared at her open, honest face. “Fine.”
“I know you don’t think you’re a good man, Maks, but you’ve done an amazing thing here, and now the road is clear in front of you. Second chances are the best.”
“I dunno. Some would say I deserve the same you’re giving to everyone else.”
“The difference is that, by all reports, you saved more people than you hurt.”
I shook my head. “That’s not true. The scales don’t tip in my favor.”
“Says you.”
“One death, twenty, it’s all the same blood on you, right?”
She was quiet a moment. “When I first started with the Bureau, I used to think just like that. But I’ve killed people in the line of duty, and some would have killed me, but others, I believe, were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, scared, back up against the wall, feeling like they had no other option than to try and kill me. They were desperate and confused, and I stood between them and their freedom.”
“And?” I groused.
“And I had no choice but to end their lives because if I didn’t act, I would be the one in the morgue.”
“What’re you trying to say?”
“I’m saying that you prevented ‘wrong place, wrong time’ scenarios. You helped your people make better choices, and we have statement after statement to that effect.”
“Listen—”
“I think you did the best you could in the environment you were in, faced with insane decisions I can’t even imagine.”
“It’s not that black and white.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. The more reports we take, apparently everyone misses the guy who took care of them and their families, who didn’t let petty arguments turn into blood, and who kept the peace between all the parties for years.”
But I knew better, and I was covered in the same blood my father was, no matter what the kind FBI agent believed.
“And according to Zane Calhoun, with you gone, bodies were dropping every day.”
I smirked at her. “I think he’s confused. Don’t you get that from him? That he’s not all that bright?”
Her smile lit her dark eyes. “You’re a better man than you think you are, Maksim Lenkov, so from now on, choose the path in the sun and fuck the shadows.”
“Eloquently put.”
“I try,” she said, grinning.
And so would I.
FIVE
Portland smelled different from Chicago, and even from New York, which I’d only been in for a month. But as soon as we were out in the parking lot, it was like wet pavement, soil, and smoke hit my nostrils all at the same time.
“I wanna go home,” Deputy US Marshal Grant Kendall whined as we walked through the parking lot to get the car.
I wondered if I was supposed to be in handcuffs. Hard to say. Kendall and his partner, Deputy US Marshal Serena Woods, hadn’t once treated me like a criminal. At the airport, we didn’t even have to go through the metal detectors or wait in line, since they were federal agents, so the three of us walked through the terminal like colleagues, getting breakfast and coffee.
On the plane I didn’t have to sit between them. I got the window in business class, and Kendall, who was in the middle, fell asleep while Woods watched a movie on her phone. It was anticlimactic, to say the least.
There had been discussion about where to take me—Oregon or Arizona—and the chief deputy in Manhattan, the woman in charge of putting me in WITSEC, had decided that Oregon would be better for me.
“This man is a good witness, and we want to give him the best chance for a new life,” she’d told Lewis, then to me, “It’s your decision, Mr. Lenkov, but I think if you’re hot all the time, you’ll be miserable in Arizona. How in the world is that any kind of reward? I myself hate Arizona, so I can only assume, being from Chicago, you will too.”
I didn’t know about that, and Lewis had pressed her lips together really tight so she wouldn’t laugh. And so it was decided—I was going to the Pacific Northwest.
“I’ll be in touch as different cases progress, but I probably won’t see you in person again,” Lewis said before she hugged me, surprising the hell out of me.
“Awfully touchy-feely for an FBI agent,” I told her as I walked away.
“That’s special agent,” she reminded me just so we were clear.
Now, in Portland, I had to wonder if the air was always going to be this damp.
“You smell that?” Kendall asked me as we got on the freeway. “That’s trees and rain, Maks. Get used to it.”
“Stop,” Woods ordered him and then smiled as she turned around in the front passenger seat to look at me. “I think it’s beautiful here.”
I squinted at her.
“And I’m sure there’s decent pizza somewhere.”
Kendall thought that was hysterical, if his laughter was any indication.
Unlike in Illinois or New York, there was only one judicial district in Portland, and their US Marshal field office was a bit smaller than the one in Manhattan. In fact, New York state had four districts, so it was safe to say that it was a far cry from what Woods and Kendall were used to.
Their faces, when we reached the office, fluctuated between amazement and uncertainty.
“You two all right?” I asked them.
“Holy shit,” Woods murmured, glancing around.
“What a dump,” Kendall said under his breath, bumping me with his shoulder. “You know, Maks, at least if you went to Phoenix, I think they’d have Wi-Fi.”
“You see,” Woods said, “this is why we have the rule to stop for coffee because Jesus, this place.” She was clearly horrified from the look on her face, the upturned nose, and the small indrawn breaths. “Can you imagine what kind of monkey piss they’re drinking?”
“Look, look, look,” Kendall rushed out, tipping his head at the desk. “That computer is older than me.”
Truly, it was a very small office. Compared to the one in Manhattan, there were definitely missing bells and whistles. But Byers and Alvarez, who took custody of me from Woods and Kendall, both seemed competent and even explained up front that there was no espresso machine in the office.
“But there are lots of good coffee places in town,” Alvarez informed us.
“Oh, we know,” Woods said snidely. “That’s why we’re late. We had to make sure to stop first in case your office was small.”
Kendall’s smirk just rubbed it in.
They were definitely not all going to be sitting around having drinks together, but as soon as the New York marshals left me, shaking my hand, wishing me the best, and I was alone with the Portland ones, they both warmed up. We sat together in their conference room, and again went over what the supervisory deputy in New York had told me: my new bank account, my driver’s license, passport, social security card, and so on. And then Byers explained that because the town of Rune, where I was headed, had no available apartments, they had rented a house for me. Once that was done, they told me yet again what I could and couldn’t do or have. As in any contact with anyone from my old life. New friends were just fine.
“Got it,” I assured Martina Alvarez.
Byers took me down to the garage then and showed me all the vehicles I had to choose from. I was surprised by how old they were.
“You’re giving me a car?”
“You get a car,” Byers corrected me. “It’s part of the living expenses you receive as a witness, especially as you won’t be living here in the city and will need reliable transportation to get to and from our office.”
It made sense.
“The car, however, cannot stick out in any way.”
Meaning, the more it looked like everything else on the road, the better. “Great,” I said, trying to sound cheerful, glancing over at the Jeep Wagoneer.
“Oh, that’s a good one,” Byers assured me. “It’s a 2003, and it runs great.”
Of everything there, it looked the best.
I used to drive a— I didn’t go any further with that thought. It wasn’t helpful, and though the creature comforts of my old life, the things I used to have, were amazing, the rest was not. Better to drive an older, dependable Jeep and not have to worry about killing anyone or being killed in the course of a day.
Alvarez joined us then as well and handed me paperwork in an envelope and two keys on a carnation-pink ring with a picture of a palm tree and a surfer. My gaze met hers in a question.
“I got it in Hawai’i when I was there on vacation. It looks vintage, right? Like an old hotel-room key. It’s cute.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “These are house keys, then, front door and deadbolt?”
“That’s right. We pay for a year of rent. Next year it’s on you.”
“Got it.”
“And the Jeep is a great choice,” she told me. “When it snows, the fact that it’s a four-wheel drive is going to be a huge help.”
“Sounds good.”
Byers went to the locked key box and returned with a bedazzled letter K with the Jeep key on it. Of the two, the K was better, so I gave Alvarez back her pink thing.
“Really?”
“This way you get to keep it,” I said cheerfully.
She shook her head at me. “There’s no accounting for taste.”
“Or not,” I teased her.
“I like you, but listen,” she said softly, serious now. “If anything happens, from a traffic stop to some small altercation when you’re out to dinner somewhere, your first call is to us.”
“You already told me this inside.”
“I know.”
“And all the other marshals have told me the same thing.”
“I’m aware.”
“So really, I’ve got it.”
“Okay.”
But from the skeptical look on her face, I was thinking she didn’t believe me. “You sure?”
“I just— If you see anyone who looks out of place, you—”
“Call you. Yes. I got it.”
“I read your file, so I can’t imagine anyone is looking for you away from any large city, figuring you’d never make it anywhere else—”
“Really?”
“Oh, absolutely,” she replied sincerely. “Most witnesses like yourself do not do well in an environment so dramatically different—like night-and-day different—from their original one.”
“So you’re setting me up for failure?”
“Not at all. The chief deputy of the Southern District of New York believes you will thrive here—she says in your file that you need a brand-new start.”
I squinted at her.
“Fine. There’s some flowery language from an FBI agent as well, who believes that you’ll bloom where you’re planted.”
“That’s terrible.”
“I told you it was flowery.”
“Okay, so you think I’ll be fine here.”
“I do,” she assured me. “But if you aren’t, if you need us for any reason, just please reach out, and we’ll get to Rune as soon as we can.”
“It’s a weird name for a town.”
“Not any more so than Chicago, if you think about it.”
“Whatever,” I grumbled.
“Listen, I put the address in your new phone, and it will take you right where you need to be.” She smiled then. “I believe you’re going to be perfectly safe and happy in Rune.”
A place that didn’t even sound real.
“Also, if you get in any trouble with the locals—”
“Because you might,” Byers chimed in.
“Because you might,” Alvarez agreed, “call us. You can get us both night and day.”
I had a new iPhone programmed with their numbers and nobody else’s.
It was becoming important to leave already. I was getting antsy, ready to start. I had to get on the road. “I will follow directions,” I reiterated, then walked around the car, opened the passenger side door, and threw onto the seat my duffel with the few clothes that had been bought in New York—not a designer label in the bunch. I had on the shearling-lined barn coat that Special Agent Lewis had purchased for me because she wanted to make sure I didn’t freeze in Oregon. At the time I was confused because I figured there would be rain, yes, but that it wouldn’t be cold, not in May. It turned out to be a mixed bag. Like today, it was raining, and the high was only fifty-seven. At night, with the showers, it would be down to forty-five. So no, I wouldn’t freeze, but the coat was a good call. It was strange not to have all my old clothes. Normally, people had personal items they took with them when they entered WITSEC. I had nothing, as everything I owned had been divvied up once I was considered dead. It had to be weird for everyone now, knowing I wasn’t.
“But your own family? Your own father?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s no way to live.”
“It was my normal.”
She exhaled sharply. “I have no idea how you did it.”
“If you were born into it, you’d have ideas, believe me.”
“Maybe,” she granted. “You know, it turns out that Galina knew about certain payments that were received from the criminal activity, so she’s going to need to answer for that in court.”
“Yeah, but she’s a small fish.”
“True. And if she helps us, she could find herself with a clean record.”
“That’s good.”
“Your brother is a whole other story,” she said, leaning forward, elbow on her desk, chin on her hand, regarding me. “How in the world did he not know what was going on?”
“Have you never seen The Godfather?”
It took a moment for what I said to sink in.
“What?”
“The movie. With Al Pacino. Have you seen it?”
She shook her head.
“You’ve never seen the—”
“No, I mean, of course I’ve seen The Godfather,” she snapped at me. “I just have no idea what the movie has to do—”
“Don’t you remember how in the beginning, Michael was gonna be a senator?”
“Stop,” she ordered, cracking a sudden smile but trying not to—I could tell from how hard she pursed her lips. “This isn’t funny.”
“So see, Pasha is Michael before they killed Sonny.”
She groaned loudly.
“I’m serious. He’s golden.”
“Well, miraculously, he is that.”
I was glad. “What will happen to Stas and Adrian?”
“I don’t know who those individuals are, but I’m sure there will be assorted time for everyone caught in the net. Speaking of, Lev Kamenov is in the wind.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. We’ve got a red notice out on him, and the marshals and local law enforcement in Chicago and across the country are hunting him down, so rest assured, we will find him.”
But Lev was well connected. I didn’t like their chances. “’Course,” I agreed, hoping to sound encouraging.
“I don’t want you to worry, though.”
It hit me then, what she was saying. “Oh no, I’m not worried about Lev finding me.”
“Why the hell not?” She sounded affronted.
“Because he wants to be free more than he wants to get his revenge on me.”
“I—”
“Did Nara disappear? Leave with him? They were supposed to be in love.”
“Yeah, you told us that, and we have eyes on her, but no. She stayed with her brother and her family. I think whatever feelings she had for Mr. Kamenov paled in comparison to people she loves.”
That sounded like Nara. Vanya and her parents had always been her first love.
“So you don’t think if Kamenov had the opportunity—”
“Here’s the thing you have to know about him,” I explained. “He failed. He didn’t kill me, and he’d rather die himself than ever face me again. Not to mention, he failed my father. I’m telling you right now, he’ll go live in Siberia rather than deal with that shame.”
She nodded. “Not that I doubt you, but I’ve known more criminals than you have, and I’m here to tell you, that’s not how it works. You think he has some innate sense of honor, like the failure is the biggest part of this equation, but you’re wrong.”
“Listen, I—”
“What? Know him? Maks, let’s face it, you got caught completely unawares because guess what, you never really knew him at all.”
And she was right, to a degree. I’d missed the betrayal, yes. But I knew what lay at the heart of the man. “The failure, his honor…you’re just not getting that.”
“Oh, I get it, I do. But no matter what you think, Lev Kamenov will try and find you and kill you because that—putting you in the ground—that will restore his honor.”
“Not to anyone who matters,” I assured her. “I’ve already done the damage because of his failure. Mark my words, he’s on the run.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I’m betting the contract on his life is just as big as the one on mine.”
“Well, if he’s smart, he’ll pick some non-extradition country and take up farming because we don’t need him. You’re the one who knows where all the bodies are buried. Because of you, we know so much and learn more every day, going over your evidence. And the best part is, we still have you if we need our questions answered or for you to confirm our discoveries. Mr. Kamenov can be gunned down in the street and our ongoing investigation won’t suffer in the least. He’s of no consequence.”
“Very dramatic.”
“But true.”
I couldn’t argue. From a law-enforcement standpoint, Lev was merely another cog in the wheel, a thug to throw in jail and forget.
Something was still bothering me, and so I had to ask. Again. “You’re sure Pasha is safe?”
“From whom? Your father or us?”
“You. I know my father would never hurt him. That’s his legacy.”
“I can promise you that there is seriously nothing that links him to anything. Even your impeccable records don’t include him.”
He had been insulated for a reason. To not be tainted by any part of my father’s business. Now he could run the legitimate end without anyone having a claim on him. And of course, he would have law enforcement watching him for the rest of his life, which turned out to be great for him because he was squeaky clean. No one unscrupulous would ever go near him now that he was living his business life under a microscope. Everything had turned out for the best. I just had to die for it to happen.
My mind was drifting, and when she cleared her throat, I realized I’d been zoned out. “Yeah?”
“I’m going to say something to you, and I want you to listen.”
“Haven’t I been?” I goaded her.
“Stop with all the banter, and just hear me.”
I stared at her open, honest face. “Fine.”
“I know you don’t think you’re a good man, Maks, but you’ve done an amazing thing here, and now the road is clear in front of you. Second chances are the best.”
“I dunno. Some would say I deserve the same you’re giving to everyone else.”
“The difference is that, by all reports, you saved more people than you hurt.”
I shook my head. “That’s not true. The scales don’t tip in my favor.”
“Says you.”
“One death, twenty, it’s all the same blood on you, right?”
She was quiet a moment. “When I first started with the Bureau, I used to think just like that. But I’ve killed people in the line of duty, and some would have killed me, but others, I believe, were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, scared, back up against the wall, feeling like they had no other option than to try and kill me. They were desperate and confused, and I stood between them and their freedom.”
“And?” I groused.
“And I had no choice but to end their lives because if I didn’t act, I would be the one in the morgue.”
“What’re you trying to say?”
“I’m saying that you prevented ‘wrong place, wrong time’ scenarios. You helped your people make better choices, and we have statement after statement to that effect.”
“Listen—”
“I think you did the best you could in the environment you were in, faced with insane decisions I can’t even imagine.”
“It’s not that black and white.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. The more reports we take, apparently everyone misses the guy who took care of them and their families, who didn’t let petty arguments turn into blood, and who kept the peace between all the parties for years.”
But I knew better, and I was covered in the same blood my father was, no matter what the kind FBI agent believed.
“And according to Zane Calhoun, with you gone, bodies were dropping every day.”
I smirked at her. “I think he’s confused. Don’t you get that from him? That he’s not all that bright?”
Her smile lit her dark eyes. “You’re a better man than you think you are, Maksim Lenkov, so from now on, choose the path in the sun and fuck the shadows.”
“Eloquently put.”
“I try,” she said, grinning.
And so would I.
FIVE
Portland smelled different from Chicago, and even from New York, which I’d only been in for a month. But as soon as we were out in the parking lot, it was like wet pavement, soil, and smoke hit my nostrils all at the same time.
“I wanna go home,” Deputy US Marshal Grant Kendall whined as we walked through the parking lot to get the car.
I wondered if I was supposed to be in handcuffs. Hard to say. Kendall and his partner, Deputy US Marshal Serena Woods, hadn’t once treated me like a criminal. At the airport, we didn’t even have to go through the metal detectors or wait in line, since they were federal agents, so the three of us walked through the terminal like colleagues, getting breakfast and coffee.
On the plane I didn’t have to sit between them. I got the window in business class, and Kendall, who was in the middle, fell asleep while Woods watched a movie on her phone. It was anticlimactic, to say the least.
There had been discussion about where to take me—Oregon or Arizona—and the chief deputy in Manhattan, the woman in charge of putting me in WITSEC, had decided that Oregon would be better for me.
“This man is a good witness, and we want to give him the best chance for a new life,” she’d told Lewis, then to me, “It’s your decision, Mr. Lenkov, but I think if you’re hot all the time, you’ll be miserable in Arizona. How in the world is that any kind of reward? I myself hate Arizona, so I can only assume, being from Chicago, you will too.”
I didn’t know about that, and Lewis had pressed her lips together really tight so she wouldn’t laugh. And so it was decided—I was going to the Pacific Northwest.
“I’ll be in touch as different cases progress, but I probably won’t see you in person again,” Lewis said before she hugged me, surprising the hell out of me.
“Awfully touchy-feely for an FBI agent,” I told her as I walked away.
“That’s special agent,” she reminded me just so we were clear.
Now, in Portland, I had to wonder if the air was always going to be this damp.
“You smell that?” Kendall asked me as we got on the freeway. “That’s trees and rain, Maks. Get used to it.”
“Stop,” Woods ordered him and then smiled as she turned around in the front passenger seat to look at me. “I think it’s beautiful here.”
I squinted at her.
“And I’m sure there’s decent pizza somewhere.”
Kendall thought that was hysterical, if his laughter was any indication.
Unlike in Illinois or New York, there was only one judicial district in Portland, and their US Marshal field office was a bit smaller than the one in Manhattan. In fact, New York state had four districts, so it was safe to say that it was a far cry from what Woods and Kendall were used to.
Their faces, when we reached the office, fluctuated between amazement and uncertainty.
“You two all right?” I asked them.
“Holy shit,” Woods murmured, glancing around.
“What a dump,” Kendall said under his breath, bumping me with his shoulder. “You know, Maks, at least if you went to Phoenix, I think they’d have Wi-Fi.”
“You see,” Woods said, “this is why we have the rule to stop for coffee because Jesus, this place.” She was clearly horrified from the look on her face, the upturned nose, and the small indrawn breaths. “Can you imagine what kind of monkey piss they’re drinking?”
“Look, look, look,” Kendall rushed out, tipping his head at the desk. “That computer is older than me.”
Truly, it was a very small office. Compared to the one in Manhattan, there were definitely missing bells and whistles. But Byers and Alvarez, who took custody of me from Woods and Kendall, both seemed competent and even explained up front that there was no espresso machine in the office.
“But there are lots of good coffee places in town,” Alvarez informed us.
“Oh, we know,” Woods said snidely. “That’s why we’re late. We had to make sure to stop first in case your office was small.”
Kendall’s smirk just rubbed it in.
They were definitely not all going to be sitting around having drinks together, but as soon as the New York marshals left me, shaking my hand, wishing me the best, and I was alone with the Portland ones, they both warmed up. We sat together in their conference room, and again went over what the supervisory deputy in New York had told me: my new bank account, my driver’s license, passport, social security card, and so on. And then Byers explained that because the town of Rune, where I was headed, had no available apartments, they had rented a house for me. Once that was done, they told me yet again what I could and couldn’t do or have. As in any contact with anyone from my old life. New friends were just fine.
“Got it,” I assured Martina Alvarez.
Byers took me down to the garage then and showed me all the vehicles I had to choose from. I was surprised by how old they were.
“You’re giving me a car?”
“You get a car,” Byers corrected me. “It’s part of the living expenses you receive as a witness, especially as you won’t be living here in the city and will need reliable transportation to get to and from our office.”
It made sense.
“The car, however, cannot stick out in any way.”
Meaning, the more it looked like everything else on the road, the better. “Great,” I said, trying to sound cheerful, glancing over at the Jeep Wagoneer.
“Oh, that’s a good one,” Byers assured me. “It’s a 2003, and it runs great.”
Of everything there, it looked the best.
I used to drive a— I didn’t go any further with that thought. It wasn’t helpful, and though the creature comforts of my old life, the things I used to have, were amazing, the rest was not. Better to drive an older, dependable Jeep and not have to worry about killing anyone or being killed in the course of a day.
Alvarez joined us then as well and handed me paperwork in an envelope and two keys on a carnation-pink ring with a picture of a palm tree and a surfer. My gaze met hers in a question.
“I got it in Hawai’i when I was there on vacation. It looks vintage, right? Like an old hotel-room key. It’s cute.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “These are house keys, then, front door and deadbolt?”
“That’s right. We pay for a year of rent. Next year it’s on you.”
“Got it.”
“And the Jeep is a great choice,” she told me. “When it snows, the fact that it’s a four-wheel drive is going to be a huge help.”
“Sounds good.”
Byers went to the locked key box and returned with a bedazzled letter K with the Jeep key on it. Of the two, the K was better, so I gave Alvarez back her pink thing.
“Really?”
“This way you get to keep it,” I said cheerfully.
She shook her head at me. “There’s no accounting for taste.”
“Or not,” I teased her.
“I like you, but listen,” she said softly, serious now. “If anything happens, from a traffic stop to some small altercation when you’re out to dinner somewhere, your first call is to us.”
“You already told me this inside.”
“I know.”
“And all the other marshals have told me the same thing.”
“I’m aware.”
“So really, I’ve got it.”
“Okay.”
But from the skeptical look on her face, I was thinking she didn’t believe me. “You sure?”
“I just— If you see anyone who looks out of place, you—”
“Call you. Yes. I got it.”
“I read your file, so I can’t imagine anyone is looking for you away from any large city, figuring you’d never make it anywhere else—”
“Really?”
“Oh, absolutely,” she replied sincerely. “Most witnesses like yourself do not do well in an environment so dramatically different—like night-and-day different—from their original one.”
“So you’re setting me up for failure?”
“Not at all. The chief deputy of the Southern District of New York believes you will thrive here—she says in your file that you need a brand-new start.”
I squinted at her.
“Fine. There’s some flowery language from an FBI agent as well, who believes that you’ll bloom where you’re planted.”
“That’s terrible.”
“I told you it was flowery.”
“Okay, so you think I’ll be fine here.”
“I do,” she assured me. “But if you aren’t, if you need us for any reason, just please reach out, and we’ll get to Rune as soon as we can.”
“It’s a weird name for a town.”
“Not any more so than Chicago, if you think about it.”
“Whatever,” I grumbled.
“Listen, I put the address in your new phone, and it will take you right where you need to be.” She smiled then. “I believe you’re going to be perfectly safe and happy in Rune.”
A place that didn’t even sound real.
“Also, if you get in any trouble with the locals—”
“Because you might,” Byers chimed in.
“Because you might,” Alvarez agreed, “call us. You can get us both night and day.”
I had a new iPhone programmed with their numbers and nobody else’s.
It was becoming important to leave already. I was getting antsy, ready to start. I had to get on the road. “I will follow directions,” I reiterated, then walked around the car, opened the passenger side door, and threw onto the seat my duffel with the few clothes that had been bought in New York—not a designer label in the bunch. I had on the shearling-lined barn coat that Special Agent Lewis had purchased for me because she wanted to make sure I didn’t freeze in Oregon. At the time I was confused because I figured there would be rain, yes, but that it wouldn’t be cold, not in May. It turned out to be a mixed bag. Like today, it was raining, and the high was only fifty-seven. At night, with the showers, it would be down to forty-five. So no, I wouldn’t freeze, but the coat was a good call. It was strange not to have all my old clothes. Normally, people had personal items they took with them when they entered WITSEC. I had nothing, as everything I owned had been divvied up once I was considered dead. It had to be weird for everyone now, knowing I wasn’t.
