In The Lawman's Protection

She was successful at that for all of ten minutes.

The knock on the door had her bolting from her lazy sprawl in the hammock, her heart a hammer against her ribs. She looked at the front door, then at the stairs that led from the deck down to the street below. Should she run?

Her backpack was still inside. If she ran, she would have to leave everything behind. Money. Clothes. It wasn’t much, but it was all she had.

The knock came again as she fought to decide what to do.

Damien wouldn’t knock. She calmed a little as the words flowed through her. If Damien had found her he would not be knocking politely at the door.

This wasn’t even her house. Chances were it was someone for the owners. Easy to get rid of. She walked inside to the front door, collecting herself.

As soon as she opened the door she knew she’d made a mistake.

Everything about the Asian man and smaller blonde woman, both dressed in carefully cut suits, screamed federal agents. Natalie should’ve chosen to take the stairs at the deck, to get out while she could. Leaving behind everything would’ve been better.

She forced herself to breathe at an even, normal pace. She eased the door more slightly closed, hoping if she needed to slam it and run she’d be able to.

“Can I help you?”

“Natalie?” The woman, four or five inches shorter than Natalie, with hair almost the same color blond, spoke.

“I’m sorry,” Natalie said, avoiding the question. “This isn’t my house. I’m just house-sitting for a friend.”

Oh, crap, Natalie realized she didn’t really know anything about the owners. She had their names written down somewhere on the instructions Olivia had given her, but didn’t remember them offhand.

“But you’re Natalie, right?” the woman asked again softly. The man moved slightly closer to the woman, almost as if he was going to step in front of her to protect her if she needed it. Like Natalie was going to jump out at her kicking and clawing. That was the last thing he needed to worry about.

She had to stay calm. “I think you have me confused with someone else. Like I said, this isn’t my house, but I promise I’m not here illegally.” She inched the door farther closed.

The woman just reached down into her bag and pulled out a photograph, sticking it directly in front of Natalie’s face.

Fear closed around her throat. It was a shot of her and Damien on their wedding day, smiling at one another. Natalie’s hair had been much longer, her cheeks fuller, her smile genuine.

She felt the room begin to spin.

“Whoa, are you okay?” It was the man this time. He pushed the door open and grabbed Natalie’s arm before she could fall. “Just take a breath, all right? We just want to ask some questions.”

Natalie’s knees couldn’t hold her anymore and the guy helped lower her to a sitting position on the floor leaning back against the wall next to the door. Both he and the woman took advantage of Natalie’s moment of weakness to enter the house, closing the door behind them.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Natalie said again. “This isn’t my house.”

The two people looked at each other, the man giving the woman a slight nod. Some sort of secret agent code, for sure. Then they both looked back at her, squatting down so they were closer to her, eye to eye.

“I’m Andrea,” the woman said. “And this is my husband, Brandon.”

No last names. No credentials. Natalie didn’t want to push, but at least they weren’t reading her her Miranda rights.

Of course, the afternoon was still young.

“I’m sorry, I’m not feeling well,” Natalie finally responded. “I appreciate your help, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Like I said, this isn’t my house and I had express instructions that I wasn’t to have anyone else here while the owners are away.”

“Just let us help you get over to the couch,” the man, Brandon, said. “Just to make sure you’re okay.”

If that would get them to leave, then great. “Fine.”

She took the hands both of them outstretched and rose. They walked her over to the couch, and she sat back down, feeling the shirt and pants she’d thrown over it rub against her back.

“Thanks. If you guys don’t mind seeing yourselves out, that would be great.” Natalie would be seeing herself out as soon as they were gone.

Out of the entire state.

“It’s obvious you don’t want to talk to us,” Andrea said, taking a seat in the chair across from Natalie, much to her dismay. “We’d just like you to listen for a few minutes.”

What could she do? Natalie nodded slowly.

“We’re trying to find Damien Freihof,” Brandon said, coming to stand next to his wife, still staying within a protective reach.

Natalie fought not to blanch, not to give anything away, when it was all she could do not to bolt. “I’m sorry. I think you have mistaken me for someone else.”

It was just as flimsy the third time, but it was all she had—hanging on to the possibility that they weren’t exactly sure who she was. Although the wedding picture was pretty damning.

But at least if they were looking for Damien, they hadn’t been sent by him.

“Falsifying a death report is illegal,” Brandon continued, but then stopped with just the slightest touch on his arm by Andrea.

Just a single touch. What would it be like to have someone respect you and care for you so much that the touch of fingertips communicated something both ways? Something Brandon obviously respected.

Natalie had never had that in her entire life.

“It’s imperative that we find Damien Freihof,” Andrea said. “Lives are at stake.”

Natalie just stared. She couldn’t help them even if she wanted to. She’d known better than to keep tabs on Damien—the man was near genius with a computer. He would’ve found out.

She shrugged. “I can’t help you.”

“Maybe we can help you,” Andrea continued. “Keep you safe, if that’s part of your concerns.”

Natalie just shrugged again.

“We’re talking about more than just Brandon and me, of course,” Andrea continued. “An entire team. A very strong group of people who would help you.”

For just a second Natalie wanted to cave, to find out more, to trust someone so she wouldn’t have to live in fear all the time. But she squashed it down. She couldn’t trust anyone. All she could do was run.

Because the truth was, if these people had found her, Damien could, too. She needed to get them out of here.

“Look, I’m sorry. I know I look a lot like that woman in the picture. Quite the doppelgänger.” She gave a laugh that sounded fake even to her own ears. “But that’s not me. I can see how you would think that it is, but it’s just not. I’ve never been married.”

She stood up and walked toward the massive kitchen that was open to the living room, gripping the island to try to steady herself. “I don’t want to be rude, but I’ve got appointments and stuff scheduled for this afternoon. So I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

What was she going to do if they didn’t leave? Threaten to call the police? Natalie wasn’t capable of that kind of bluff.

“Falsifying your own death is illegal,” Brandon said again. Natalie just stared at him unflinchingly.

Her choice had been between faking her own death or eventually ending up actually dead. She had no doubt the course she’d been on with Damien would’ve led to her eventual death.

So no matter how crappy her life was now, how many jobs she had to work to survive, how many sticky notes she had to put on windows to convince herself she was safe and how accusingly this law enforcement agent looked at her now...she’d definitely made the right choice.

“I’m sure it is, Officer...”

The two looked at each other again, secret agent code with some husband/wife telepathy thrown in. They got up and walked closer to her in the kitchen, where she was filling a cup with water from the tap.

“My name is Brandon Han,” he finally said. “I’m an agent with Omega Sector’s Critical Response Division.”

They were both staring at her as if this would cause some big reaction. Natalie had no idea what they were talking about. She’d never heard of Omega Sector and wasn’t about to ask any questions.

They were cops. They could bring to light the fact that she was still alive, if they hadn’t already. And maybe she might do a year or two in prison for faking her death, but that would be nothing compared to what she would face after she got out.

“Okay, Agent Han. I’m still not who you think I am. I’m sorry I can’t help you. But I’m still going to need to ask you to leave.”

“Omega Sector can protect you,” Agent Han continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “We can make sure the slate is wiped clean. No jail time for you for falsifying. If there is something else, we can maybe make a deal for that, too.”

Something else? What the hell else illegal did they think she’d done? Maybe they were talking about taxes or something. That could add up to more jail time.

Which would still be safer than being out on the streets if Damien knew she was alive. God, she had to get out of here. The panic was crawling all over her body, slimy and slick. She couldn’t get rid of it. Just needed to get out of here. Right. Now.

“Please go.” She forced the hoarse words past her throat and nearly buckled in relief when they turned toward the door without further argument. Brandon reached into his pocket and grabbed a card. Natalie took it, although she never planned to even so much as glance at it again.

“Call us if anything changes,” Brandon said as Natalie opened the door and allowed them to walk through. “Anything. At any time. And especially if you happen to see Damien Freihof. And remember, the earlier you get us information, the better it will go for you. Deals for keeping you out of prison are only good when they help both sides.”

“I’m still not your person. Sorry.” She smiled in as friendly a manner as she could manage.

She was closing the door behind them when at the very last second Andrea stopped her with a hand on the door. It was only open a crack and Natalie had stepped behind it so she couldn’t see them. She considered just shutting it until she heard Andrea’s words.

“Damien Freihof got remarried to someone else two years after his wife Natalie died. Because no body for Natalie was ever identified, he was required to file for divorce before he could remarry. So no matter what, according to state laws, his marriage with Natalie is null and void even if she magically reappeared alive somewhere.”

Marriage was null and void. Natalie gripped the door, barely able to contain a sob.

“Call us, Natalie. We want to help.” Andrea took the pressure off the door and it slid shut, leaving Natalie alone. She turned and slid her back all the way down the wood until she reached the ground, tears streaming out of her eyes.

She wasn’t married to Damien anymore. No matter what, she wasn’t married to him.

Until this moment she’d had no idea that had even been a concern, but now she realized it had been a huge one. That if she was discovered alive she’d be returned to her husband. The man who had abused her for years.

But that would never happen because they weren’t married anymore. She took a shuddery breath, pulling that fact deep into her soul. Damien would never be her husband again.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t kill her if he found her.

She got up off the ground. She had to get going right now.

Because lack of an official piece of paper calling them married was not going to stop Damien from hunting her if he found out she was alive. California was no longer safe.

She needed to run.

Chapter Three

“Did you get what you needed?” Brandon asked as he and Andrea stepped into the surveillance van that was parked farther down the block from the beach house.

Ren shrugged. “I didn’t get a location on Freihof, so not exactly.”

He’d had both audio and partial video of Andrea and Brandon’s discussion with Natalie. The questioning had gone down like he’d expected it would: without any cooperation from her.

“Maybe we should’ve pushed harder,” Brandon said, sitting in the van’s only other seat and pulling his wife onto his lap.

“No.” Ren shook his head, glancing at the feed they had of the front of the house. “We needed to keep the situation open. Make Natalie think that she has options, can still get word to Freihof if she wants to. Maybe run to him and both of them flee the country.”

Whatever she did, they would be watching.

“I don’t think she’s working with him,” Andrea said. “I should’ve brought up the not-married aspect earlier. That was key, I realize now. If I had been able to see her when I said that, I’d be able to tell a lot more about her.”

Andrea was a gifted behavioral analyst. Her abilities to read people’s nonverbal cues were uncanny.

“Do you think she was upset that she’s not legally married to him anymore?”

She gave a small shrug. “I don’t know for sure, since I wasn’t able to see her. But the news definitely affected her. Her knuckles were white in her grip and she stopped pushing on the door because she wanted to hear what I had to say.”

“She could’ve been upset because Freihof hadn’t told her about the divorce. Any wife would be pretty miffed to get that news.”

Andrea nodded. “That’s possible, certainly.”

Ren studied her. “But you don’t think so.”

Brandon curled his arm around his wife in support. Out of everyone in Omega Sector, these two had had the most contact with Damien Freihof. Freihof had written letters to Andrea while in prison, then had come after her once he’d escaped.

“Freihof is obsessive. Controlling,” Brandon said. “Hell, the man once saved Andrea’s life just because he wanted to kill her himself.”

Andrea nodded, leaning into Brandon. “Freihof is a master puppeteer. He’s been collecting people who have some sort of gripe with Omega for months. Inciting them to violence. Getting them to do his dirty work for him. Or at least trying to.”

The number of people connected to Omega who had been hurt or killed by either Freihof or one of his puppets over the last few months had been pretty staggering. Omega was still reeling. It was the reason Ren was on this case personally.

“Agreed.” Ren nodded. “But what does this mean with Natalie? She didn’t even admit to being Natalie Freihof much less give any info on him.”

“There’s something we’re missing,” Andrea said. “Honestly, I’m not sure exactly what it is, but I know it’s important. We don’t have all the information.”

Ren didn’t need all the information to make his move. “It doesn’t matter. Your presence shook her up. She’ll do something now. Hopefully lead us directly to her not-husband husband.”

Andrea tilted her head to the side. Ren could feel her studying him. Gauging his nonverbal behavior. “And if she doesn’t know where he is? If she’s been dead all this time to get away from him?”

“She’s been running three businesses without anyone even knowing she’s alive. She’s either one hell of a businesswoman or she’s doing it for Freihof.”

Andrea shrugged again. “All I’m saying is that we’re missing pieces of information. Important pieces.”

“That’s why I’m going to be ready for anything. She’s going to run. Hopefully trying to get somewhere where she thinks it’s safe to contact Freihof. Where she’s forced to contact Freihof. We’re just going to make sure we control that spot when she does.”

“And if she really doesn’t know where he is? If she’s been trying to stay away from him all this time? Hide from him?”

Highly unlikely, but Ren was willing to consider it. “Then we go to plan B. If she can’t take us to Freihof, then we use Freihof’s obsession to get him to come to her.”

“That may be risking her life,” Andrea said quietly.

“Natalie is a criminal here. Let’s not forget that. She could’ve gone to law enforcement if she wanted to get away from her husband. It’s much more likely that the two of them have been in on this together the whole time. That Freihof is trusting her to run her businesses to get him money.”

“She didn’t recognize Omega Sector at all when we mentioned who we were with,” Brandon said. “Even I could tell that, and I’m not nearly as gifted at reading people. If she’s working with Freihof, he’s keeping huge chunks of information from her.”

Or maybe she was just a much better liar than they were giving her credit for. Trained by Freihof to completely school her nonverbal reactions so they couldn’t read her. “Look, I don’t have all the answers. All I know is we’re out of time, especially now that Freihof has those canisters. We shook things up, caught Natalie unaware. That’s good. Now I suspect that tonight or early tomorrow she’s going to make a break for it. We watch carefully and—”

Ren’s words were cut off by Brandon’s muttered curse. He pointed at the screen. “Actually, looks like she’s already on the run.”

The screen showed Natalie, the small backpack she always carried over one shoulder and a larger one over the other, already on the move, coming out her front door.

“Damn it, I wasn’t expecting her to move that fast. Get Lillian Muir on the phone and tell her to get in place down at the bus station.”

Andrea stood and grabbed her phone.

“There weren’t any calls from the house phone or the taps would’ve automatically turned on,” Ren said. “She must have already had an emergency plan in place. Which doesn’t strengthen the case for her being an innocent party.”

“Unless she’s just that scared,” Brandon reasoned.

“Lillian will be at the downtown bus station in fifteen minutes,” Andrea said, disconnecting the call. “It might be cutting it a little close if Natalie goes straight there, but Lillian should make it.”

“Good. Muir is a good choice. If you don’t know her, her size helps her come across as very nonthreatening. Natalie will respond to the suggestion more easily.”

They needed to direct Natalie’s path without making her suspicious.

“Brandon and I want to stop Freihof more than anyone,” Andrea said, staring at him. “Trust me, I can still feel the explosives he strapped around my neck. So I hope you can get what you need from Natalie, Ren. And in a lot of ways I hope you’re right and she is working with Freihof.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Because if not, we’re about to ruin an innocent woman’s life.”

* * *

NATALIE HAD BEEN taking the bus from the Santa Barbara oceanfront to downtown since she started house-sitting two weeks ago. She’d always been cautiously aware of anyone around her.

Now she was downright suspicious.

Were some of these people cops? Were they following her? Did they work for that Omega-whatever that Brandon and Andrea mentioned?

Nobody seemed to be paying any attention to her, which she hoped was a good sign. Maybe she had gotten out faster than the cops had expected. She’d grabbed her bug-out bag and left.

That was the point of a bug-out bag, right? So you could bug-out the instant you needed to.

Her bag wasn’t a true survivalist kit, but it had changes of clothes, all her spare cash, some nutrition bars and a bottle-size water filtration system. It even contained a high-end sleeping bag that folded into the size of a bowling ball, but only weighed a pound and a half. She’d balked at the price at the time, but now took comfort in knowing that if she needed to walk or hitchhike out of California, she could. Although her paints would have to go if she did that, which she hated to even consider, hoping to one day get the courage to use them again.

But there was no way she was staying here, even though she was losing her only means of employment. There had to be somewhere she could go where law enforcement wouldn’t find her. She wasn’t a violent criminal. Her picture wasn’t going to show up on some Most Wanted list at the post office.

But she wanted to get as far away from here as possible. She would start heading to the East Coast—Boston or New York or Atlanta—somewhere where she could get lost in the crowd.

Flying was out since that required an ID, but she was hoping to get a jump on her escape by catching the first bus out. Hopefully it would take a day or two before the agents came back—and Natalie had no doubts they’d be back—and discovered she was gone.

Fifteen minutes after she left the beach house she was stepping off the bus in downtown Santa Barbara. The bus station, pretty tiny and nondescript, was another quarter mile down the main drag, far enough away from the tourist section to not be an eyesore.

The station was really just a large room with a series of benches and hard plastic chairs, and a small office where the ticket seller sat behind a glassed-in counter. The room was empty and the man working behind the counter was reading a magazine.

The first thing she needed to decide was where she wanted to go. But honestly, she didn’t care. She would just see what was available.

“Can I help you?” the guy asked without looking up from his magazine as Natalie stepped up to the counter.

The door opened behind him. “Hey, George. Need you out here.”

George turned from Natalie. “What? Who are—”

“The main office is on the line and some bigwig asked for you by name.” The dark-haired woman in her midthirties, wearing the same uniform as George, walked into the small office and squeezed his shoulders, obviously urging him to stand. “Dude, just go. Rick’s got the call on hold in his office. He sent me in here to relieve you.”

George just looked confused. “But who are—”

The woman glanced over at Natalie and rolled her eyes with a look that screamed, Men. Am I right? “George, honey, I don’t know who it is. But I’m thinking promotion, so just go.”

George stood. “Yeah, okay. A promotion would be good. Um, you’re okay here?”

The woman rolled her eyes again before shooing him out. “No need to mansplain it. Lily’s got it handled.” Once George was out the back door, Lily turned back around to Natalie. “Okay! What can I do for you now that we’ve got the dead weight out of the room?” She winked at Natalie again.

Despite the panic crushing down on her, Natalie had to smile at the pocket-size woman who’d handled George so deftly.

“I need a ticket.”

“That I can do. Where’re you headed and when do you want to go there? We’ve got some great sales coming up next week if you want to go north.”

“No, next week won’t work. I know it will cost me more, but I need to go today.”

Lily smiled. “No problem. Where to?”

“What are my options?”

“We have daily buses that go to Los Angeles, San Francisco and Las Vegas. From any of those you can get to just about anywhere. Where are you ultimately trying to get to?”

Natalie shifted back and forth, finding it difficult to look the friendly woman in the eye. “East Coast. Honestly, anywhere. But I was thinking Atlanta or maybe Philadelphia. I just need to get out of here today.”

“I see. Well, do you prefer Atlanta over Philadelphia?”

Atlanta would be less cold and didn’t tend to get snow. “Sure. Atlanta. But just...it’s important that I leave as soon as possible.”

Lily nodded, a little more solemn. “Okay, hon. Let me see what I can find.”

Natalie waited as Lily began typing. After a few moments, a frown marred her forehead and a minute after that she began to grumble.

“Is there a problem?” Natalie finally asked.

“There’s a California drivers’ strike affecting buses from both LA and San Francisco. So neither of those are available for the next few days.”

“Okay. What about Vegas?”

Lily nodded. “I’m checking that now.”

The woman’s fingers flew along the keyboard. Her grimace didn’t reassure Natalie. “Completely full until Saturday. I’m so sorry, honey. What about flights? I know our municipal airport isn’t much, but they have some flights. Or renting a car?”