The Christmas party down the hall was making her head ache.
Callie Martin sank into a chair at the now-empty conference table and rested her head in her hands. She tried massaging her temples to alleviate the painful throb, but her hands were shaking too badly.
Drug conspiracy. Conspiracy to kidnap and murder. Money laundering conspiracy. Interstate travel in aid of drug trafficking. The assistant US attorney’s litany echoed in her mind, clashing with the cheerful strains of “Jingle Bells.”
In that other office, people were celebrating the season with food and music and good cheer. Callie didn’t begrudge them their fun. Any other year she’d have been happy to join in. But their party was in such contrast to the meeting that had just ended in this room.
No Christmas cheer for her. No punch, no cookies. Only a throbbing headache as she sat alone in a sterile New York City office, terrified beyond imagining about what her future might hold.
Callie wrapped her arms around her torso and huddled into herself. When she’d entered the Federal Witness Security program in Texas, she’d thought she was testifying only about the murders she’d witnessed. But the meeting today had established a terrifying new reality. According to a very determined assistant US attorney, that nightmare moment in her life was only one small part of a much bigger scheme.
And they thought she knew something about it.
Callie couldn’t sit still. She rose and started pacing the room. How could they think she knew more? She wasn’t into drugs. She was a kindergarten teacher. She was supposed to be spending December knee-deep in glitter and tinsel, and helping her students with the nativity play.
Instead she was running for her life, hiding out in witness protection. No Christmas lights. No fake snow. No fancy cookies.
This had to be a mistake. A bad dream. She’d wake up, and Rick would still be alive and she’d... No. Not a bad dream. It was what her life had become.
She wanted Ben to come back upstairs. Ben Wilson had been her marshal, her protector, since the day she entered WITSEC. Earlier, after the assistant US attorney had laid all the accusations on the table, and the DEA agent had glared at her in disbelief for denying she knew anything, Ben had sensed her panic. Like the good handler he was, he’d tried to run interference, leaving her under guard while he escorted the attorney and the DEA agent to their cars.
Callie had no doubt he wanted to talk to them in private, but she didn’t care. She’d just been grateful to see them leave. She’d blessed Ben for the solitude and the chance to gather her thoughts. But now she wanted him back. Wanted him to make sense of her world out of control.
“Jingle Bells” switched over to something softer, and Callie tried to calm herself. If only she could think straight. Understand what they wanted. She’d seen her ex-boyfriend and his band murdered. She’d told the authorities everything she knew. Every sordid detail of how that ex-boyfriend had turned out to be a drug dealer who was gunned down by the very people he worked with. She didn’t know anything more than that.
Why didn’t they believe her?
Distracted by her frantic thoughts, Callie almost missed the unfamiliar ring of her cell phone. Not many people called her on this new phone. Hope lifted her spirits as she noted Ben’s name light up on the display, and she fumbled to grab the phone.
“Ben? Where are you? Did you talk to her? Did—”
His voice cut across her questions. “Another marshal...coming to get you.” Erratic breathing punctuated the words, making them hard to understand. “His name... Jackson Walker. Go with him.”
“What?” Ben had been her marshal from the start. Why go with someone else now?
“Don’t go out front. Don’t...even... Go... Leave New York.”
Callie shook her head, trying to clear the confusion. This felt all wrong. The voice was so broken. Was it really even Ben? He’d been fine when he left. Did this have something to do with the meeting? Dread sucked her hope away. “What’s going on? Why should I go with someone else?”
“Because your security has been compromised.”
Callie swung around at the sound of the harsh voice behind her. A tall man blocked the doorway. Her first thought was he looked like someone she wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley. And she was supposed to go with him?
He flashed a badge at her. “Jackson Walker, US Marshals. Grab your purse and coat. We have to get out of here. Now.”
Callie stared at the stranger. He didn’t look like a marshal. His heavy jacket seemed straight out of an outdoorsman catalog, and he was wearing jeans and boots. The only thing missing was a cowboy hat. A dozen questions pinged in her brain. She settled on the most urgent. “How do I know I can trust you?”
He appeared to think about it for all of ten seconds. “You don’t. But I’m all you’ve got.”
Callie glanced at her phone. The display, her link to Ben, had gone dark.
“See those lights out there?”
Callie looked past him into the hallway. Some of the noise level had lowered, but the flashing lights were worse. They didn’t seem to be coming from the office anymore.
“Those aren’t Christmas lights. They’re ambulances.”
Callie swung back to look at his face. “What happened?”
“Attempted abduction.”
“What?”
“Someone tried to grab the assistant US attorney.”
The strained appearance of his face suggested more. “Ben?”
“Stabbed.”
Callie shook her head in denial, but she could see from his expression it was true. “But he was just here. He went down to bring the assistant US attorney...” Her words trailed off, and she leaned back on the table to steady herself against a wave of light-headedness. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ll explain what I can on the way.”
“But—”
“Listen, Ms. Martin.” He blew out a breath, softened his voice, but didn’t quite manage to hide his exasperation. “We have to get you out of here. Now.”
Callie was still reluctant to go with him. “Ben might need us.”
“We’re not doctors. The paramedics have him covered. My job is to protect you. That means getting out of here.”
“Where are we going?”
He just stared at her. “How long have you been in witness protection?”
“Shouldn’t you know that?”
He sighed. And glared.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not trying to be trouble, but it’s my life on the line here. I don’t know who to trust, and I don’t know you at all.”
“Didn’t Ben call and tell you to go with me?”
“Yes, but—”
“Ma’am, I don’t want to have to drag you out of here, but the longer you stay, the more you’re endangering yourself and everyone in the building.”
“How?”
He