RULES FOR DISAPPEARING
BY WITNESS PROTECTION PRISONER #18A7R04M:
Don’t ever think it’s over. Even when you’re sure it’s over, it’s not over.
WE race outside and Ethan drops down next to Carla while I go directly to Elle. For a split second I think they’re both dead. Until Elle moans when I pull the gag out of her mouth.
“Elle! Elle! Wake up!” I try to rip the plastic tie that’s binding her hands, but it’s too tough.
I glance at Ethan, and he’s got his pocketknife out and frees Carla’s hands, then turns to Elle. A quick swipe and her hands fall to her sides.
“Do you think that agent did this or the men working for Sanchez?” Ethan asks.
I don’t know what to say. Or think.
He hands me the small blade and says, “I’m going to look around. Maybe that agent got attacked, too.” But I’m thinking that something with Agent Thomas is really wrong. Ethan’s right: how did he know what we were here for?
He leaves before I can beg him to stay. The sun is beating down and it’s hot, but I can’t stop shivering. What in the hell just happened?
Elle starts moving around, and I help her to a sitting position.
“Elle, are you okay? What happened?” I push her hair out of her face and feel a huge knot right behind her ear.
She moans and grabs her head. “I don’t know. We walked outside. Carla was right next to me, and then all of a sudden she was falling. I reached for her, and that is the last thing I remember.”
Carla whimpers but doesn’t wake up.
I scan the lawn, praying that whoever did this is long gone. I almost hope Ethan finds Agent Thomas around the corner so he’s not what I think he is.
Ethan comes back, drops down beside me, and says, “Nothing. No sign of that agent or anyone else. Didn’t he say his partner was talking to Elle and Carla?”
I nod and ask, “What about Laura? Is she okay?” Laura was waiting for us in Elle’s car around the corner, ready to help us make our getaway.
“She’s fine. Never saw a thing. I sent her to the gatehouse and told her to wait there with the guard and call the cops.”
I hand Ethan his knife back, and he stands over us, keeping guard until I hear sirens. I can’t help but think of Agent Thomas and wonder who he really is.
The place is swarming with cops and suits. Agent Williams paces around the room in front of us. He was in the main guardhouse, so it didn’t take him long to get here. He’s a big man with shocking white hair that is surprisingly long in the back. I remember Dad saying Agent Williams was on his side about not forcing the return of my memory, and I wonder if he regrets that now.
Elle and Carla are being looked over by paramedics while Laura is outside freaking out. They won’t let her in, but I can hear her calling our names from the front yard.
Ethan and I sit with our backs against the wall in Price’s office. I explain as best I can how everything went down, starting with our cross-country trip and ending with Agent Thomas. Of course I don’t mention that I wasn’t planning on handing the ledgers over to the suits.
It’s so quiet when I finish, I don’t think anyone even breathes. Agent Williams finally explodes. “Who is this Agent Thomas?” He barks orders to the suits behind him. “Find out if this place has security cameras and look for a picture. Get the tech guys in here.” He whirls around. “Did he touch anything in here?”
My eyes close as I bring back the image of him entering the room. “No. We gave him the bag with the ledgers. He said he was calling you, and then he left.”
“He got into this house some way. Get someone over here to dust every doorknob.” Agent Williams screams at everyone in the room, “How did this happen?”
“I put the tracker in the bag.” Ethan’s voice is firm but quiet.
Silence.
“What tracker?” Agent Williams bears down on Ethan.
“A GPS tracker we use with our dogs. Anna had one, so I threw it in the bag with the ledgers. I figured it couldn’t hurt.”
The room erupts in chaos. Ethan asks to borrow a smartphone and pulls up the Web site that shows where the ledgers are. Agent Williams starts barking orders, handing the phone over to a suit before he runs from the room.
Agent Williams turns to me. “I don’t even want to get into why you came out here on your own, but why would you give the ledgers to someone you didn’t know?” His voice is raised, and his face is red and splotchy.
“What do you mean? I did know him. And he told me Sanchez was killed last night—that you wouldn’t need me to testify anymore,” I say quietly.
Silence.
“Sanchez is alive and well—I saw surveillance tape of him this morning. How did you know this man?” His voice is controlled but angry.
What the hell. Sanchez is alive?
I flash my eyes around the room, stopping at Ethan. He’s back next to me and holds my hand. “He found me one day in a coffee shop in Natchitoches. I skipped class. When the school couldn’t get Mom, they called you guys. He came and tracked me down.”
Agent Williams lets out a deep breath and closes his eyes. “The U.S. Marshals Service is not listed as a contact at a protected person’s school.” He opens his eyes. “Did you see him any other time?”
I swallow hard. This is really scaring me. “Yes, he came to the laundry room where we live. Said he needed to talk to me about Mom. That he had just been talking to Dad, but Dad wasn’t being helpful.”
A vein ticks on the side of Agent Williams’s face. “A U.S. Marshal will never approach a minor outside of the presence of her parents unless it is an extreme emergency. Like this. Is that it?”
I shake my head. “No, he gave me his business card. I called him because I wanted to know what would happen if I left the program. He came and checked on me at Pearl’s once, too.”
Agent Williams holds out his hand. “Do you still have the card?”
I pull the card from my back pocket. I hate to admit that he would have been the one I called if Ethan and I got into trouble.
“What made you call him and not some other agent? You have a hotline number if there’s a problem.”
I shrug, feeling helpless. “I don’t know. He seemed nice. He’s the only one of you who ever really talked to me.” I feel so stupid.
Agent Williams holds the card by the edges and inspects it closely, turning it over several times. “This is a fairly good copy. Don’t know that I would recognize it as a fake.” He drops it into a plastic bag that is offered by one of the other suits.
The tech team arrives, and the suits direct them around the house.
Ethan and I are ushered to the den, and we sit on the edge of the couch. Carla and Elle are gone. I’m assuming they left with the paramedics. I don’t hear Laura screaming anymore either. Mrs. Price came home at some point, pointing her finger and threatening lawsuits, but they moved her out pretty quick.
Agent Williams crouches down in front of us. “I’m going to bring a few people in. In case they can’t get him, we’re going to need you to remember as much as you can about the conversations you’ve had with this man. There will also be a sketch artist. Work with him and let’s see if we can get some sort of idea of what he looks like. The housekeeper and your friend never saw him, but luckily, you both did.”
Yeah, real lucky.
Agent Williams stands to leave, and I crumble into Ethan’s arms. All the adrenaline is gone. I’m left with the sinking feeling of being right back where I started. If the ledgers are gone and they know my memory has returned, I’m back on the chopping block. I’m worried the suits will still want me to testify against Sanchez, but I’m more worried Sanchez still wants me dead.
We’re drained. Ethan and I have been questioned all afternoon. I repeated my conversations with Thomas over and over to make sure I remembered every detail. The artist was here and created a pretty accurate drawing of what he looks like. Ethan and I couldn’t agree on a few things, like the exact shape of his eyes, but all in all it’s good. The techs collected a ton of prints.
Ethan and I lean back into the couch. My head is on his shoulder as we watch all the activity around us.
Ethan turns his head toward my ear. “We could make a run for it.”
I smile. “If I thought we could get away with it, I’d be the first one out the door.”
He plays with my fingers. “So, what does this mean?”
I shrug. “I guess I’m back in the program. I don’t know. With the ledgers gone, I’m all they’ve got.”
“You could refuse. If Thomas worked for Sanchez or the drug cartel, he could have killed us both this morning. Why didn’t he? Two quick shots and we’d be gone.”
I get goose bumps when he says this. It’s a thought I’ve had crawling around in the back of my mind, but I was too scared to let it come to the surface. Ethan’s right. We should be dead right now. In fact, Thomas has had a handful of times to kill me.
I curl up and bury my head in the cushions. I can’t take any more of this. Nothing is what I thought it was, and I feel like I am going crazy. Ethan keeps a hand on my back but doesn’t say anything else. I turn my head and watch the room. It’s still full of people writing reports and talking on phones; it reminds me of that first morning at my house when we entered the program. My world is falling apart and it’s business as usual. Agent Williams is in the corner, his phone to his ear. He’s listening to the conversation but watching me, and his expression is not good.
He hangs up his phone without saying a word. He shouts, “Everyone’s got what they need in here. Let’s take what we have and start looking for this guy.”
The suits pack everything up and scatter one by one, leaving Ethan and me alone with Agent Williams.
He sits down in a chair, looking at us both. His hair is sticking up in the back, and his eyes are tired. “I just got a call from one of our agents following the tracker. They traced the signal to Eduardo Sanchez’s home. Sanchez is dead. The tracker was stuck in his pocket, and his body was still warm. We’ve had agents on him ever since the shooting, but no one saw anything this morning. In fact, they didn’t realize there was a problem with Sanchez until the other agents showed up looking for the tracker.”
“Was it Thomas?” I ask.
Agent Williams looks deflated. “No one knows. No one saw anything.”
“How did he die?” Ethan asks. I don’t know if I want to hear the answer.
“His neck was cut from one side to the other.”
I bury myself in Ethan’s side while he stares at the floor.
“So what does this mean?” I ask.
“Well, that’s the kicker. For you, it’s actually good news. There’s no one to testify against. And no reason anyone should come looking for you. If Thomas wanted you dead, that’s all we would’ve found when we got here.”
I should be relieved. But I’m sick inside. And confused. For whatever reason, Agent Thomas let us live, and I’ll probably never know why.