CHAPTER TWO
I left Zag's feeling slightly nauseated. Jack Nelson had broken out of prison? The same Jack Nelson who'd tortured ten women before murdering them, then convinced me he was being framed? That Jack Nelson? The very same Jack Nelson that I had tried my hardest to keep out of prison? I don't know how he'd done it, but now that he had escaped, I felt monumentally uneasy.
I got in my car and drove to work, my mind going crazy. He’s probably gonna hightail it out of America on the first flight out, don’t worry. I couldn’t shake that last memory of him declaring revenge on me though. You're just paranoid. He only said that because he was pissed that he'd lost the case. He wouldn't be stupid enough to go after you now that he is a fugitive of the law. You've changed law firms anyway. He would have a hard time finding you.
I parked, and I calmed myself down as I walked through the parking lot into the lobby of Steinberger, Steinberger, & Fenman. I told myself I was irrational and that there was nothing to worry about. Everything was normal today. This prison break changed nothing.
I said hello to Stan, the security guard, who buzzed me into the elevator hallway. I walked through the rows of cubicles to my little corner cubicle and plopped down in my ergonomic chair. I rifled through my briefcase, found the file for the case I was currently on, and started working. There's nothing like preparing mortgage documents to numb your mind with boredom, and pretty soon, the buzzing in my mind was dulled by sheer boredom.
“Hey, Kelsey.” I popped my head up, knocking my elbow on my keyboard.
“Ow," I yelped, rubbing it. I looked over at Sharon Fritz, the woman whose cubicle was next to mine. She was a great lawyer, but a notorious busybody. I looked around at everyone working and wondered which unlucky soul was the subject of her gossip this afternoon. "Yeah, Sharon?" I asked warily.
“Have you heard?” she asked, leaning over the wall of my cubicle with her coffee.
“Heard what?" I asked. She looked delighted that I didn't already know whatever she was about to tell me.
“Well, about the prison break. Everyone’s talking about it. A serial killer has escaped from prison up in Culpeper, and he’s on the run now. Do you not watch the news?” she said gleefully.
"Oh, that," I said, my heart speeding up again. I tried to act nonchalant. "Yeah, I heard about that. It's a shame, but I'm sure the police will find the guy in no time."
Sharon looked skeptical. “He’s supposed to be super smart and cunning. Able to disguise himself as whatever you want him to be. He’d charm the pants off you and kill you before you knew what was happening.”
“I think someone’s been reading too many suspense novels,” I said. Did Sharon somehow know the connection between Jack Nelson and me? “Besides, we work at a real estate law firm hours away from where he escaped. The chances of any of us running into him are near zilch.”
Sharon shrugged, pushing back from the cubicle wall. “Just saying, be on your guard, Kelsey. I heard all of his victims were pretty blondes.” I nodded, feeling queasy. I tried to go back to reviewing mortgage documents but wasn't able to overcome the uncertainty that was whirling in me.
I stood up after another hour of unproductive review and headed to the lunch room to get some coffee. There were a couple of people sitting at the table, talking excitedly. As I got closer to them, I realized that they were discussing Jack Nelson and his miraculous escape. I poured my coffee and considered putting a little Irish cream in there to take the edge off. I dismissed this notion and decided to deal with my anxiety the old-fashioned way- ignoring it.
I sat down by myself at the far end of the table, ignoring the looks of the gossipers down the other end. I stared into my coffee, willing my heart rate to go back to normal. Perhaps decaf would’ve been a better choice. I sat there, lost in my thoughts as I fiddled with my coffee mug.
“Ms. Jones?" someone asked timidly. I didn't react, not wanting to discuss Jack Nelson with anyone. "Kelsey?" I looked up. It was Janine, my boss' assistant. She looked nervous, but then again, she was always nervous.
“Yes, Janine?” I asked, finishing off my coffee. She fidgeted more while I looked at her curiously. “Are you okay, Janine?”
“Um, Mr. Steinberger needs to see you in his office. Right now," she squeaked out. Bob wanted to see me? Bob Steinberger was an intimidating man who almost never pulled anyone into his office, so this was a big deal. I stood up, put my coffee mug in the sink, then headed over to see what Bob wanted.
When I got to Bob's office, I stood in the doorway unsurely, shifting from foot to foot. I peered around the door frame and was startled to see that Bob wasn't alone. A broad-shouldered man with longish red hair was seated across from Bob. His back was turned to me, so I couldn't see who it was. At the clearing of my throat, the red-haired man turned around. There was a flicker of surprise on his face, which he quickly masked with a hard-lipped frown. He turned back to face Bob.
"Come in and shut the door, Kelsey," Bob said.
Uh-oh. That didn’t sound good. Who is this guy, an unhappy client? I wracked my brain, trying to think of any recent cases I'd handled that had negative results for the firm. Nothing came to mind.
The stranger stood up when I closed the door and extended his hand to me. I took it cautiously as I looked up into his face. He was handsome, with dazzling green eyes, shaggy hair, reddish-brown stubble, and that hard-lined mouth. I released his hand and turned to Bob with an upturned eyebrow, silently asking who this guy was.
“Kelsey, this is Liam Sullivan," Bob announced. "He's a U.S. Marshal." A knot formed in my stomach as I began to suspect why Liam Sullivan was here.
“Ms. Jones," Liam said, standing with his hands on his hips. His wide stance drew my eyes downwards. There was a badge on his belt by one hand, and by the other hand, a gun. "We have a situation. We need to take immediate action to ensure your safety." My eyes snapped back upwards at his brisk tone. He stared at me intensely as I squirmed, knowing what he was going to say next. "One of your former clients, Jack Nelson, has escaped from Coffeewood Correctional Facility in Culpeper. We have strong reason to believe he may specifically target you for revenge. You need to be placed in hiding immediately until we've caught him and locked him back up."
So I hadn't just been paranoid. Jack had meant it when he'd said he was going to get back at me. My vision started going black. I grabbed the back of a chair for balance, swinging it around so I could sit down. With my forearms resting on my knees, I struggled to say something coherent. "So I have to go into hiding? Where, at my house?"
Liam Sullivan shook his head. “At an undisclosed location. Listen, this is just temporary. Stuff like this normally blows over in a week or so.”
“Stuff like this?” I asked faintly. “Does stuff like this happen often?”
Liam didn’t say anything. I looked over at Bob, who looked thunderstruck. I guess Liam hadn’t told him the reason he’d needed to see me. “Well, Kelsey, obviously this is something that needs to happen. Rest assured, you’ll still have a job here when you get back.” How magnanimous of him. “Well, not if you’re gone for a month or two, but a week or so is certainly doable.” He shook his head in what he thought was a very kind manner.
“A month?” I said. I turned to Liam. “This can’t last a month, can it?”
He shrugged. “Hard to tell. You can’t put a timer on something like this. Every situation is different. But like I said, it usually blows over quickly.”
I was starting to panic now. Liam was still standing there with his hands on his hips, and Bob was sitting behind his desk absentmindedly tapping a pen against a file folder. I dropped my head down into my cradled hands and squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that when I opened them, my reality would be different. This couldn't be happening to me, right? I thought I'd put all of this behind me when I changed my law focus from criminal law to boring real estate law. How could this be my life?
I felt a hand on my shoulder and opened my eyes, looking up. Liam was looming tall over me, looking sympathetic despite that hard-lipped look on his face. "I'm sorry, I know you need time to process this, but we need to get a move on. I've got a van waiting for us outside right now."
“Right now?" I asked. "Right this second, right now?"
Liam nodded. “I told you, this is a time-sensitive situation. We need to get on the road.”
I looked over at Bob, who was still tapping that pen on his desk. “Okay, I guess. Bob, I guess I’ll see you in a week or so. I’ll hand off my cases to someone else.” He nodded, standing up to extend his hand to me.
“Good luck, Kelsey. I’m sure they’ll nab the bastard.” He smiled jauntily, trying unsuccessfully to seem like this was no big deal. I shook his hand briefly, and Liam steered me out of the room by the shoulder.
We walked through the rows of cubicles like that, with his hand on my shoulder, and everyone stopped what they were doing to stare openly at us. It wasn't every day that an employee got escorted out of the office by a federal agent. This was sure to be the talk of the firm for the next month or so. I stopped by my desk to pick up my purse and my briefcase, which contained my laptop and all of my current cases. I peeked my head into Sharon's cubicle, where she was pretending not to have been gawking at me a minute earlier.
“Oh, Kelsey, hey!” she chirped. With an exaggerated look of surprise, she peered at Liam. “Oh, I didn’t see you there! How do you do?”
“Sharon, I have to go out of town for about a week for an unexpected family emergency. Can you take over these cases for me? I'll repay the favor as soon as I get back." She nodded, still staring at Liam. I raised my eyebrows, and her eyes snapped back to me. She took the briefcase from my hands.
“Yeah, of course. I hope everything is okay!" she said. I nodded tersely and waved goodbye, and Liam, still holding my shoulder, steered me out of the office and into the hallway. I resented being treated like a prisoner, and I shrugged my shoulder to get him to let go, to no avail. He finally let go once the elevator doors closed and we were headed down to the lobby.
“I can probably get all my stuff packed in less than a half hour,” I said, looking up at Liam. “I just need the basics for the week.”
He shook his head. “No need. We’ll provide everything you need.”
I gawked at him. "What do you mean, no need? I need personal items. What about my toothbrush, my clothes, my stuff?" "The agency will provide you with all of that," Liam said. His voice brooked no argument, and I pursed my lips, wanting to argue. I decided against it when the elevator doors dinged, and that hand returned to my shoulder. Liam steered me past Stan, who stared at us in confusion. I gave him a weak wave as we stepped outside. There was a black van waiting at the bottom of the steps. Liam gestured for me to get in, pressing gently on my shoulder. I took one last look at my office building and with a sigh, climbed in.
There were three other men in the van- one driving, one in the passenger seat, and the other in the back seat. I scooted into the farthest back row, buckling myself in, and Liam sat in the back seat in front of me. He slid the door shut and nodded to the driver, who took off.
“So how far are we going?” I asked, looking around at all the agents. Were they even called agents? Should I call them Marshals? Liam was out of place in his jeans and button-down white shirt among all these guys in suits. Maybe he wasn’t the same rank as the other guys.
The marshal sitting next to Liam looked young, and he smiled kindly at me. "We're going to the Witness Protection Center in DC. At this time of day, we shouldn't hit any traffic. It should be about a three and a half to four-hour drive." Three and a half to four hours? I suddenly regretted all that coffee I’d had that morning. I doubted very much that this van made pit stops for bathroom breaks.
“Witness Protection?” I asked. “That’s what you meant when you said I need to go into hiding?”
Liam looked back at me. "You need to understand the seriousness of the situation. Jack Nelson is a sadistic murderer who doesn't have a moral compass. You were his lawyer, and he hoodwinked you into believing he was innocent, so you know what he's like. Nelson seduced a guard, who had extensive training for this exact situation, and then convinced that guard that he was innocent. The guard hatched a plan to get him free, and as soon as he was in the guard's apartment, he killed the guard to hide his tracks. Nelson is ruthless, Miss Jones, and he's out for revenge. His cellmate says that he often talked of getting revenge on the lawyer who didn't get him off. That's why you're in protective custody."
My nausea from earlier was back, plus I had to pee already. I tried to focus on these small things instead of the giant problem facing me. This was the worst possible way that I could be spending my Thanksgiving. I had a sudden sinking feeling. Thanksgiving. The only time of year that I saw my family. If I were really going into Witness Protection, how was my family going to know what was going on? Tomorrow would come, and I’d just not show up?
“Am I allowed to call my family and let them know what’s going on?” I asked.
The kind-faced young marshal glanced quickly at Liam, who nodded, then back to me. “Sure, but we have to confiscate your phone afterward.” He looked apologetically at me. I’d already figured they were going to take my cell phone, so I shrugged.
I unlocked my screen and went to my contacts, clicking on my sister’s name. I could rely on her to tell the rest of the family what was going on. If I called my mother, she would go into hysterics and somehow blame me for ruining Thanksgiving, and I just didn’t want to deal with that right now.
I held the receiver to my ear, listening to the line trilling. Anna picked up on the third ring. “Hey. Should I go with canned cranberry sauce tomorrow or make it from scratch?”
“Scratch, of course. It’s so much better,” I replied. “Listen, Anna-”
“Jason, let go of your brother’s toes!” Anna yelled. I smiled at the scuffle as she pulled my two nephews apart. “These boys are giving me gray hair,” she panted. “What’s up, little sister?” I stayed silent, not sure how to form the words. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I responded. “I won’t be making it tomorrow though. A thing popped up, and I have to go away for a little bit.”
“You can't make it to family Thanksgiving?" Anna blew out a long breath. "That must be a hell of a work thing." I didn't correct her assumption. My family knew I worked a lot, and no one would be that surprised that I'd decided to work instead of going to Thanksgiving.
“Yeah, it is. Will you make an excuse for me? Tell Mom it’s life or death,” I said jokingly. I didn’t want to make Anna anxious, so I didn’t let on how close to the truth that was.
“It had better be if you're making me break the news to Mom that you can't make it. Julian, stop biting your brother's leg!" she said, exasperated. "Okay, Kels, I have to deal with this situation. I hope your work thing works out. Love you."
“I love you, too, Anna," I said, my phone beeping when Anna hung up. I gave up my phone to the kind-faced agent, who zipped it into a giant storage bag and placed it into a briefcase. I hunkered down in my seat and looked at the trees passing as we drove down 95. I leaned my head against the window, looking at all the people in the cars we passed- the people who were going home to spend the holiday with their family without the threat of a serial killer looming over their heads. I envied them. I thought back to my phone call, and I hoped that wasn't the last time I got to speak to my sister.