“You mean…my father?” I asked in a muted voice, almost too scared to hear his response. I raised my eyes to his and he exhaled, shaking his head.
“No. I don’t think he’s a threat to you.”
The way he said it made me think he still considered my father a threat. I tore my gaze from his, not saying anything in response.
“Or should I be concerned?”
“No. My father would never hurt me.” He nodded his head. “Or anyone else, for that matter,” I added, my eyes fierce.
“Like the sixty-plus people he’s accused of killing all those years ago at the embassy in Liberia?” he asked. I could feel the burn of his eyes on me.
“How do you know about that?” I glanced at him, lowering my voice. “How do you know who I am?”
“I told you. It’s my job to know everything about you, including who you really are.”
“So you can know everything about me, but I’m not allowed to even know who you’re working for? You want to protect me from some unknown threat? Trust is a two-way street, Wyatt,” I sneered. “How do I know this isn’t some sort of sick, twisted joke?”
I spun on my heels, my irritation loud and clear.
“Did you know Tyler refused to go back to his house after you ran from him?” he shouted.
Stopping abruptly, I inhaled quickly, my eyes growing wide as I turned to look over my shoulder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I hissed.
“Yes, you do,” he said, taking slow steps toward me. He stood in front of me, his expression soft. “It was the last Sunday in March. It was foggy in the morning, but it cleared later so when you got into that cab, it was a picture perfect day. But not for Tyler. That was the day he stopped living.”
“How do you–”
“That was also the day he found out his own life could be in danger. You see, his brother realized Tyler knew where your father was. I’ve known Alexander for longer than I care to admit.”
I rolled my eyes at the mention of that name, my animosity toward Tyler’s brother obvious.
“You may not like some of his decisions, but his main concern has always been his family. Watching out for them. Protecting them.”
“So…what? He was an ass to me to make me want to walk out on his brother? To protect him from me?”
“No. Truth be told, until you get to know him, Alexander can be a bit of a cold person.”
“His behavior was normal?”
“Yes, ma’am. But your presence certainly took him by surprise. When it all went to hell, he needed to do something to regain control over the situation and protect his brother.”
“So he sent him away?”
He nodded. “Tyler didn’t want to go, but he reluctantly agreed after making Alexander promise you’d be safe from harm, as well.”
I absorbed what Wyatt was telling me. Being angry at Tyler for disappearing was so much easier when I thought he simply used me, then abandoned me, despite what his mother had told me. Now that I knew he was ordered to leave, that he did everything to ensure my safety, it softened my resentment.
“When will he be back? And why hasn’t he picked up the phone?”
Wyatt’s expression hardened once more. “It’s not my place to say, ma’am. However, you should know that Mr. Burnham considers your safety to be a top priority.”
“What does he know?” I asked, placing a hand on my stomach. An uneasy feeling washed over me at the prospect that Wyatt had been working for Alexander and was communicating with him about me.
“Only what is necessary to successfully complete the assignment, nothing more, ma’am. And nothing of a personal nature,” he said, raising his eyebrows.
I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Wyatt.”
“It’s not my place, ma’am.”
I nodded and fidgeted a bit, uncomfortable about the heavy silence. “Well,” I said, clearing the air. “I have an appointment I can’t miss.”
“Right,” he replied, escorting me up the block and back to the gas station. As if he knew precisely what he was looking for, he lowered himself to the ground and pulled a flashlight out of his pocket, shining it on the undercarriage of the SUV. “Just as I expected,” he commented, reaching underneath the car. After a few seconds, he raised himself.
“What is it?” I asked.
“GPS tracker,” he said. “Government-issue, too. Identical to the one I pulled off your convertible this morning. It looks like our friend stuck it beneath Mr. Weller’s car so he could track your whereabouts.”
“Government-issue?” I asked. I didn’t know what was worse…an unknown entity keeping tabs on me or a federal agent. “Why didn’t you remove it?”
“Because if I keep the tracker on, I can lead him straight to me and find out who he is and what he wants.”
“Do you think he’s looking for my father, too?”
“It would appear that way, wouldn’t it? Give me your keys. We’re switching cars,” he said, tossing his keys at me. I reached into my purse and handed him the keys to Brayden’s SUV. “You go do what you need to do, but I will check in every hour. Understand?”
A million thoughts circling in my head about who the man in the sedan could possibly be, I remained in a daze as Wyatt walked me to his car and helped me into the driver’s seat. With each day that went by, my life was spiraling more and more out of control, ghosts of my past resurfacing. I feared it would only be a matter of time before it all came crumbling down on top of me.
Mackenzie
THE SUN WAS SWELTERING when I stepped out of the car several hours later and made my way across the church parking lot, past the main building, and proceeded up the familiar path to the rectory. It had to be over a hundred degrees, the white material of my dress sticking to my skin.
As I approached, I tried to suppress my urge to turn around. I was apprehensive about seeing my father for the first time in over four months. So much had happened, I didn’t even know where to start. Between the drama with Charlie, Tyler’s deception, and the pregnancy, I had no idea how he was going to react. I prayed he would offer me some sort of guidance about what to do, like my mother would have if she were still alive.
I knocked on the door, fanning myself. It was nearly five in the evening, but the rays of the sun were strong and practically unbearable. The door opened and I felt a momentary relief when a rush of cool air escaped the house. I expected a nun to answer, as was normally the case. Instead, I stared into Father Slattery’s tired eyes.
“Good evening, Mackenzie.”
“Father Slattery,” I said, nodding.
He surveyed my appearance, his eyes settling on my stomach. Taking a timid step backwards, I pulled at the hem of my dress and stared at my feet. I didn’t know what to say. I thought about defending myself, but didn’t the church teach forgiveness, not judgment? I couldn’t really remember anymore.
“When’s the last time you went to confession, Mackenzie?” he asked in the same pacifying voice that calmed me when I was younger.
“It’s been a while, Father.” I shuffled my feet, staring off into the distance, feeling ashamed.
“I suspected as much. Please, come in.”
I shot my eyes to him. “But the mass for my mother… I need to–”
“Some things are more important and can’t be handled during a mass,” he interrupted, almost trying to tell me something with the way he stared at me, his gaze narrowed. “Please, Mackenzie. Come in.” For the first time in nearly fifteen years, I cautiously stepped foot in the rectory.
Being back here made my skin crawl with the memories I had struggled to forget over the years. It looked just as it did during the period of time my mother and I lived in a cramped room. Removed from the only life I had known. Forced into hiding. And why? I still had no definitive answers, only speculation.