Liam's Witness Protection. Amelia Autin
in less than five minutes.
Now, as she watched Liam driving at a steady pace—the speedometer just barely nudging the legal limit—she considered asking him the questions that had been percolating in her mind since his sudden announcement right after receiving the phone call. Who called you? Was it Alec? He’s a witness too, so is he safe? And Angelina. What about my cousin?
But she wasn’t in the habit of asking too many questions. When you started asking questions, people had the unfortunate response of thinking that gave them the right to ask questions in return. And Cate didn’t answer questions. Not as a general rule. The less people knew about her, the less chance there was that Vishenko’s men would find her.
Alec had asked questions. So had the FBI and the men from the US Attorney’s Office. She’d had no choice but to answer those questions. And she would answer any and all questions put to her in court. Honestly. But for some reason she didn’t want Liam asking her questions. Especially about her past—she didn’t want him to know. Anything.
And why is that? a little voice inside her head asked. The answer was one she didn’t want to acknowledge. You don’t want him to think badly of you. But you don’t want him to think of you as a victim, either. You just want him to think of you as a woman. A woman he’s attracted to. Admit it.
“You’re awfully quiet over there,” Liam said. “You okay?”
“Fine. I’m just thinking.”
“Worried about this move?”
She shook her head, but realized his eyes were on the road and he couldn’t see it. “No. Not really. I’m used to it.” I’m used to moving from place to place, she thought. Whenever I got the feeling Vishenko’s men might be close, I always moved on. Why do you think I’m still alive? But she didn’t say any of this to Liam.
The long silence that followed was broken when Liam said, “Cody—my brother-in-law—said the FBI knows about the safe house we were just at. That might not mean anything, but Cody’s a damn good poker player. First rule of thumb—never give away anything, especially an edge. Not if you don’t have to.”
“‘Need to know,’” she said. “I understand.”
“Exactly.”
“So where are we going now?” she asked.
Liam hesitated.
“I do have a need to know,” she said softly, but putting determination behind it. “It’s my life—not only do I need to know, I have the right to know.”
“Okay, yeah,” he agreed finally. “The agency has another safe house in Fayetteville, North Carolina. Cody and his boss think we’ll be safer there than at the one in Fairfax.”
“Why?”
He told her. Flat out. Not trying to sugarcoat anything. When he was done she said, “Thank you for being honest with me.” She considered everything he’d said, then asked, “So Vishenko has the FBI infiltrated?”
Liam shook his head. “We don’t know that. It’s only one of several possibilities they’re considering. But in the meantime, the agency doesn’t want to take any chances. Not with you.”
Cate thought of something. “Alec is a witness, like me. And Angelina. Are they being guarded, too?”
She could tell her question bothered Liam somehow—it wasn’t anything he said, just a feeling she got. Is he worried about his brother’s safety? she wondered. As I am?
“Don’t worry. The agency has them in protective custody,” he said curtly. Then he asked, “What do you mean Angelina’s a witness, too?”
“Not a witness in this case—the conspiracy. But she would be a witness against Vishenko if he’s extradited to Zakhar.”
He glanced at her for a second, as if puzzled, then shifted his attention back to the road. “I don’t get it.”
“For the attempted assassination of the crown prince,” she explained patiently. “Don’t you know?” She added a few specifics regarding the assassination attempt in St. Anne’s Cathedral in Drago during Crown Prince Raoul’s christening ceremony the year before, an assassination attempt foiled by her cousin, Angelina and Liam’s brother. “If Vishenko gets off in this trial, he still has to face justice in Zakhar. Alec told me the extradition paperwork has already been processed on Zakhar’s end. They’re only waiting for the outcome of the conspiracy trial here before pressuring the State Department to turn Vishenko over to them for Zakharian justice.”
“Alec didn’t mention it.” And there was an edge to Liam’s voice that said he was upset he’d been kept in the dark.
Cate put a hand out to touch his arm in commiseration, then drew it back. Instead, she said, “At first I asked Alec why I needed to testify. Why I needed to risk my life to put Vishenko behind bars in the US when he will be tried in Zakhar for what he nearly did to the crown prince. One of the shooters has already confessed, naming Vishenko as the man behind the attempt. The man who supplied the money.” She breathed deeply. “But Alec made me see it is not just Vishenko, although he is key. All the men in the conspiracy must face justice—the Zakharians who lured the trafficked women and the men from the US embassy who provided the false visas are just as guilty as the men from the Bratva. We cannot bring them down unless Vishenko goes down.”
Cate was silent for a moment. “Whenever I’m afraid—and I’m often afraid—I remind myself that even if Vishenko escapes justice here he will be tried in Zakhar. And the courts in Zakhar are much quicker than they are in the US. Justice is swift. Punishment harsh.” Her voice dropped a notch. “Even if he kills me he will not escape. And that is a very comforting thought.”
“He’s not going to kill you,” Liam asserted. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
Warmth from out of nowhere filled Cate at Liam’s words. Not so much the words themselves as the tone of voice in which they were uttered. Coolly confident in his own abilities. Determined. And she knew he meant it. She was safe in his hands, as safe as it was humanly possible to be...which was a tremendously relieving feeling.
* * *
They arrived at the new safe house before midnight. As he’d done at the first safe house, Liam didn’t pull into the driveway, walk up to the front door and knock. He reconnoitered first, driving past the house and around the block slowly, then circling back again. It was a little thing, but it emphasized to Cate he wasn’t a novice at this. And that extra caution only added to her feeling of safety. Vishenko might still succeed in killing her—anything was possible—but Liam wouldn’t make it easy for him.
Just as before, Liam parked on the street a few houses away, and Cate knew he didn’t want to announce to anyone who might spot the SUV or who might have been following them which house they were actually in. Not that they’d been followed—Liam had made sure of that, too, long before they’d arrived at the safe house. Another little detail.
So many details, Cate thought. Between the US Marshals who’d guarded her before and Liam now, she realized just how much she hadn’t done to safeguard herself those six years on the run. Vishenko’s men hadn’t found her, so she must have done something right. But some of that must have been luck. Blind luck.
Liam handed Cate’s suitcase to her and grabbed his duffel bag with his left hand. He guided her down the sidewalk toward the safe house without actually touching her, his right hand tucked inside his jacket. And Cate knew why. He’d killed for her before. He would again, if necessary. And somehow, instead of making her afraid of that ruthless side of him the way she feared Vishenko, the thought helped her breathe easier.
* * *
It was after two in the morning, and Liam still couldn’t sleep. He was exhausted—more than exhausted after a long, adrenaline-packed day capped by a five-hour drive