False Security (37 page)

Rachel smiled
before she was fully awake. Another night had come and gone without dreaming,
the fourth night in a row. She never wanted to dream again, and prayed all of
her nightmares were gone for good.

Aware of Mark holding her hand,
she opened her eyes. The smile remained despite her fear for him. He should
have left the second both the police and FBI released him from questioning, yet
he kept coming back. Didn’t he understand the danger he was in? Was he not aware
that every second he spent with her, he put himself at risk?

Of course Mark knew. He knew and
he understood, just as Danielle and Jonathan both had. The risks hadn’t stopped
either of them from being a part of her life, and they were both gone.

She’d had ample time to mourn
Jonathan in the three years since his murder, but the familiar pain that
accompanied thoughts of Danielle pierced Rachel’s heart. She couldn’t keep
Danielle safe, and even with the constant presence of the FBI, there were no
guarantees of Mark’s safety. Though she wanted him to run far away from her so
he would be out of Donovan’s crosshairs, she couldn’t deny she loved knowing he
was there with her. If he chose to stay, she wasn’t about to push him out of
her life.

Mark smiled at her and brushed
her hair away from her forehead. “Are you feeling better?” he asked, his voice
filled with strain and exhaustion.

“Much better,” she said. “I’m
ready to get out of this place for good.”

“Not quite yet,” he said. “Maybe
a couple more days, and then we’ll go home.” He gestured toward her almost full
tray of cold breakfast food. “We’ll need to fatten you back up when we get you
there, since you seem to have labeled everything they serve you as inedible.”

Rachel laughed. “I could
definitely use some of your cooking about now,” she said. She appreciated that
he still tried to cheer her up every day. In those moments, he looked like
ordinary Mark, but no amount of showering, shaving, or scrubbing could erase
the haggard edge in his eyes, and the jaded gleam they projected. His eyes
reflected everything she couldn’t see, the things that caused her heart to
break.

“Danielle’s memorial service is
on Tuesday morning,” he said. “We shouldn’t have any problems making it back to
Kansas in time.”

“Thank you for taking care of
the arrangements for me,” she said. Minutes passed as they sat in silence.
There were so many subjects they avoided over the past few days. After her
condition stabilized, she bared her soul to the psychologist with Mark in the
room. He provided the safety net of support that she needed to open up about
her life.

Yet as soon as the buffer of the
psychologist disappeared, they stopped talking about what happened. There were
a lot of other things to keep their minds busy, and it was easy to avoid what
needed to be said.

The events at the estate gnawed
at her insides, and Rachel could no longer internalize her thoughts and
emotions. There was one topic they mutually avoided from the start. “Mark,” she
said, “I know you don’t want to talk about it.”

“We agreed not to discuss it.”

“I don’t care. I have to tell
you. Those things I said to you at the estate weren’t true. I didn’t mean it
when I said I didn’t love you and that I wanted to stay there.”

“I know, Rachel,” he said. “I
don’t want you to feel like you have to explain yourself.”

“But I do have to explain
myself. It killed me, and it still does now, but I had to say all those
horrible things to you. I was scared if I didn’t, he would know. If he found
out how important you were to me, I don’t know what he would have done to you.
And I just...just couldn’t...” Her eyes stung and she blinked away the forming
tears. The words flowed from her lips unchecked. “I couldn’t go through what he
did to me before. I can’t do that again and—”

Mark jumped up from his chair
and sat on the bed, facing her. “Rachel, stop, please.” He placed his hand over
hers and caressed her skin. “Don’t think about that now. You’re safe. He can’t
hurt you.” He drew her into his arms and held her until her tears stopped.

She pulled away from him and
wiped her face with her fingers. Shame crept over her cheeks. She had broken
down in front of him so much in the past few days, and she hated herself for
burdening him. “I’m sorry, Mark. I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t apologize, Rach. You
don’t ever have to apologize for anything ever again. I understand why you said
what you did, and I don’t want you to worry about it anymore. You only did what
you thought was necessary to help us both.”

Though he fell silent, she could
tell there was more he wanted to say, more he wanted to know. Over the past few
days, he always stopped speaking before the question left his tongue, but she
knew what he was thinking.

She moistened her lips and
tucked her hair behind her ear with a shaky hand. “I know you think I should
have killed Donovan, but I can’t kill anyone, no matter who it is. That’s not
who I am now and I never want to be that person again.”

“I never asked you to be, but I
can still wish he was dead.”

She looked away, knowing that if
it was up to Mark, they would skip an investigation and trial, and go straight
for the death penalty. Rachel changed the subject. “The prosecutor is coming by
this afternoon.”

“He called me in the middle of
the night.” His hand tightened around her hand and he locked his eyes on hers.
“Rachel, they’re handing everything over to the FBI.”

Rachel’s brow furrowed. “I
thought Paul was talking to the prosecutor and they were moving forward with
charges.”

Mark paused, and his expression
became solemn. “Apparently Paul changed his mind. The prosecutor said he’s
pleading guilty to Jonathan’s murder, but he’s not talking about King at all.”

The news unnerved her. Though
she knew Paul had his reasons, the prosecutor said that if he didn’t testify
against Donovan, they wouldn’t afford him any leniency on Jonathan’s murder.
Paul would spend the rest of his life behind bars.

“The only thing they have now is
you, but the FBI wants both King and Graham Wilkes. Once they have all the
evidence, they’ll talk about throwing in what happened to you as well.”

Rachel knew what he trying to
tell her. “They let him go?”

“He was released right after
midnight,” Mark said. “But the FBI will be watching him and us at all times.
They won’t let him get near either one of us.”

Despite having FBI protection to
help keep them both safe, Rachel’s flesh turned cold. The knowledge of
Donovan’s freedom made her anxiety climb. Though Donovan’s methodical, logical
side would keep him in check and wouldn’t allow him to try something while the
FBI was investigating him, unless he was in prison, they weren’t safe. “What
happened to the kidnapping charges?”

“He has witnesses. Twelve
people, including Graham Wilkes, say he was in a meeting in Los Angeles that
evening.”

She placed her hand over her
mouth. With Donovan running around and his connections to Wilkes, they may
never be safe no matter how much protection the FBI provided. The feds had to
get him on something so he would be locked away. “I take it they haven’t found
Danielle yet,” Rachel said.

“Rach, the police back home
don’t believe there was a murder. Your house is clean. No bloodstains,
fingerprints, nothing. Not even evidence of bleach being used to clean up.
Agent Jackson believes me, but he had techs go over the house twice and
couldn’t find any evidence. With no body and no evidence, there’s nothing he
can do. I don’t know how King did it, but it makes me doubt what I saw.”

Rachel grimaced. “Graham Wilkes,
that’s how he did it. Between him and Donovan, anything can be accomplished.
I’m sure they had everything planned out well in advance. They probably
replaced the carpeting and all of the furniture to be sure no evidence was left
behind.” She hesitated, unsure how Mark would react to her next statement. “I
want to see Paul.”

“I know you do,” he said, “but I
don’t know if they will let you right now. We can ask the prosecutor this
afternoon. As far as everything else goes, the FBI is on our side, so don’t
dwell on it.”

Rachel had tried for days not to
dwell on it, to no avail.

Mark lifted her chin. “Rachel,
ever since I’ve known you he’s been there in the back of your mind. You were
always wondering where he was and if he knew where you were and if he was going
to find you. He’s controlled your thoughts, your actions, your feelings. I want
to be with you and know it’s just you and me.”

The accuracy of his words
frightened her and she tried to shut them out of her mind. They were too much
of a reminder that Mark deserved better. She pulled her hands into her lap and
scratched at the bandage around her IV. “I know the FBI will do everything they
can, but I’m still afraid.”

“Don’t be afraid.” Mark put his
hands over hers. “You don’t have to do this alone anymore, Rachel. I’ll be with
you every second, doing everything I can to make it easy for you. We’re going
home in a few days, and you and I are going to live a normal life. We’ll ignore
the FBI watching us and we’ll forget about the bruises and broken bones. Maybe
together we can make this nightmare end.”

Rachel met his eyes. The
determination in his voice told her he meant every word he said. She relaxed a
bit, knowing that in his arms, she would finally find sanctuary.

“Agent Jackson also called last
night,” Mark said.

Agent Eli Jackson had taken a
personal interest in their case, and had gone above and beyond his duties as an
FBI agent, swearing to them both that he would keep them safe and find a way to
put Donovan in prison for life. Every time she spoke to him, Rachel felt a
little better about their situation.

“What did he call about?” Rachel
asked.

“He spoke to Cory Thomas, and
the family won’t accept your offer to give the money back.”

“No, he has to convince them,”
she said. The one thing she wanted out of the whole ordeal was to return the
remaining money to Jonathan’s family where it belonged. “Cory has to take it. I
never felt right about having it in the first place.”

“Cory refuses to take it. He
considers it one of Jonathan’s last wishes. But he does want to come to the
hospital tomorrow so he can meet you. He’s driving down in the morning.”

Rachel knew a visit from Cory
could prove too much for Mark. He already struggled with Jonathan’s role in her
escape from the estate three years ago. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she
said. “That might be difficult for you and—”

“Rachel, you don’t have to
protect me,” he said. “Jonathan did nothing but try to help you. Honestly,
I...” He took a deep breath. “I wish I could thank him for that. As for Cory,
he wants closure.”

“We all want that,” Rachel said.

“It’s a good idea for him to
come, for all of us. I’m sure the psychologist will agree. Cory deserves to
hear directly from you how much Jonathan helped, and I think you need to meet
him so you’ll stop blaming yourself for Jonathan’s death. Agent Jackson also
said that as far as the money goes, you don’t have to worry about the IRS
knocking on your door,” Mark said. “Apparently Cory is influential about these
things.”

“Mark, thank you for taking care
of all of this. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“I’m just relaying the
messages,” Mark said. He snapped his fingers. “I almost forgot. I brought you
something.” Mark picked up a gift bag from the floor and set it on his lap.

Rachel eyed the bag
suspiciously. “What is that?”

“A couple of little things Agent
Jackson helped me get for you.” With a large smile, he reached into the bag and
pulled out a small, white box.

Rachel accepted the box and
lifted the lid. Inside was a rectangular paper the size of a business card. She
stared at the card and read it several times before comprehending what it was.
She looked up at Mark. “It’s a social security card,” she said.

“Not any social security card.
That’s your social security card.”

She looked back at the card. The
name she was given at birth, Rachel Renee Pettis, was printed in the middle of
the card in all uppercase letters, along with a social security number above
it. “I don’t know what to say,” she said.

“You might not like it much once
you have to start paying taxes like the rest of us,” Mark said. “Agent Jackson
is also getting your birth certificate. When we get home, one of our first
trips will be to the DMV so you can get a real driver’s license. There’s no
need to change names anymore, no need to pretend you’re someone else. You have
your own identity now.”

Rachel wiped the tears from her
eyes before they got too far down her face. To most, it was a card to number
them among the masses. For Rachel, it was a return to the world. The card made
her a real person, not a gust of wind blowing about and disappearing without
anyone noticing. She wished Danielle was here to see it. “You have no idea what
this means to me,” she said.

“There’s one more thing,” he
said, and handed her the bag.

She reached underneath the
tissue paper and pulled out a framed photograph. Behind the glass was an
engagement announcement from an old newspaper. She didn’t need to read the
words underneath the photograph box to know who the people in the picture were.

“You told me you didn’t remember
what your parents look like.” He pointed to the picture. “I know it’s only a
newspaper clipping, but it was all we could find.”

Rachel touched the glass over
the couple locking hands in front of an oak tree. Her dad could have been
Paul’s twin, only smaller in stature. Paul told her years ago that she looked
like her mother, and he was right. Other than her father’s eyes, her mother had
passed on the rest of the genes to Rachel. They shared the same face and hair,
the same crooked smile.