The Innocent Witness (13 page)

“I'm praying so.”

“How can you still believe that God cares after all that's happened?”

A crease formed between her delicate eyebrows. “I can't let circumstances dictate my faith in God.”

Her conviction in the face of such uncertainty and peril baffled and amazed him. And stirred something deep inside of him, making him want to believe that God would come through for them.

He took half the contents of the file folder and shoved them into her hand. “This way, they have to have both of us if they want the complete file.”

She held the papers against her chest, the stark white a contrast to the bright red shirt she wore. He spun her around again and gave her a gentle push. Visibly squaring her shoulders, she took off, darting through the
crowds toward the tour group as the mass of tourists started to move away from the monument.

Pride filled Anthony's chest. All his preconceived notions of the pretentious beauty queen had long since bitten the dust. In their place was respect for her strength of character and courage in the face of hardship, and affection for her indomitable spirit and quick intelligence.

If he weren't careful he'd find himself falling in love with her. And that was something he could not allow. There was an unwritten rule among those who protected others:
you do not fall in love with your protectee!

He forced himself to move, to turn away and briskly head in the opposite direction.

Spotting Joe and Barb off to the side near one of the many plaques that gave insight into the monument's history, Anthony veered closer, then purposefully let the file folder fall. The remaining papers scattered. Joe and Barb immediately bent to help pick up the mess.

“What gives?” Joe asked.

“Mole. Head to the Smithsonian Castle.”

He took the pages Joe and Barb had collected with a nod of thanks and hurried away. The keys to Barb's Volvo jingled in his pocket. Deciding to take the car, he jogged for the parking lot where they'd left the vehicle.

“Hey! Carlucci! Stop!”

Anthony ignored the shouted command.

The sound of running feet sent his heart rate into overdrive.

Mikey's life rested on ditching the security Anthony had arranged.

Those guys were good. The best, actually.

He hoped he could make it. If he didn't, he'd fail all over again.

S
treetlamps clicked off as the sun rose higher in the early-morning sky. Trying to control her racing pulse, Viv shuffled along with the tour group crossing Fourteenth Street and entered the National Mall park. Her half of the file was still pressed against her chest like a shield. According to Anthony, these papers would keep her alive. But every time someone bumped or jostled into her, she flinched, half expecting the bad guys to grab her.

Please, Lord, give me strength.

She had to be strong. For Mikey. For Anthony.

Adjusting her grip on the papers, she followed the group along the dirt track rimming the sparse lawn of the mall where tents and vendors were setting up in preparation for tomorrow's Fourth of July celebration.

The tour guide pointed to the left, introducing the group to the first of the Smithsonian museums across the street from the park. Viv stayed smack dab in the middle of the crowd until they were directly in front of the Smithsonian's castle, then she peeled away as discreetly as she could.

The red sandstone landmark indeed resembled a
twelfth-century castle. She'd always liked coming here before. She'd brought Mikey once last summer. He'd been fascinated with the tactile map of all the Washington monuments and the “touch screen” programs in various languages. Her stomach knotted. Would she have a chance to bring Mikey back here?

With concerted effort she pushed her fear to the far recesses of her mind and hustled across Jefferson Drive. She hurried up the front steps to the entrance. The doors were locked. The museum wouldn't open for another couple of hours.

The entryway left her exposed. Unease trickled through her veins. She looked around, hoping to find some inconspicuous place to wait for Anthony. From her left, the shadows shifted and a man materialized from behind one of the entrance's arched pillars.

The flight response jolted through her system. She spun around intending to retreat back the way she'd come when a strong hand closed over her wrist, stopping her forward progress with an abrupt jerk. She drew in a breath to scream.

“Viv, it's me.”

Instantly, she recognized Anthony's voice. Relief sluiced through her body, ridding her of the sudden panic.

But not the fear.

Fear seemed to have taken up permanent residence within her.

She put a hand over her racing heart. “How did you get here so fast?”

“I drove the Volvo. It's parked on the street. I called
Joe and let him know where to find it,” he answered, drawing her close. “Didn't mean to scare you.”

She leaned against him, needing his solid strength. She was so grateful she didn't have to go through this alone. “Have they called?”

“No. We should wait out on the sidewalk where we can be seen.”

Though reluctant to leave the shelter of his arms, she nodded and stepped away. She trusted him to know what was best for her and Mikey. Anthony grasped her hand. She held on tight as they descended the front stairs to the sidewalk. Almost immediately, the cell phone in Anthony's jacket pocket trilled.

Dropping her hand, he fished the phone out and answered. “Yes.”

As he listened, he spun around so that he was facing east. He seemed to be searching for something. Or maybe it was just her imagination and hopeful thinking. She wanted to hold her son, to wrap her arms around him and make him feel as secure as Anthony had made her feel moments ago.

At the far end of the park, sunlight glinted off the U.S. Capitol building. Anxiousness made her antsy. If only she could hear what was being said, too! She bounced on the balls of her feet.

The second Anthony ended the call, she pounced. “Where's my son? Is he still okay? Where did they take him?”

He held up a hand and she relented. “He's down the street in a parked SUV. We're to give the file to the driver in exchange for Mikey.”

She shoved her half of the papers she held at his
chest. “Then let's go.” She took a step but Anthony caught her by the waist.

“Wait. It could be a trap.”

Impatience pounded in her veins. She struggled free. “I don't care. I want my son.”

Placing a strong hand on one of her shoulders, he forced her to face him. “You do exactly as I say when I say it. Any hesitation could cost you or Mikey your lives. Got it?”

“Yes.” Frustration welled up inside of her, but she knew he was right. If not for her impatience and stubbornness before, they'd still have Mikey with them. “In spades.”

He released her with a nod and put the file inside his coat before placing his arm around her waist. At any other time, she'd relish the gesture. Even hope that his closeness meant he cared for her with romantic intent. But she knew romance wasn't motivating his touch. He wanted to keep her close to protect her, as he'd been
hired
to do.

He urged her to walk at a brisk pace. Viv would have preferred to run, anything to reach Mikey faster, but she knew they couldn't draw any more attention to themselves. When they reached the corner of Jefferson Drive and Fourth Street, Anthony steered her across the road and stopped her five feet away from a big, black SUV.

The same sort of SUV the two FBI agents, Jones and Thompson, had put her and Mikey in after Steven's death. She shuddered at the memory.

The driver's-side door opened and a man slid out. He was tall, with a closely shaved head and big muscles beneath a black T-shirt. He looked like some covert
operative from a movie. Without a word, he opened the back passenger door.

Mikey lay across the backseat.

Still and quiet.

Viv's heart lurched and took her body with it. She would make every single one of them pay.

Anthony snagged her around the waist and held her tight, her back against his unyielding chest, as a mother's fury raged within her. She pushed at his arm, wanting to go to her son.

The man shut the door. “The file?”

With one arm snaked around Viv's waist holding her in place, Anthony handed over the folder. “This ends it, right?”

“This is all of it?”

Anthony nodded.

The man flipped the file open and perused the content. “How do we know you didn't make a copy?”

“You don't. Call it insurance,” Anthony shot back.

Snapping the folder shut, the man turned on his heel and headed down the street in the opposite direction.

Not able to stand another moment away from her son, Viv clawed at Anthony's arm. “Let go.”

He relented. She broke free and rushed to the vehicle. She yanked open the door and scrambled onto the seat next to Mikey. She checked his pulse and felt a strong beat beneath her fingertips. “Thank You, Jesus.”

Gathering him in her arms, she smoothed a hand over his cheek. He felt cool to her touch. “Mikey, oh, honey. Wake up!”

Anthony slid into the driver's seat. He reached for the keys in the ignition. He paused. Swiftly, he pulled
his hand away and twisted on the seat to look back at her. The expression of sheer terror on his face shot her fear meter through the roof.

“Get out! Get out now!”

She didn't hesitate. She yanked on the door handle and flung the door wide as she scuttled off the seat, landing on her feet. She reached in to pull Mikey out. He awakened with a jerk and batted at her hands. Anthony joined her and together they managed to get a firm grasp on him and drag him out of the vehicle.

Anthony scooped Mikey up. “Run! Go, go!”

They'd barely put two car lengths between them and the SUV before an explosion ripped through the air behind them. Nearby pedestrians screamed.

The concussion drove Viv to her hands and knees. She cried out at the bone-jarring impact. Her teeth snapped together, sending waves of pain through her head. Debris pelted her in a stinging rain and heat singed her skin. Her breath caught and held in her chest. The ringing in her ears muted the cacophony of noise from car alarms disturbed by the blast and the shouts from pedestrians. Acrid smoke filled the air and burned her lungs.

Frantic, she blinked back tears, her gaze wildly searching for Mikey and Anthony.

She found them a few feet away. She breathed out a moan of relief and pain. Anthony's still body pinned a screaming, struggling Mikey to the ground. He seemed unscathed but scared as he flailed unsuccessfully, trying to get himself out from beneath the big body on top of him.

Compelled by an urgency she didn't understand, she
crawled on all fours to Anthony's side. “It's okay, baby. I'm here,” she murmured to Mikey to calm him as she touched Anthony's cheek.

Blood from a gash on his forehead marred his handsome face. She laid her fingers against the side of his neck. She could barely detect a pulse. But it was there.

“Anthony! Wake up,” she uttered low in her throat as she tried to roll him off her son.

Feet pounded on the sidewalk, jerking her attention toward the people rushing up. She blinked with relief. Joe and Barb skidded to a halt beside her. Joe immediately eased Anthony off Mikey and rolled him onto his back.

Seeing Barb working to calm Mikey freed Viv to put her energy into her concern for Anthony. She sent up a silent plea.
Lord, please, let him be all right.

“Did he rag doll?” he asked in a low, grim tone.

“What? I have no idea what that means.”

“Did the blast throw him through the air with his arms, legs, neck going every which way like a rag doll before he hit the ground?”

Neck?
Joe was worried Anthony had a broken neck. Viv pushed down the panic rising up her own neck and answered, “I don't think so. No. No, he still had Mikey in his arms.”

“Okay. Outstanding.” Joe checked his brother's pulse. “Thready.”

Not sure if that was good or not, Viv placed her hand over Anthony's. “What can I do to help?”

“We've got to get out of here.” Joe got behind Anthony and slipped his arms beneath his. “We found the Volvo. It's right here.”

“Shouldn't we stay and tell the authorities what's happening?” Barb asked.

Joe shook his head and jerked an elbow toward the twisted, smoldering bumper dangling from the lower branches of a nearby cherry tree. “Not sure who to trust at this point. We need to get somewhere safe to regroup.”

The information sank to the pit of Viv's stomach like a chunk of SUV. Corruption of any kind was horrible but when it was within the very framework of those who were supposed to be trustworthy it sickened her. “We need to take your brother to the hospital. We can ‘regroup' there.”

Concern flashed in Joe's eyes. “You're right.” Hoisting Anthony up, he said to Viv, “Get his feet.”

She grabbed Anthony by the ankles. He moaned as they lifted him off the ground. Viv took that as a good sign even though his eyes stayed closed. Staggering under his weight, she helped carry him to the Volvo which Joe had double-parked a few feet away.

They placed him in the front seat and buckled him in, Viv slid onto the backseat beside Barb and Mikey. Just as the street filled with emergency vehicles, Joe hit the gas, made a U-turn and headed away from the scene of the burning SUV.

Ten minutes later, Joe parked in the emergency bay of Howard University Hospital. The red letters over the door were lit up. Sunlight reflected off the many rectangular windows of the brick building. A uniformed guard sauntered over as Joe climbed out.

“You can't park here,” the guard said.

“I'll move it,” Joe barked. “But first I've got to get my brother inside.”

Viv jumped out and ran around to the front passenger side to help Joe with Anthony.

The guard waved a white-garbed orderly over. The orderly, a young man with round glasses that reminded Viv of a cartoon character, took one look at Anthony and hurried away. He returned moments later with another attendant and a gurney. Viv moved out of the way so the hospital personnel could move Anthony from the car to the gurney.

Anthony's eyelids fluttered then opened as the orderly secured him to the bed.

Tears of relief clogged Viv's throat. She smoothed a hand over Anthony's cheek, the stubble of his beard gently scratching her palm.

Confusion filled his dark eyes; a flash of panic flared them wide. “Mikey?”

Thankful he was awake and lucid, she sought to reassure him. “He's fine. You protected him from the explosion.”

Relief softened his gaze. “Good to know.” He frowned. “Where are we?”

“Hospital,” Viv answered. “You took a nasty hit to your head.”

His mouth quirked. “I've got a hard head.”

She felt the tug of an answering smile. “Yes, you do. But you still need to be checked by a doctor.”

He nodded and closed his eyes again. She was falling for him. Falling hard. There was so much about Anthony Carlucci that drew her in. His honor, his integrity. The way he made her feel beautiful on the inside as well
as the outside without any strings attached. The way he risked his life for her and Mikey.

Logic told her these feelings were born of the stress and intensity of coming so close to dying. More than once. But her heart didn't agree. Her heart insisted the tender emotions bubbling deep inside were real and true and lasting. The conflict going on inside stymied her.

“Viv,” Anthony said, his voice wobbly.

She took his hand. “I'll be right here. You let them take care of you.”

He gave her hand a squeeze before his gaze shot to his brother. “Joe, keep them safe.”

Viv could see that Joe wanted to go with his brother. But then his expression set in determined lines. “Will do.”

The orderly wheeled Anthony away and disappeared inside the emergency-room doors.

Mikey moved to stand in front of Viv. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

Barb put an arm around Viv's shoulders. “He'll be fine. They'll stitch him up and he'll be good as new.”

“I know.” But seeing him laid low twisted her up inside. The memory of seeing the scar from the bullet that had ripped through his flesh to kill another slammed through her mind. It was his job to take risks, to put himself in danger for others. For her and Mikey.