Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1 (41 page)

She blinked. The woman was still there,
reading a magazine now.

Brenda Mason looked up. She set the magazine
down and came over. She seemed nice enough when she smiled. “Hi,
honey.”

John had called her that.

Where was John?

Andra couldn’t keep her eyes open.

“You’re drifting in and out.” Soft fingers
squeezed Andra’s hand. “But you’re safe. Everything is fine.”

Andra tried to breathe, but her chest felt
like some creeper from a bad horror movie had done a number on her.
She tried to speak, but all that came out was, “John.”

“He went back to Sanctuary.”

He wasn’t here?

“I’m sorry, honey.”

Andra squeezed her eyes shut and something
warm tickled her face. Softness—a tissue—wiped it away. John hadn’t
come? He said he would, but he’d left her here and sent his mother.
It made no sense at all.

He’d said he wanted to stay with her and make
sure she was okay. Andra wanted him there with her so she could cry
and scream and yell at him for letting her down when she’d actually
trusted his words. Her head swam. Maybe there was some other
explanation. Some other reason he’d been called away.

Or maybe she was just kidding herself.

Andra was supposed to be above that. She’d
kept her heart separated from any kind of romantic attachment for
so long, she couldn’t believe how massively she had failed. Had she
learned anything? Love wasn’t for her. Relationships, other than
her friendships with Hal and Nadia Marie, weren’t for her either
and she needed to remember that.

Especially when it hurt this much to be
wrong.

**

John watched Pat, who sat on Nate’s lap on a
bench both of them laughing.

John said, “We need to find a way they can
see each other. Pat needs his uncles.”

Grant shifted beside him. “Clearly you need
us, too.”

John folded his arms. “I had it handled.”

“Seems to me like Hal subdued Elma and Nadia
Marie rescued Pat before you even got there. Good people.”

The reality was they were friends of Andra’s
who would risk their lives for his son. Those were the best kind of
people. That they loved Andra said a great deal about her, too.
Namely, she was the kind of woman who inspired loyalty in others.
She had friends who cared about the safety of a child enough to
intervene.

Warmth swelled in his chest. “I really think
we’ll be okay here.”

Grant rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe I
should deputize Bolton, just to be on the safe side.”

John glared. He didn’t need Grant
interfering, at least not more than just being his boss. He looked
around. “Where did Ben disappear to?”

“No idea.” Grant looked down Main Street.
“Nice place, isn’t it?”

“Right.” John remembered. “You’ve never been
here.”

“Could use some fixing up, though.”

“You said that at the hearing.” John
chuckled. “Good luck getting approval to turn into actual
money.”

“I don’t know.” Grant grinned. “You could
probably ask the president to work that out. I hear you have his
number.”

“And his wife and daughter.”

Grant’s eyes went wide.

John sputtered, “That didn’t come out
right.”

“I should hope not.” Grant clapped him on the
back.

John blew out a breath. Matthias had driven
Hal and Nadia Marie over to the medical center to get checked out
and to check on Aaron. They’d given Bolton and Elma a ride to the
sheriff’s office first, where she was being detained until the
marshals’ chopper arrived. All in a day’s work. Or a week,
whatever.

“So you’re coming with?”

John looked at his brother. “Yeah, I need to
get to Andra. Nate is going to stay with Pat. I don’t want him on
the helicopter with Elma, anyway.”

“I’ll get the report written up and convince
the U.S. Attorney’s office to drop the charges against Andra for
Betty Collins’ murder. I’ll need a report from you before I can
completely clear her. There will be a lot of mess to sort through,
but she’ll be back with you before you know it.”

“Good.” John looked around, exhaling a big
breath. His chest had been constricted for a long time. Longer than
the last week, for sure. In fact, it might have been the first full
breath he’d taken in years. It felt good.

“So you’re staying?”

“I have to talk it over with Pat, but yeah.”
He looked his brother. “We’re staying.”

**

The mayor slumped in the chair, blood
dripping from his chin.

Ben had seen Andra’s face, the days old
bruises and her swollen eye. The boot print she’d had on her
abdomen. The mayor coughed, expelling more blood onto his white
dress shirt.

Ben Mason grabbed the mayor’s hair and pulled
his face up so he could look into the man’s eyes. “You don’t mess
with my family.”

Then he took the rag and wiped off his
hands.

Now they were even.

When Andra awoke, Brenda was gone. The man
who had replaced her sat in the same chair, wearing a crumpled suit
and loosened tie. The U.S. attorney looked frazzled from being
overworked and underappreciated. But the addition of two marshals
with their jackets and guns providing an armed guard made the
impression a whole lot more formidable. They both stood either side
of the door, feet planted and arms crossed.

Andra told them all about the helicopter
ride, the men who’d killed the pilots, the barn and how she’d
killed Palmer with a pen.

The U.S. attorney looked up from his laptop,
eyes wide. One of the marshals snorted. Andra looked over but he’d
squashed the humor from his face.

Here it was.

She’d killed a man. Now it was time to accept
the consequences. They would probably cuff her and then leave a
guard at the door. The nurses would have to be escorted in and out.
The care she had received so far would turn to fear and detached
professionalism. As soon as the doctor cleared Andra to leave, she
would be escorted straight to jail—detained for violating the most
important part of her WITSEC agreement. She’d been given a
page-long list of stipulations specific to her case. Not murdering
anyone else was at the top of the list.

And now she’d gone and done it.

That was why John wasn’t here. She’d seen the
warmth in his eyes as she lay on the dirt and cried for her future.
He’d obviously realized the significance of what she’d said. Grant
probably filled him in, and he’d decided not to come with her but
to go back to Sanctuary instead. The one place Andra would never be
allowed to go.

The man’s pale eyes assessed her, like Andra
was a difficult math problem he was trying to solve. “You
understand you’ve damned yourself with your statement?”

Andra nodded. It was about all the movement
she could do, even though the bulk of her injuries were in her
torso and the rest of her was relatively unscathed. “I’m not going
to lie to you. I didn’t kill Betty Collins—”

“One—” He glanced down at his screen. “—Elma
Pepper has already confessed.”

“The teacher?”

The U.S. attorney nodded. “Mrs. Pepper
kidnapped Patrick Garrett Mason and held him hostage until—”

“What!” Andra shut her eyes and breathed
through the pain sparking behind her eyes. When it dissipated, she
looked at him. “Is Pat okay?”

“Safe and sound. Rescued by a—” He looked at
his laptop screen. ”—Nadia Marie Carleigh and Hal Gorge.”

“He was?” Except it actually made perfect
sense. “Of course he was.” After all, Nadia and Hal had both
successfully rescued Andra in their own way. She smiled. Of course
they would do the same for a kid.

The U.S. attorney’s brow crinkled. “This is
amusing to you?”

Andra cleared her throat. “Sort of. Not that
Pat was in danger. I’m glad he’s okay because Nadia was right. That
is one stinkin’ cute kid.”

The marshals glanced at each other.

“I was laughing because that’s precisely the
kind of thing Nadia and Hal would do. Despite the fact most people
in…where I live, hate me for being a stone cold killer and they’d
sooner see me gone than accept the fact they aren’t much better
than I was. I still liked living there.” She paused for a beat.
“Being arrested for murder, notwithstanding.”

The marshal to the right side of the door
cracked a smile.

The U.S. attorney’s face lost whatever
pleasantness he’d tried to bring with him. “It’s a shame you won’t
be going back home.”

The marshal left of the door reached behind
his back and drew out a pair of handcuffs.

Here it was: the end.

“Deputy Marshal John Mason seems to feel you
should be cleared of the charges. But the fact remains your WITSEC
contract, the Memorandum of Understanding you signed, clearly
states murder revokes all concessions you’ve been given. For you to
kill someone violates the contract and voids the immunity agreement
offered to you by my office. Even if the director of the marshals
also wants to dismiss the charges. As though I’m going to be swayed
by the simple fact he and the sheriff in charge of the case are
brothers. Their opinion of the situation is one thing. But it
doesn’t excuse the fact a law enforcement officer is dead.”

His statement made her wonder if he knew
anything about Sanctuary at all.

He looked at her for a long moment. “Despite
your statement, self-defense does not excuse you in this
instance.”

Andra swallowed. “I—”

“These marshals will remain here.” He shut
the lid of his laptop and stood. “You will be issued a new identity
and go to trial for the crimes you committed prior to being
accepted into witness protection.”

He should have added, “Have a nice life” but
he didn’t. Which was a shame, since he was essentially giving her
the kiss of death. Life in prison was what she had to look forward
to, if not the death penalty. It was a good thing John wasn’t here,
especially since he would try to stick up for her. The last thing
she wanted was to see his face when she was taken away.

Someone’s cell rang. The marshal on the right
of the door pulled out his phone and looked at the screen. He
ducked out the door and shut it behind him.

The other marshal smiled, more of a sneer
than anything that could be construed as amusement.

The U.S. attorney wrapped his coat over his
arm and picked up his briefcase in which he’d stowed his laptop.
“Thank you for your time, Ms. Caleri.”

The marshal snorted.

Despite what had happened, Andra managed to
smile. “I’m sure the pleasure was all yours.”

He gave her his back and walked out.

The marshal clipped one bracelet of the
handcuffs to the bed rail and attached the other to Andra’s wrist,
just below the hospital ID bracelet.

He shut the door and Andra closed her eyes.
She’d told the truth, and in doing so had incriminated herself. In
this case, the truth wasn’t going to set her free. The real
truth—Jesus—had already done that. Still, in this life Andra would
only know incarceration.

The U.S. attorney had chosen not to take
Grant and John’s word for it and release her to return to
Sanctuary. She’d had it good and been blessed with a facsimile of
freedom for ten years. Now it was time to go back to the real
world. Mercy had been granted to her, liberty from the price of her
sin. But the crimes she’d committed still had to be paid for.

Andra was going to have to live the rest of
her life knowing the taste of what could have been. The dream of a
family with John and Pat, and spending time with Nadia and Hal, was
gone now. And that taste was going to have to sustain her in the
desert of the rest of her natural life.

**

John strode into the hospital lobby with
Grant just after eight in the evening.

One of the marshals on Andra’s detail was
waiting. When John approached, the guy stuck out his hand.
“Mason.”

John nodded, waiting while the man shook
hands with Grant.

“Director.”

But John didn’t want to wait through more
pleasantries, so he cut to the chase. “What happened?”

The marshal rubbed the side of his head,
wincing in sympathy at John’s injuries. “She’s cuffed, in
protective custody pending trial. He isn’t backing down even though
it was self-defense.”

“How is she?”

“Quiet.”

John nodded. He didn’t expect much besides
stoic acceptance of her fate. But that wasn’t going to stop him
from doing everything he could. “I need to speak with Ms.
Caleri.”

The marshal nodded. John moved to follow him
down the hall, but Grant grabbed his arm. His brother’s face was
hard. “I have a couple of calls to make.”

As they walked to her room, John tried not to
think about what she was going to say. He said a prayer that she
would actually admit she felt the same way he did, that she would
fight for her own life for once.

The marshal on the door looked John up and
down. “Nice of you to join us.”

The one who’d met John in the lobby sighed.
“Sanders.”

He’d met them both before on different jobs
that never required him to make friends with them.

Sanders motioned to the door he was guarding.
“You need something, Mr. Director’s brother?”

“Yeah. A minute with Ms. Caleri.”

John didn’t know what they knew past Andra’s
basic details. Probably nothing about Sanctuary or the fact John
Mason was now both a small town sheriff and a U.S. marshal. Neither
would be allowed to write up what had happened in any report, and
the likelihood was he wasn’t going to see either of them beyond
this.

He turned to the marshal beside him. “It was
good to see you, man.”

He grinned. “You too, Mason. Take care.”

John let himself in the room. Andra’s face
didn’t look much better than the last time he saw her, though she
had color in her cheeks. Her eyelashes were fanned out on her
cheeks, dark against her pale skin.