Weep
in the Night by Valerie Massey Goree
Blurb:
After three
years in the witness protection program, Sadie Malone’s life in Texas is bland
and humdrum—until she meets a new co-worker. Bowen Boudine ignites a flame in
Sadie’s long-dormant heart, but when she discovers he knows her true identity,
she attempts to flee. He thwarts her escape and reveals the reason he’s been
sent to locate her.
Bowen, a
seasoned operative with International Retrieval Organization takes his job
escorting Sadie safely back to California seriously, but quickly finds he’s
falling for her. Can he maintain a professional relationship while he protects
her from the crime boss her testimony helped to convict?
Extract:
ONE
She ran her
finger across the white plastic nametag. Blue letters spelled out Debra Johnson, but that wasn’t her name.
The light bulb
above the sink crackled and died. She hated the dark. Backing out of the
bathroom, she leaned against the wall and flipped on the hall light. Shadows
scuttled away but left a trace of unease in her gut.
Tears blurred
her vision as she pinned the name tag on her shirt. It took two attempts to
snag the pin in place. Get a grip, Sadie.
You’re safe.
Although she’d
been in the Federal Witness Protection Program for almost three years, she
still thought of herself as Sadie Malone. Sometimes her past latched onto her
soul and yanked her down to the depths of grief like a meteor plummeting to
earth. Today would have been her husband’s thirty-seventh birthday. She closed
her eyes. The faces of Aaron and Hannah, her four-year-old daughter, floated in
and out of a gray mist. Gone. They were both gone.
A shiver took
control of Debra’s body as ice crystals formed in her heart.
She would not
succumb to despair.
Clenching her
jaw, she hunted in the closet for a new bulb and installed it. Light cascaded as
she glared in the bathroom mirror, chest heaving, and the corners of her mouth
pointing south. The hall clock chimed the hour. Nine o’clock. Debra squared her
shoulders and opened her cosmetic bag. No matter her emotional state, she
needed to leave soon.
Miles Griffin,
her local WITSEC contact, had found her the job and would be disappointed if
she got fired. Dabbing on makeup, she paid special attention to her red-rimmed
eyes. Couldn’t have curious co-workers bugging her with questions.
Sadie brushed
her hair and arranged the short blonde curls to cover the dark roots. Time to
schedule an appointment with Yolanda, but it would have to wait until her next
day off. Dyeing her hair took time and money, which she sacrificed without
complaint to keep her whereabouts secret.
Satisfied with
the makeup’s camouflage, Debra headed to the kitchen for her salad sack lunch. She’d
much prefer to eat a burger and fries, but patted her flat stomach and closed
the refrigerator. No way would she gain back the weight she’d lost since being
in WITSEC. Dressed for work in blue jeans, aqua T-shirt, and sneakers, she slid
the nonprescription glasses on her nose and glanced in the hall mirror. The
wire-rimmed frames changed her appearance. She sure didn’t look like Sadie
Malone anymore.
When she stepped
out of her corner, ground-floor apartment, she scanned the area for loitering
strangers or anyone out of the ordinary. The whine of a power mower filled the
air with the sweet smell of cut grass. Mrs. Gaffney watered plants by her front
door; Lloyd Kaiser tinkered with his bicycle in front of his apartment, three
doors down; Jodie Powers walked her pug. All familiar, all OK.
With a satisfied
nod, Debra took the sidewalk to the parking area and climbed into her white
mid-sized sedan. The economical, inconspicuous vehicle matched her
circumstances. In it, she could be as invisible as possible. At times, she
missed her SUV, but with no little girl to buckle into a car seat and no
husband to laugh and talk with, the smaller vehicle suited her needs.
As she drove to
Rhodes DIY Headquarters, a local home improvement store, she fingered her nametag.
Debra Johnson wasn’t the only name change she’d had. Right after the trial in
Los Angeles, still grieving for Aaron and Hannah, she’d been whisked to
Seattle, known there as Sadie Mason.
She parked in
the employee lot and glanced at her short nails as she removed the key from the
ignition. At least in Seattle she had an office job. But her identity there had
been compromised. Now, here in Austin, Texas, she worked at Rhodes in the
garden center. Dirt under her nails, rough hands, aching back––nothing like her
original job in technology. Computer expertise led to her placement in WITSEC.
That meant no jobs in the computer industry for her ever again.
At least she had
friends at Rhodes and that was important. She took a deep breath of the crisp
morning air, still earthy from the overnight rain, and entered the store. Once
in the break room, apron on, Sadie clocked in. Several people milled about.
“Hi, Debra. How
was your weekend?”
Used to the
name, she turned. “Hey, April. Great. It was nice to have two days off. How’s
Victor?”
“So-so. He took
me to meet his parents yesterday. Then he asked me to move in with him, but I
told him no.” April, in her mid-twenties, a decade younger than Sadie, closed
her locker and tied her apron around her slender waist. “I told Victor what
your pastor said about marriage.”
April still referred
to Reece Patterson as Sadie’s pastor, although she’d attended Hillcrest Church
for six months. Sadie had only been going there a few months longer. Her church
activities had ceased two and a half years ago when her family died. Attendance
now wavered between enthusiastic and perfunctory, a result of guilt and a
gnawing vacuum where her soul used to be.
“Good for you.
Considering marriage is a serious commitment.” Stop, Sadie. Don’t get involved
in a discussion about marriage and family. She closed her locker before
adjusting her fake glasses. “Are you ready to go?”
With a nod,
April held the door for Sadie, and they left the room together.
“Have you met
the new guy? Ooh, muy caliente. If I didn’t
have my Victor, I’d set my sights on him.”
“No, I haven’t
seen this new, hot guy.” After all that had happened, meeting men, good-looking
or otherwise, was not high on Sadie’s priority list. Since the car accident
that killed Aaron and Hannah, she had little interest in a romantic life. Her
routine consisted of work, developing a few friendships, and most important,
staying safe.
A jab in the
ribs brought her back to the wide store aisles. “There he is, Debra. Over
there.” April pointed to a group of men examining a stack of cedar fence posts.
To appease her,
Sadie asked, “Which one? I recognize Oscar and Greg.”
“He’s the one in
the blue shirt.”
The men
concluded their discussion and the new guy turned, heading down the aisle.
Eyes on the
approaching figure, Sadie had to agree with April. Muy caliente indeed. About average height, thick black hair—a stray
curl flopped on his forehead—and an athletic body. He beamed a hundred watt
smile at April. “Hi.” His deep voice complemented his physical appearance.
Before April
could respond, her name echoed through the store. Paged by the appliance
department, she shoved Debra toward the new guy. “Got to go. Meet my friend.”
Sadie frowned at
April’s retreating figure.
The man turned
to Sadie. A dimple in one cheek enhanced his rugged face. “Hi, April’s friend.
I’m Sam.” He extended his hand.
His name
ricocheted through her heart. Automatically, she shook hands and mumbled, “I’m
Debra.”
Eyes as blue as
a jay bird raked her face. “Nice to meet you. Which department do you work in?”
“Garden. And I’m
sorry I can’t stay and chat. I have a load of star jasmine waiting for me.” She
sent him a plastic smile she was sure never touched her eyes and hurried away.
Sam. His name
was Sam. A lump of sadness slid down her throat. Because of her initials, her
husband’s nickname for her had been Sam––Sadie Aretta Malone.
Although the
arrival of plants and other spring merchandise kept Sadie busy, she couldn’t
shake the recurring waves of melancholy that shadowed her. No matter how much
she tried to avoid the new guy, he appeared at every turn, reminding her of
happier days. Why did his name have to be Sam? He attempted to strike up
conversations, but the early spring rush provided believable excuses for Debra
to escape.
Her ploy worked
until lunchtime. She opened the break room door and scanned the crowded area.
Oscar munched on popcorn, the charred, nutty aroma announcing he’d burnt it
again, and someone had heated a fishy meal in the microwave. Sadie wrinkled her
nose.
Where could she
sit?
Sam sat alone at
a small table wedged beside the counter. A pile of sandwiches spilled out of
his lunch box. One foot rested on the single unoccupied chair. With eyebrows
raised, he glanced her way. “Hey, Debra. Want to join me?” He set his foot on
the floor.
She had no
choice. “Sure.” With great reluctance, she collected her sack from the
refrigerator and sat in the chair he scooted out for her. “Thanks.”
Salad bowl open,
she mixed in Italian dressing. Stay away
from his eyes. But she couldn’t help it. Their blueness intrigued her. Were
they real or did he wear colored contacts?
Focusing on her
bowl, she chomped on lettuce, the tangy dressing enlivening her taste buds.
Sam picked up
another sandwich and set his elbows on the table. “So, Miss Debra, how long
have you worked here?” His dimple appeared again.
Always cautious
when questioned, she kept the answer vague and brief. “A year or so.”
“And where are
you from? I don’t hear a Texas twang.”
Getting
too personal, mister. She took a swig from her water bottle.
“I moved around a lot as a kid. Don’t claim any one state as home.”
“I can
appreciate that. My brother and I were raised in foster care, but I was born in
Dayton, Ohio.”
Thankful her
eyes were focused on the last of the salad, Sadie kept her head down. First,
his name brought back memories. Now, two more troubling coincidences. She’d
been raised by foster families and moved more times than she could remember.
And she was born in Dayton.
She gulped hard
to keep from choking on little bits of fear infused in her lunch. “You don’t
say.” Salad bowl snapped closed, she gathered her things together. “Got a few
phone calls to make before I return to the garden. Good-bye.”
Anyone observing
her exit would have thought Freddy Krueger chased her as she ran from the break
room. Not knowing what else to do, she punched Miles Griffin’s speed dial
number on her cell phone.
Griff listened
to her concerns about the new guy. “Good instincts, Debra. Glad you called.
Find out his last name and any other personal information you can scrounge.
I’ll do a bit of checking.” Talk about a Texas twang. Griff’s words drawled out
as if he had a limited number and had to make them last all day.
Sadie slowed as
she neared the garden center. Sam did not have on a nametag. “I’ll see what I
can discover.”
“In the
meantime, young lady, stay cool and keep your eyes open.”
“Always do.
Thanks, Griff.” She slipped her phone into her apron pocket.
Oh, joy. Now
she’d have to talk to the new guy again or find another way of snooping for
information. And she’d have to call him Sam—he couldn’t be the new guy forever.
Opportunity came
when Sadie clocked out at ten after six and had the break room to herself.
Rhodes still used time cards, which were listed alphabetically in the metal
holder. After returning hers to its slot, she checked for Sam’s. It took a
while but she located a card for Sam Boudine.
She tugged her
purse and lunch sack from her locker and jotted down Sam’s name. As she turned
to leave the room, he entered.
“Hey, Debbie.
Your shift over?”
The name grated
like screeching metal. If she couldn’t use her real name, then at least she’d
have one she could tolerate. “It’s Debra.” With her purse in hand, she couldn’t
deny her intentions. “Yeah, I’m leaving.”
“Sorry, Debra.
I’m on my way out too. Hold up, and I’ll walk with you.”
Every fiber in
her being objected, but she waited for him to clock out.
On the way to
the exit, she fudged on the truth. “April told me your last name. There can’t
be too many Boudines in Ohio.”
“My grandparents
were from Louisiana.”
While
considering other questions she could ask to garner personal information, he
continued the conversation and provided a cache.
“I really like
Austin. Never lived in Texas, before. Got pink-slipped up north and thought I’d
give the south a try.”
“So you don’t
have any family down here?” Now outside, she elongated her stride to keep up
with his long legs.
“Nah. It’s just
little ol’ me.” His shoulders drooped, which caught her attention. “Had a wife
and little girl.”
Antennae now on
full alert, Sadie rummaged in her purse for her keys. “What happened?” She
expected to hear about a divorce, but his next words stunned her.
“They were
killed in a car wreck.”
Just like her
family. Goosebumps pinpricked her arms. To hide her alarm, she pressed the car
remote.
“Allow me.” Sam
opened her door.
“That’s really
sad.” Sliding into the car, she threw her purse onto the passenger seat.
“Two years ago.”
Sam lingered by her door. “Want to see a picture?”
With his wallet
already out, she had little choice. An attractive brunette holding a
dark-haired toddler stared back at her.
Words clogged
her throat. She glanced up at him and her heart twisted at his pained
expression. Guilt for her earlier rudeness and for talking to him only to
collect information needled her conscience. But her heart did more than flutter
at his next words. It jerked to a stop.
“I still miss
’em. My baby, Paige, and my wife, Sadie.”
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