Page 113 of The Lie Maker

“Was anyone in touch with you about my case?” Dad asked.

“No.”

“Is there anyone else attached to my file she might have talked to without your knowledge?”

“No.”

“Any chance the program lost one of its witnesses this week?”

“If we had I would have heard about it.”

I looked at Dad, then at the phone, as if I could somehow see Stan. “What the fuck have I done?” I asked.

Stan said, “Cliff, we need to bring you in. Immediately.”

For half a second, I thought, who the fuck is Cliff? It was going to take some time to get used to my dad’s name.

“What’s your take?” Dad asked.

Stan said, very evenly, “Someone’s been using Jack to find you.”

I asked, “If Gwen’s not with the witness protection program, then who the fuck is she?”

“Tell me everything you can about her,” Stan said.

“Okay, okay,” I said. “First of all, the good news is, I didn’t tell her I was coming up here. She doesn’t know.”

“Where did you meet with her?” Stan asked.

“The first time, it was in a small office on Boylston. No big sign on the door that said ‘Witness Protection.’ It was Pandora Importing, something like that. A false front, I guess you’d call it.”

Stan had more questions and I tried to answer them as best I could. I was feeling sick to my stomach, and it wasn’t the pizza I’d eaten on the way up.

Finally, Stan said, “Cliff, we’ll have to set up someplace temporarily while we sort this shit out.”

Dad sighed wearily. “I was kind of liking it here, Stan.”

“For now, just go. Don’t pack. Find a cheap motel somewhere. I’ll call you in the morning.”

And then Stan was gone.

I looked at Dad, feeling the weight of what I’d done. “I’m sorry. I fucked up. I’ve walked right into something, haven’t I? Big time. I’ve led them right to your door. Jesus, I can’t believe it.”

He shook his head. “Let’s not worry about that now.”

I wanted to let Lana know what was going on, but wondered whether it was smart to discuss anything on the phone. But I got it out of my pocket, anyway.

“Shit,” I said. “I missed a call.” I remembered that I had muted the phone when I snuck into Dad’s trailer. “It’s from Earl. From an hour ago.”

I entered my voice mail code and put the phone to my ear.

“Jack! It’s me. Look, I don’t have time to explain, but you have to call Lana. This Cayden guy’s looking for her and he’s bad news! Fucking bad news! Tell her not to meet with him, to hide out for a while. I’ll explain later.”

Dad could see by my face that something was horribly wrong. “What?” he said.

“Cayden,” I whispered.

“Who—”