Page 99 of Lost in the Moonlight

Mom took a breath and said, “Deputy Marshal James is our handler.”

Hector’s eyebrows almost hit his hairline as James cursed under her breath.

“You’re in witness protection?” Hector asked, stunned. He was more surprised than Lincoln had been. If anything, I suspected Lincoln had come close to figuring it out on his own.

Mom nodded as James made another sound of protest.

A deep sorrow flooded me. It was over. Everything we’d built here would be gone. I already knew what James would say. I knew what the Marshals would want to do. Our lives here had blown up, so it was time to move on.

As if confirming it, Deputy Marshal James said, “We’re taking you to the cottage until plans can be made for your withdrawal.”

Like a toddler dragging their feet at bedtime, I said, “I’m not quite finished here.” I didn’t just mean the cleanup and the dishes and everyone knew it.

James’s jaw ticked, and Hector took the towel from my hand.

“Go,” he said. “Do what you need to do.”

I heard the hurt in his voice and saw the confusion in his eyes as he glanced at Mom. She looked as sad as I felt, but her shoulders were back and her voice strong as she told him, “I’d like to call you later and try to explain, if you’ll let me.”

“That’s not a good idea,” James intervened.

Mom ignored her, letting me go. She stepped closer to Hector and took his hand in hers. “Please. It’s important to me. You’re important to me.”

How much more could my heart take? How much before I broke like I had after Dad had first been killed? When I could barely move and was terrified to open a window. I didn’t want to go back to that. I wanted my peace back, damn it. Even more, I wanted to keep Lincolnandwhat Mom and I had built here.

Hector stared at Mom for a moment before squeezing her back and saying, “I’ll be anxiously awaiting your call.”

The pressure eased off my chest just a hair. I retreated to the office to get my things, and Hector followed me. After I’d gotten my things from the locker, he pulled me to him in a hug. It was hard and tight and brought tears to my eyes.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I have to believe, with all these people looking out for you, that you’re going to be okay.” I swallowed hard and met his concerned gaze. “You’re weighed down, as if whatever is happening is something you’re responsible for, but I know you didn’t do that to the mural Sophia made. I know you wouldn’t hurt your mom or me or the café. So whatever is happening, whatever you have to discuss with that Marshal, I know that, in here”—he tapped my head and then my chest—“and in here, you are bright and beautiful and good, and that will always win out over the bad.”

I blinked furiously to keep the tears in. I was terrified this would be the last time I saw him. I hugged him just like he’d hugged me—fiercely. With all of me.

“Willow, we need to move,” Deputy Marshal James said, stepping into the hallway outside the office.

I stepped away from Hector and felt him watching me as we walked through the kitchen and out the door, but I didn’t look back. If I did, I’d lose it completely.

As soon as we were in the Marshal’s vehicle with Axel’s men following us, I demanded, “Why are you here? What’s happened?”

Her two-way squawked, and she spent the time it took to get to the cottage discussing Axel Garner with someone back at headquarters. By the time we stepped out of the vehicle, whatever she’d learned had satisfied her enough to allow his men to help her and two other Marshals clear the house and secure the perimeter.

Once she joined Mom and me in the kitchen, I snapped out at her again, “What’s going on?”

“Besides you telling the president of the United States’ son everything about you?” she barked. I flushed and looked away before turning my eyes back to her. She swiped at her face, running a hand over her shorn hair, and then said, “We can’t find Aaron Vitale.”

The shock of the words reverberated through me, chills running instantly up my spine. Bile burned in my throat. God, I’d been so certain this entire mess could be laid at Poco’s feet.

“What do you mean you can’t find him?” Mom demanded. “We just talked to you and reconfirmed his whereabouts.”

“When Willow’s backstory was poked at yesterday, I traced it to that damn security company. At first, before I knew Matherton had hired them, I assumed Aaron had found you. We sent in a team in Chicago to have a conversation with him, and that’s when we realized they haven’t had eyes on the real Aaron in several days.”

Blood stampeded through my veins, and I swallowed over the lump in my throat, asking, “What do you mean? The real Aaron?”

James’s mouth tightened. “Someone who looks a hell of a lot like him has been moving back and forth between his home and work. It wasn’t until we went into his office that we realized it wasn’t actually Aaron.”

I sank down on the barstool, and Mom stepped up to wrap an arm around me. “It’s going to be okay.”

But was it? Was it really? We had to leave. We had to run. We were losing everything. All of it. Lincoln. Hector. Our beautiful lives. Fury and disappointment and overwhelming sadness rushed through me, battling to see which emotion could do the most damage.

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