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15

Once Deputy AssistantDirector Hastings finished the official FBI statement, Kimberly took a deep breath and stood behind the podium. Thankfully, it was solid and big enough to hide her shaking knees. Alex stood against the wall behind her with two agents, including the one who had administered first aid earlier.

“Over the past several days, there have been television interviews and news conferences with my father-in-law, Hawthorn Thompson, claiming many things, from questioning my sanity to my involvement in my late husband’s death. I would like to address his claims. I did not disappear or go missing.

“I ran.

“Every person has the right to run from an abusive relationship to find safety. I felt it was in my best interests, as well as that of my unborn child, to seek shelter outside my father-in-law’s sphere of influence. I am in a safe place. Please stop searching for me. There are those in this country who are truly lost. Please put your efforts and resources toward finding them. Because I left, my father-in-law has called my mental health into question, claiming I am delusional or deeply troubled and unfit to be the mother of my child.

“It is not delusional to want to be safe. Seeking safety for myself and my unborn child proves I am a fit mother. Deputy Assistant Director Hastings has already addressed my cooperation with the FBI and the suspicious death of my husband. I will remain in contact with him and his associates in law enforcement throughout the investigation.

“Another claim has to do with Leigh Benz. Yes, that is my pen name. A separate press release is being made this afternoon by my agent regarding a donation to several organizations that provide shelter to the abused and reach out to find the lost. In some small way, I hope to shift the focus of media and the resources that have been unnecessarily spent on me to those who desperately need such help.

“I thank everyone who turned in tips for their concern. Please put your efforts toward helping others around you. Thank you.” Kimberly stepped back from the microphone.

The reporters shouted over each other.

“Mrs. Thompson, where have you been hiding?”

Kimberly took another step back and found Alex’s hand, clinging to it as the questions continued.

“Will you return to California?”

“Does the FBI have any leads on your husband’s death?”

Deputy Assistant Director Hastings stepped between her and the microphone. “We will not be taking questions. There will be a copy of this press release on the FBI website within the hour. Thank you and good day.”

Alex led Kimberly out of the briefing room, flanked by the two agents.

Alex’s uncle showed them into a small waiting room and shut the door. “The two of you can wait here until someone shows you out. Most of the reporters will run to file their stories before the East Coast news airs.”

Kimberly extended her hand. “Thank you for all your help.”

“A word of caution: Agents Danes and Garcia think you know more about your husband’s activities than you’ve admitted to, most likely something you don’t realize you know. They will want to question you again, in person.”

“I’m not going to—”

Deputy Assistant Director Hastings held up a finger. “If they believe it, then whoever killed your husband probably thinks the same. I suggest you keep yourself in whatever safe house Alex chooses. I didn’t disclose your change in marital status to the media to help with that.” He turned to Alex and held out his hand. “I need to return the suit coat.”

Alex shrugged out of the suit coat that had been tossed to him moments before they entered the briefing room, then handed it to his uncle and was enveloped in a hug.

“Congratulations on your nuptials. I feel I should remind you that insurance fraud is a crime the bureau takes seriously. I trust your marriage will last a very long time. I’d hate to investigate my favorite nephew. Oh, and Agent Samuels thinks your wife should see a doctor soon if she hasn’t already had a glucose test for gestational diabetes.”

Kimberly swallowed her gasp as Alex’s Uncle left, and then she sank into the closest chair.

Alex laid a hand on her shoulder. “Are you feeling light-headed?”

“Yes, I mean no. Insurance fraud? I never—”

Alex bent to eye level. “It didn’t even cross my mind.”

“What have I done?”

16

The following week,Alex held Kimberly’s hand in the doctor’s waiting room as she gulped the last of the orange, syrupy drink. He tried not to laugh at the face she made.

“I’m sure they would let you try some. It’s like the orange drink the fast-food places sold when I was little, only concentrated.”