Chapter 10

. .

Hitting some heavy morning traffic on his way downtown, Ranger tuned into his zone and remained focused on his mission. Whether it was his driving skills or the magic, that Stephanie had so often imagined at work when he found parking places, Ranger moved swiftly through the sea of cars out in their daily commutes. He was glad for whatever force seemed to be working in his favor, it was important to get down to the city buildings as quickly as he could. His friend Eric had agreed to meet with him, but a few minutes would be all they had before Eric would be off on an assignment.

Ranger hoped that it would not take long to get the answers he sought. He was not, however, under any illusions that what he was asking was going to be easy. Leaving his car in the parking lot behind the building, Ranger strolled up to the doors. He pushed them open, relieved to see that he would not have to wait in any lines to get through security.

Placing his keys in the plastic bin, Ranger nodded at the guards as he passed through the sensors. He knew most of the men here. In his line of work, he knew many of the law enforcement officers around Trenton. They returned the silent greeting, a professional courtesy, certainly, but they all liked him too. They knew that Ranger and his company often made their own jobs a lot easier. In a fluid motion, Ranger smoothly grabbed his keys, tucking them into his pocket as he headed down the hall.

Eric was waiting for him outside the office door. Interesting. Ranger was curious but not surprised at seeing Eric there. His friend was in a hurry, understandably, but Ranger knew it was much more than that. All of the marshalls that he knew were very secretive about their job descriptions, let alone their workspace. It was not necessarily that way with Eric, as they went way back, were old friends. But to keep the peace with the others in the office, Eric had decided that a quick break outside would be a good idea.

"Walk with me," he said.

Eric Matheny was a big man, taller and wider than Ranger, but they both knew that if it came down

to it, Ranger would win any contest of strength they became involved in. Of course, that had never mattered, it had and never would come to that between them. And Eric's bad ass image was perfect for his job.

"Let's grab a coffee," Eric started to say. "Or something," he added, winking at his friend. They passed back through the doors that Ranger had just entered and walked down to the end of the street. As soon as they turned the corner, they were hit with the deep aroma of roasted coffee beans.

"Heat it up," Ranger said, reading the lettering on the large umbrella shading what looked like a modified bicycle built for two. The flames decorating the umbrella nearly glowed in the bright morning sunshine. Several people were already standing around with steaming cups in their hands. It looked promising, and when they got closer and Ranger caught the unmistakable scent of Chai, he almost smiled.

"It's on me," Eric said as they approached. A few minutes later the men walked further down the street, bright red Styrofoam cups in hand. This part of the area was residential with no obvious places to sit, so Eric motioned for them to walk just a bit further, separating themselves from the rest of the morning crowd and away from any curious ears and eyes.

Neither of them spoke for several minutes. When he began to talk, Ranger did not look up at his friend. If anyone was looking, his attention appeared to be on his drink. "You told me before about some of the procedures that you have to follow for witsec cases," he said. "Can I ask you a few more questions about that?"

Eric was silent for a long pause. "What do you need to know?" They both knew that there was only so much that he could say, the people who went into the witness protection programs had to leave their lives behind, and total secrecy was the only thing that could keep them safe.

Ranger brought the cup up to his lips, but he did not drink. The steam was still hot enough to warn him not to scald his mouth and he lowered the cup, holding it with both hands now. His mind went back to Stephanie's search. The way Jeffrey Phillips completely evaporated from existence still gave Ranger the idea that he had been absorbed into a witsec program. He wanted to find answers for Stephanie, but he was well aware of how delicate this conversation needed to be.

"It is a new life that you give these people, and I won't ask about that. But what is done to end the life they have to leave?" Ranger hesitated a moment and added more to the question. "Obits, funerals? What do the friends and acquaintances left behind get to do to have some degree of closure?"

Being a US marshall, Eric was always prepared to be completely vague when asked about his job, particularly about the witness protection program. He thought that he had heard it all, but what Ranger asked him now had actually never come up before.

"No, we don't generally stage fake funerals," he said. "I suppose that if it was requested we would, but no one has ever asked."

"Loose ends," Ranger said under his breath. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed logical to follow it through and end one life before helping someone start a whole new one. The huge gap left otherwise would just be begging to be explored. No doubt the marshalls knew their job, but Ranger figured it would not hurt for them to rethink a few of these details.

"What happens when someone tries to find these people?" Ranger asked. This time he looked up and their eyes met. Eric was slightly shaking his head, he had had experience with that kind of situation, usually involving a trial and some really bad guys, and it almost never worked out real well for anyone concerned.

"Do you need to find someone?" Eric asked cautiously. If asked for his help, his answer would have to be no, but he was curious where all of these questions were coming from.

Ranger delayed his answer by slowly taking a sip of his tea. "No," he finally said. "But there is somebody who is either trying to find someone, or trying to be found."

This statement took Eric by surprise. "Got a name?" he asked. Maybe there was something that he needed to know about this.

"An original name," Ranger said. "Don't know if the guy is under your protection, but there is enough circumstantial evidence to suggest that he could be." He paused. This was important, to Stephanie and possibly to the man in question, but he didn't want his friend to get into any trouble.

"Go on," Eric said. Ranger nodded. Looks like Eric was ready to get involved.

"Jeffrey Phillips."

Though Ranger was looking closely at Eric, his friends face showed no recognition or any emotion at all. That meant nothing, Eric was as good as Ranger was at schooling his reactions, and he had a damn good poker face. All he did was give him a quick sharp nod. "I'll get back to you," Eric said.

Their meeting was over. No more words were spoken as they returned to the building. Eric entered and Ranger watched him disappear behind the glass doors before turning and walking back to his car. He had been right. Eric's non-reaction had spoken volumes. He did not deny knowing anything and that meant he could have some information to share. At the right time.

Now he would have to wait. Ranger hated waiting. He had hoped to have something solid to take to Stephanie this morning. It was to have been his excuse to call her. See her. He slipped into his car and headed back. The traffic had eased up quite a bit now that the rush to work was over, but Ranger took no notice of it. His mind was working on his current problem.

He wanted to talk to Stephanie. There were a few things he needed to say to her. And he did not want to wait.

. .

Present day ~ Asbury Park, NJ

Waiting was always the hardest part and as much as she hated it, Trina Murphy had lots of experience at it. Her whole life, it seemed, she had been waiting for something. Music was first, waiting for the lessons and practicing to pay off. That took years and now she was really good. Good enough to have a spot in the Philadelphia Orchestra.

If she had been waiting for her parents to be proud of her accomplishments, Trina would still be disappointed. Neither she nor her brother had ever reached that pinnacle. Not as long as they had always been compared to their grandfather. Trina knew that had always bothered Jeffrey much more than it did her. He had absolutely hated it, she had just become resigned to it, but no matter what, it had influenced how they had lived their lives.

Of course, everything had changed since Jeffrey left. There was nothing she could have done about it. "The more things change, the more they stay the same," Trina muttered pulling the phone out of her pocket.

Wasn't it funny, Trina mused, funny that her brother had chosen to keep the family home here in Asbury Park. She would have thought that this house was the last thing that Jeffrey would have wanted. Too many memories. Instead of selling it, though, over the years she had watched as her brother spent his weekends fixing up the place with construction skills she didn't even know he had.

Now, it seemed, Trina could not part with the house either. She was back here again, back to Jeffrey's house. She would always think of it that way, even though he had not been here for nearly twelve years. Something always drew her back. Sentimentality, perhaps at one time, but now she knew it was much more than that. Secrets. That was what kept her coming home.

Trina was pacing again, back and forth between the kitchen and dining room. Once upon a time, that was as long as the telephone cord would reach, but old habits die hard and even with her cell phone in hand, the path was the same. It would have made Jeffrey laugh. When they were kids he never could understand the amount of time she seemed to spend on the phone talking to her friends. He had teased her about it constantly, but Trina knew it was only that, teasing. In reality, she did not have all that much extra time. Music, as always, came first.

Thoughts of Jeffrey were constantly on her mind, most often accompanied with deep pangs of regret. Trina never could explain how they had grown so far apart year after year. If she had to pinpoint the moment they started drifting away from each other she knew it was after she had finished college. He was busy with teaching, she thought, and her job with the orchestra kept her occupied. Then she met Ryan. Trina missed Jeffrey. She was always thinking about him, yet Trina was not able to talk about him, not with anyone, not even with her husband Ryan.

Why had everything become so crazy? Trina was living two lives now. One was a normal life with Ryan, the other a frantic search for Jeffrey. The two did not meet, not ever. They couldn't, not until Jeffrey was safe.

Keeping up the charade, Trina was trying to act what people would consider normal. This was their weekend at home, Jeffrey's home, she reminded herself, though she and Ryan legally owned it now. Normal, it was normal to come here every time the orchestra had a break.

Normal. The pacing while on the phone was as normal as preparing dinner, taking out the garbage, going to work. Normal was how Trina had been trying to act since the day Jeffrey had left. It was also the hardest thing she had ever had to do. But she had promised, so here she was.

It wasn't fair. Every day she thought the same thing. She was living in the home her parents had left to Jeffrey. Their childhood home had become hers when her brother had disappeared. Trina wished that Jeffrey were here instead. In his home. Living his life. That would be the right thing but she did not talk about it. If anyone thought it was strange that she did not mention much about her past, they were polite enough not to say anything.

Ryan smiled as he moved past his wife in the hallway. He knew Trina always paced while talking on her phone, he thought it was cute. He had no idea. He tenderly kissed her cheek as he made his way down the hall to the den. That was his favorite place in the house and Trina was glad he was okay being here. Ryan liked their second home well enough, but Trina had never told her husband about the secrets. Secrets that might be hiding right here in the house. Perhaps even in the room where he spent so much of his time.

Normal, she reminded herself as Ryan came back into the dining room and hugged her from behind. Trina leaned her head back on his chest, reaching up to give him a kiss before resuming her phone conversation. He squeezed her waist and kissed her neck just like he always did before moving away, back to the ball game playing on the TV in the den. Normal.

She smiled at him as he turned away. Trina wondered if Ryan was aware that they were playing a game, keeping up appearances. If he did she could only regret that he did not know the rules. So it was up to her to do her part, but now that the package had been sent, it was killing her. Pretending that anything was normal now was absurd. So often Trina wondered how long she could keep it up, keep playing her part.

Forever, or as long as she needed to. That was the only answer. As it had been for over a decade now.