the
jobs Mr. B worked on.”
“I noticed that too,” Kenton said, setting
the fork aside. “They wanted to know who provided the information
to Uncle David instead of focusing on his terminated security
clearance. I know they need to check all angles, but they were
stuck on you.”
As their words sunk in, she asked,
“Why?”
“Huh?” Sven looked at her.
“Why would they care about me at all? I was
an administrative assistant to Mr. Baxter. Why would they ask me if
I know these people?” A shiver of dread crawled down her back.
Maybe they knew more than they let on.
“Did you see pictures of the men when you
vetted them?” Kenton stared at her and then looked at Sven.
“Just one of them, Spice. There wasn't one
on Walker.”
“He's the one that did most of the talking,
right?”
“Yeah, he did.” Sven stood and pulled out
his radio. “Check the perimeter; I want to know when our guests
leave the property.” Lips pursed, he paced the floor waiting for a
reply.
“I saw the car pull out of the driveway,
but...hold on; I see it on monitor now. It's leaving through the
west gate.” The voice said with a tinge of surprise.
“Damn it,” Sven shouted, “what’s out there?”
She and Kenton looked at each other and then watched Sven pace.
There was no reason for the agents to be on that side of the
property, they’d made a deliberate detour. The question remained,
why?
The voice on the radio spoke after a few
moments. “Everything appears in order.”
A collective sigh rose in the room. “Good,
eyes alert. I want to know if a frog farts, got that?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Farts?” Chastity snorted while sitting on a
stool near Kenton. Fear, her old companion, had latched onto her
throat the moment Sven made the call. Although she knew there was
no reason to be afraid, her breaths were rapid and shallow. Ms.
Cook had the kids in the family room, and everyone else that she
cared about was in this room. Still, an acrid taste of despair
clung to the back of her throat like a parasite refusing to leave.
One day, she vowed in silence, she'd no longer be under fear's
thumb. One day she'd be free of this quagmire of guilt and shame
from her childhood.
Sven waved off her comment and sat down
frowning. Lost in their own thoughts, they didn't notice Micah limp
into the kitchen until he spoke.
“Mr. Kenton, I need you to tell Jonah to
stop hiding. I told him he'd won but he won't give up.” He stood
shame-faced in front of his parents, gazing at the floor.
Chastity took in his scuffed sneakers,
sweaty, dirt-stained tee shirt and jeans as his words sank into her
conscious. “What?” she whispered as her heart thundered in her
chest. “What'd you say?”
Micah's face crumbled, tears leaked from his
lids. “We were playing hide and seek outside and he won.” Chastity
closed her eyes. Fright eclipsed her view. Darkness thundered in
the distant edges of her mind.
“I thought we told all of you to stay in the
family room with Ms. Cook.” She heard Kenton’s comment and gripped
the countertop, determined fight off the rising panic to hear the
conversation.
“Ms. Cook said we were too loud and told us
to go outside while she took a nap with Mariah.” A cramp gripped
Chastity’s stomach, followed by roiling nausea. Words refused to
form, her hand reached out, found Kenton’s and squeezed.
“How long were you outside?” Sven asked, his
voice low.
“I dunno. Mr. Kenton, are you going to tell
him?” Micah pleaded.
“Nooooooo,” the wail burst through her lips
as she shot up and ran toward the back door. They had her baby; she
knew it like she knew her name. “Those assholes took my baby,” she
screamed.
“What?” Micah asked, his voice shaky.
Fear recognized fear. She forced herself to
calm down. Tears ran unchecked as she faced the knowledge that her
innocent son was now a victim because of her dark past. They'd hurt
him because of her. The name. The FBI guy asked about a name.
jobs Mr. B worked on.”
“I noticed that too,” Kenton said, setting
the fork aside. “They wanted to know who provided the information
to Uncle David instead of focusing on his terminated security
clearance. I know they need to check all angles, but they were
stuck on you.”
As their words sunk in, she asked,
“Why?”
“Huh?” Sven looked at her.
“Why would they care about me at all? I was
an administrative assistant to Mr. Baxter. Why would they ask me if
I know these people?” A shiver of dread crawled down her back.
Maybe they knew more than they let on.
“Did you see pictures of the men when you
vetted them?” Kenton stared at her and then looked at Sven.
“Just one of them, Spice. There wasn't one
on Walker.”
“He's the one that did most of the talking,
right?”
“Yeah, he did.” Sven stood and pulled out
his radio. “Check the perimeter; I want to know when our guests
leave the property.” Lips pursed, he paced the floor waiting for a
reply.
“I saw the car pull out of the driveway,
but...hold on; I see it on monitor now. It's leaving through the
west gate.” The voice said with a tinge of surprise.
“Damn it,” Sven shouted, “what’s out there?”
She and Kenton looked at each other and then watched Sven pace.
There was no reason for the agents to be on that side of the
property, they’d made a deliberate detour. The question remained,
why?
The voice on the radio spoke after a few
moments. “Everything appears in order.”
A collective sigh rose in the room. “Good,
eyes alert. I want to know if a frog farts, got that?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Farts?” Chastity snorted while sitting on a
stool near Kenton. Fear, her old companion, had latched onto her
throat the moment Sven made the call. Although she knew there was
no reason to be afraid, her breaths were rapid and shallow. Ms.
Cook had the kids in the family room, and everyone else that she
cared about was in this room. Still, an acrid taste of despair
clung to the back of her throat like a parasite refusing to leave.
One day, she vowed in silence, she'd no longer be under fear's
thumb. One day she'd be free of this quagmire of guilt and shame
from her childhood.
Sven waved off her comment and sat down
frowning. Lost in their own thoughts, they didn't notice Micah limp
into the kitchen until he spoke.
“Mr. Kenton, I need you to tell Jonah to
stop hiding. I told him he'd won but he won't give up.” He stood
shame-faced in front of his parents, gazing at the floor.
Chastity took in his scuffed sneakers,
sweaty, dirt-stained tee shirt and jeans as his words sank into her
conscious. “What?” she whispered as her heart thundered in her
chest. “What'd you say?”
Micah's face crumbled, tears leaked from his
lids. “We were playing hide and seek outside and he won.” Chastity
closed her eyes. Fright eclipsed her view. Darkness thundered in
the distant edges of her mind.
“I thought we told all of you to stay in the
family room with Ms. Cook.” She heard Kenton’s comment and gripped
the countertop, determined fight off the rising panic to hear the
conversation.
“Ms. Cook said we were too loud and told us
to go outside while she took a nap with Mariah.” A cramp gripped
Chastity’s stomach, followed by roiling nausea. Words refused to
form, her hand reached out, found Kenton’s and squeezed.
“How long were you outside?” Sven asked, his
voice low.
“I dunno. Mr. Kenton, are you going to tell
him?” Micah pleaded.
“Nooooooo,” the wail burst through her lips
as she shot up and ran toward the back door. They had her baby; she
knew it like she knew her name. “Those assholes took my baby,” she
screamed.
“What?” Micah asked, his voice shaky.
Fear recognized fear. She forced herself to
calm down. Tears ran unchecked as she faced the knowledge that her
innocent son was now a victim because of her dark past. They'd hurt
him because of her. The name. The FBI guy asked about a name.
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