Shattered Lives by Joseph Lewis Read Free Book Online Page B

Bobby could stay at his grandmother’s house, he threw some of his wife’s clothes in a small red suitcase, topped off the gas tank and picked up Victoria from the hospital.  He hadn’t said anything when he showed up, but he was agitated and ghost-like, so she had assumed the worse.
    It was only when they got into the car in the hospital parking ramp that he turned to her and repeated the message from the FBI agent.  She stared at him in disbelief, searching his face for any clue that it was a sick practical joke.  He seemed shaken and anxious, but earnest and sincere, so she changed out of her whites as they drove to Chicago.
    Two hours later north of Indianapolis on Interstate 65, about forty-five minutes from downtown Chicago, Thomas reached over and took hold of Victoria’s hand.  It had been so long since they had held hands, so long since there was a touch of any kind that she had stared at their hands, their fingers intertwined.
    When she looked over at him, she noticed that he was weeping.
    She didn’t know what to say, much less how to say it.  It had been so long since they had comforted one another, had even tried to comfort one another that she was out of practice, so she just held his hand.
    “Vicki, I don’t know if Brett will recognize us,” he said quietly, wiping his eyes with his other hand, holding the steering wheel temporarily with his knee.  “I’ve been thinking about what he went through, what he was forced to do . . .” he didn’t finish, he just shook his head. Victoria began to tear up and turned to look out the window so Thomas wouldn’t see it. “I think both of us thought we’d never see him again.  I expected a phone call telling us he was found dead.  I never, not in a million years, thought we’d get a phone call telling us he was alive.” He paused and made another swipe at his eyes. “Hell, we even made his room into a guest room and packed his things away.”  He stopped and shook his head.  “Jesus!  This is so unbelievable!”
    Victoria searched frantically for something, anything to say but came up empty.  Gratefully, her cell chirped.  She freed her hand from Thomas’ so she could get to her phone.
    Puzzled because she didn’t recognize the number, she said, “Yes?”
    “Vicki, don’t mention my name or let on that it’s me,” the man said.
    Of course Victoria knew who it was and had recognized the voice immediately.
    “Okay,” she said quietly.
    “By now you’ve heard the news.  You’re going to hear all sorts of lies and fabricated stories.”
    “Yes, but-”
    “-let me finish.  I’ve been undercover, and I still am.  You’re going to hear things about me that aren’t true.  You have to believe me.  They aren’t true.  In time, I’ll explain everything.  Do you understand?”
    Victoria frowned, turned her head to the passenger window and said, “No, I don’t . . . not at all.”
    “But I promise you will . . . in time . . . all of it.  But it’s important that you believe me and not the lies you’re going to hear.  Can you trust me, Vicki?”
    She nodded and whispered tentatively, “Yes, I guess so.”
    “It’s important, Vicki.  Don’t tell anyone it was me.  Tell Tom it was a call from the hospital.  You can make something up.  When I can, I’ll call to give you updates.”
    “Yes . . . okay,” Victoria said nodding.
    “Who’s that?” Thomas asked.  “Is that the FBI?  How did they get your number?”
    Victoria waved at him to be quiet.
    “Stay in touch . . . please . . . okay?” Victoria said.
    “Yes . . . Gotta go.” And with that, the call ended and Victoria held a dead line, more puzzled and confused than when the trip began.
    Thomas asked, “Who was that?”
    Victoria shook her head absentmindedly, very confused.
    “The hospital.  Nothing important,” she said more to herself than to him.
     
     

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    Chicago, Illinois
     
                  Brett stepped quietly