No Safe Place Read online

  “All right,” Beth said. “I’m not forcing you to buy anything. You have final approval on whatever you want to wear.”

  Well, now he just felt like an even bigger idiot. “Fine. You win. Let’s just get this over as quickly as possible.”

  Forty-five minutes later, Corbin had to admit she had good taste. After ringing up their purchases, they ducked into separate bathrooms and changed. He’d agreed to purchase a navy-blue button-down shirt, a pair of jeans and a dark brown canvas coat.

  Dumping his torn shirt in the trash felt good. As though he was letting go of the previous day. Of his previous mistakes. He was relatively certain there was no way they were being tracked, but he still wasn’t letting down his guard.

  Beth stepped out of the bathroom and caught sight of him. “Not bad. I might be in the wrong business.”

  Two men passed through the front door. They were about the same height and build of the men who’d been following them. Beth snatched his hand.

  “Not them,” he said immediately, sensing her distress.

  As the two men neared, it was clear they were father and son.

  “I owe you an apology for what I said last night.” She retracted her hand. “I’m starting to understand how you feel. Everything seems sinister these days. I’m looking at everyone with new eyes. Your job must really get to you.”

  “Some days are more difficult than the others. We should get going.”

  Her words had haunted him the previous evening. What must it be like to see everyone as a threat? It was far easier than dying, that was for certain.

  It was one of those rare autumn days when the air was frigid cold, but the sun painfully bright. The blast of cold air hit them like a wall. Beth tugged her new gloves over her wrists and yanked the coat tighter around her middle.

  As they reached the car, he swung open the door. “Appreciating the new gear?”

  “Most definitely.”

  He navigated the car back on to the interstate and headed north. The frosty air reminded him of being a kid in Wisconsin. Of playing in the snow until his fingers and toes ached. Despite the cooler temperatures, the area had yet to experience a snowfall, leaving the landscape in dull shades of brown and rust. The trees were nothing but bare skeleton branches etched against the horizon.

  Corbin viewed a map on his new phone and navigated the traffic.

  “You said you worked a case here?” Beth asked. “You seem to know your way around.”

  “Last year.” They’d had a report of suspicious activity from a bank teller who worked in the suburbs. It hadn’t taken long to figure out the clerk had been too enthusiastic in his profiling. “Spent about six weeks living downtown. Middle of the winter. Thought I was going to be miserable, but I discovered cross-country skiing. Ever tried?”

  “Nope.”

  He shrugged. “I always try something new when I visit a city. Helps alleviate the boredom. What do you do?”

  “Um. I jog. Sometimes I visit a museum or something. I read a lot. There aren’t many places a person can visit alone without standing out.”

  He pictured her hovering near the break room as everyone else sang “Happy Birthday.” He hadn’t considered how her job always kept her on the outside looking in. She was always the new employee, never staying long enough to be truly included. Though he’d done plenty of undercover work, he had a home base. Someplace that kept him centered. What did Beth have? He didn’t suppose most people warmed to a forensic accountant right away.

  “That must get lonely,” he said.

  “Not really.” She kept her gaze fixed on the passing scenery. “I’m used to being alone.”

  “You’re an only child, right?” He knew a few facts about her. Age. Address. Family background. But he didn’t know anything about her personally. “I suppose that makes a difference.”

  What else had he learned along the way? She always recycled. She never took the elevator—even when she was wearing heels—and she had a weakness for expensive chocolate. Every Friday for the past two weeks, she’d visited the neighboring department store during her lunch hour, returning with a small, foil-wrapped box of truffles. Four truffles that lasted through the following week.

  She fiddled with the zipper on her new coat. “I think it depends more on your personality than whether or not you’re an only child. I’m an introvert. I’m not much for crowds. Or, um, new people. What about you? Do you have brothers and sisters?”

  For a moment he hesitated. This was a mistake. While he was supposed to be getting to know her, he should be protecting himself. Yet he didn’t see the harm in sharing rudimentary information. He’d asked her a personal question, after all. She had every right to inquire about him, as well.

  “I had an older brother,” he said. “Evan was killed in Afghanistan a few years ago.”

  “That’s when you got the tattoo?” her voice was hushed.

  “Yep.”

  Evan had died forty-three months ago this week, to be exact. The pain was still there. It had never completely dulled. He could forget, for a while. The passage of time had whittled away the sharpest edges.

  There were times when he could behave as though everything was normal. But there were other times, the oddest times, when a memory brought his brother to the forefront of his mind, and he felt as though the loss was yesterday.

  Lately he couldn’t help but wonder about the future. When did it get easier? When would he be able to speak of Evan’s death without feeling as though the loss was three hours ago instead of nearly four years before?

  “I’m sorry,” Beth said quietly. “Losing your only brother. That must have been devastating.”

  “Yeah.”

  Devastating was as good a word as any. He’d felt ripped apart, as though he’d lost of a vital piece of himself, of his memories. He and his brother had a shared history, and sometimes it felt as though that history had disintegrated with Evan’s death.

  He glanced over to find Beth staring at him. He quickly shifted his attention back to the road.

  “What was he like?” she asked.

  The question took him by surprise. Most people changed the subject. Most people feared walking into an emotional minefield.

  Unaccustomed to follow-up questions, he struggled to form his thoughts. “Evan was the outgoing kid in the family. Impulsive. Reckless. He mellowed as he got older. After he joined the military.”

  “Did you follow in his footsteps? Is that why you joined the army?”

  It all seemed like a lifetime ago. He hadn’t thought about his decision in years. “Sort of. I always knew I wanted to serve. My family didn’t have a lot of money growing up. Figured joining the military was the only way I was going to pay for my education. Evan was two years older, but he didn’t join right away. He did some traveling after graduation. He didn’t really have a direction. He was good at everything, and everything came easy to him. Then one day I got a call. He was in boot camp.”

  “Just like that?” She whistled softly. “Didn’t he tell anyone? Not even your parents?”

  “Nope. Said he talked to a recruiter. Signed the papers the next day. Just made up his mind, I guess. Same thing when he got married. Called the family from Hawaii.”

  “Wow. That’s crazy. I can’t imagine making a life-changing decision like that on the spur of the moment. I once bought a sofa and agonized over the decision for a month.”

  Corbin chuckled. “That was Evan. Once he got something into his head, there was no stopping him. So I guess you could say I followed in his footsteps, because he went through boot camp first. I was still in school when he did his first tour of duty.”

  “What was your plan when you enlisted?”

  He shook his head. “You don’t get to plan when you’re in the military. The army makes a plan for you, and that’s how it’s done.”

&nb
sp; “Can you tell me about your job?” She flashed a grin. “Or will you have to kill me?”

  “I can tell you some.” He caught sight of his exit and signaled a lane change. “I worked in crypto. Had a top-secret security clearance. Spent most of my time stateside working in underground bunkers or in buildings without windows. After Evan died, I requested a transfer. Did my last year in Afghanistan. I liked the change of scenery.”

  This was delving into increasingly personal areas, but he didn’t see the harm. This was his history. Nothing anyone couldn’t find out with an internet search.

  “But you didn’t reenlist, even though you liked the scenery?” Her voice lifted at the end of the sentence in question.

  “Nope. I didn’t reup.” He hardly even remembered making the decision. He didn’t recall much from that time. Everything had turned into a blur.

  “Why not?”

  “Well—”

  “Never mind.” She touched his sleeve. “You don’t have to answer if that’s too personal.”

  “Nah. I’m just not sure I have an answer.”

  Oddly, it felt good talking about Evan. It felt good speaking honestly. Though he and his parents spoke plenty about Evan, there was always an edge in their conversation. They only told the happy stories. They only shared the fond memories. As though bringing up anything negative denigrated his brother’s memory. Not that anything could denigrate Evan’s memory with his parents.

  Evan had been full of life. When he’d gotten into trouble growing up, there was usually a wink and a nod with his punishment. For his senior prank, he’d stolen all the For Sale signs out of the neighborhood yards and planted them in the schoolyard. He’d been forced to return the signs. But he’d returned them with such a cheerful sense of fun that most of the homeowners had been amused instead of angry. It had been impossible not to like Evan, which had made his death all the more shattering.

  “I was watching my family fall apart,” Corbin said. The silence between them in the car was companionable, and he found he wanted to answer. “They didn’t take Evan’s death well. My mom was worried. Calling me every day. Crying. She didn’t even know I was working covert ops. She thought I was still sitting behind a desk. My dad was calling because my mom was upset. Then one day my nephew sent a letter. Asked if I was gonna die, too. I just couldn’t do it to them anymore. I didn’t love the job like I had in the beginning. I wanted to decide where I was going to live without someone handing me orders. The timing just seemed right. My commanding officer had retired a year before. He took a job stateside. Got me an interview. Here we are.”

  He’d been living in a fog following Evan’s death. He’d worked obsessively, but he was wading into a bottomless pit. There was so much evil in the world. So much suffering. The despair was seeping into his bones and turning him cynical. He’d had to get out while there was still some humanity left in him. He’d had to get out while he still believed there was good in people.

  He could have done his twenty years and pulled a full retirement; he was good at his job, and there was always another terrorist cell to track—but he hadn’t.

  What is it like, seeing everyone as a threat?

  It was lonely. Like always being the outsider.

  Beth adjusted her seat and leaned against the headrest. “That was an incredibly kind thing to do.”

  He grunted. “Not really. It was a way of covering up the fact that I was afraid. I was afraid I was going to make a mistake and get someone killed. Evan trusted the wrong person, and that mistake cost him his life.”

  Corbin had quit for reasons that had nothing to do with kindness. He was afraid he was going to make a decision that got an innocent killed.

  He’d quit because he was a coward.

  NINE

  Beth caught something in Corbin’s expression, in his voice, something that indicated a deeper meaning behind his words.

  “There’s nothing wrong with being afraid.” She adjusted her seat belt and turned toward him. “My dad was a Chicago policeman. He was a good cop. They put him in charge of training the younger recruits. He always said that he never trusted a recruit who wasn’t a little afraid. They were too reckless. They were too impulsive. He always thought a little fear kept a man alive.”

  “Your dad sounds like a good man,” Corbin said.

  “He was.” A wave of melancholy crashed over her. “I miss him.” She pressed her hand against the chilly window, and the glass fogged around her fingertips. “Were your brother’s killers brought to justice?”

  She’d always considered herself a loner, but lately she was starting to wonder if she understood her own nature. She was restless. Unsatisfied. Despite being an introvert, she craved a connection. She’d lost the two people in life who mattered most to her, and there was an empty space in her heart.

  “His killers were caught.” Corbin imbued the sentence with a wealth of meaning. “Evan had gotten a tip that a high-value target was holed up in a local village. His unit infiltrated with a small detail, afraid of alarming the man. The tip was a setup. His unit was ambushed.”

  Beth gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s a waste. All that suffering for one bad piece of intel.”

  One mistake. Life was both incredibly durable and incredibly fragile. They were all one mistake away from death at any given moment. One moment of distracted driving. One slip and fall. Time was a precious, valuable commodity, and one that she often took for granted.

  Was she doing good with the time she had? Was she honoring those whose time had been cut short? Was she honoring God with her life? She hadn’t let himself slow down long enough to answer those questions.

  He glanced at his phone and then at a street sign. “This is our exit.”

  After they turned off the interstate, traffic grew heavier. They left the city behind and entered the suburbs. Tidy houses lined the tree-lined streets. Hedges, dormant for the winter, were neatly trimmed. Cheerful painted signs pointed the way toward the Harvest Festival. As they neared the last turnoff, a line of cars stretched toward the parking lot.

  Beth tapped her foot on the floor and glanced behind them. “Popular place. Any updates on our two stalkers?”

  “No.” He glanced at his phone again. “I thought we’d hear something by now. In an abundance of caution, I alerted local security. Can’t hurt to have more eyes on the situation. Orders are not to approach, merely inform. I want information not an incident.”

  She hoped the news of the men’s arrests came soon. All they had to do was make it to Tuesday morning. On Tuesday morning, everyone would know the truth. They’d have the evidence. They’d have the proof. There’d be no reason to doubt her anymore.

  As Corbin followed the signs to the festival, the dubious suspension on the Honda bumped over the gravel road. A couple hundred cars filled the parking lot. Good cover to get lost in the crowd. Despite the heavy traffic, they managed to find a parking spot near the front entrance.

  Corbin dialed his phone and spoke for a few minutes before hanging up. “The plates were stolen. No good leads. Professionals.”

  “They also got their car impounded. That should slow them down.”

  He put the car in gear and rested his hands on the steering wheel. “This parking spot is good for a quick exit. Let’s hope we don’t need it.”

  “You don’t actually believe they could still be tracking us?” Beth snorted softly. “They don’t even have a car now. That must give us some leeway. You’ve alerted the security at the festival. You’ve alerted the local police.”

  “I let down my guard once,” he said. “I’m not making the same mistake twice.”

  She swiveled in her seat. “Then, what now?”

  “We’ll make a few rounds inside the event, then circle back to the car. On the off chance they’ve followed us this far, the misdirection should ditch them.”


  “I understand being cautious, but don’t see how they can be tracking us.” She made a sound of frustration, her hands strangling the air. “We’ve dumped everything.” Raising her foot, she gestured. “I even have on new socks. New socks. We’re driving a car that we bought this morning. How in the world can they be tracking us?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, appearing equally frustrated. “But something is tipping them off. Minneapolis is a big city, and they wound up at our hotel.”

  “Maybe they saw us leaving the restaurant last night. You said it yourself. There aren’t many places open at that time of night. All they had to do was stake out the bars that were within walking distance of the train station. It wouldn’t be impossible.”

  “This is my job. This is what I do for a living. All the proof tells me that we’ve ditched them. But I don’t know who else is out there. I don’t know what we’re dealing with. This place is filled with people, and there’s plenty of security. No one is going to try anything here. I’d feel better if we went with the original plan, even if it’s just an exercise in futility.”

  She tapped her fingers on the dash. “If you’re this worried, why don’t you simply turn me over to the FBI?”

  “At the risk of being blunt, they don’t want you. Without the evidence, you have nothing to offer. Once that email arrives, we’ll be in a position to negotiate.”

  “Then why don’t you turn me over to the police?” she asked quietly.

  “Because I’m afraid that’s exactly what these men want,” Corbin said. “They want to discredit you. They want to tear your world apart. I believe they’re laying the groundwork to frame you for embezzlement and maybe even murder. Once you’re in police custody, we lose bargaining power. We’ll be mired in the false charges for weeks before we can sort through the mess.”

  “But none of that should matter to you. You’ll have the email. You’ll have the proof. What difference does it make if I’m in a jail somewhere?”

  “You matter.” He took her hands in his warm clasp. “I believe you’re trying to do the right thing. I don’t want you to be hurt any more than necessary.”