Hindsight

Hindsight

Prologue

What makes a family?

This is the question I ask myself as I sit in the back of the black, nondescript SUV, feeling the miles disappear behind me and open up, seemingly endlessly, ahead of me. We’d already spent so much time in this car, traveled what seems like forever. One stop to sleep at a cheap motel, but I was still exhausted. Would I ever feel rested again?

So what makes a family? Most people would probably answer this question easily. I guess I used to be one of them. Let’s see...love, marriage, pregnancy, babies...family. Right? Sure. Of course, families come in less traditional ways, too. Sometimes the babies come before marriage, sometimes marriage never happens at all. I’m sure every single parent out there still considers themselves and their kids a family. Things like fertility treatments, adoption, and surrogacy, well, some families start that way, too.

I glance over at the sleeping child in the child restraint seat next to me. Henry, I think, rolling the name around inside my head. Not his real name, but I’d never get to utter that name out loud ever again. So he’s Henry now.

I consider my new reality, our reality. The fact that this child and I were now forever part of each other’s lives. And it’s funny because I never wanted to have children of my own. I mean, I love kids, sure. But being a nanny is so not the same as being a parent. At twenty-six years old, I’d spent the last four years perfectly content with being a very well-paid nanny for a few wealthy families, never even considering ever being a mom myself.

I looked at Henry again. He was two now and I’d been his nanny since he was born. I loved him. Totally and completely. But he wasn’t mine. How was I going to do this? How did a woman with no desire to have children suddenly step up and be a mom?

From the front seat Agent Fielder clears his throat. “Are you awake back there? Joy? We’re almost there.”

At first, I said nothing, then I remembered that I was Joy. Or at least I was now. “Um, yeah, I’m awake. Ju...Uh, Henry’s still sleeping.”

“Probably for the best,” Agent Fielder said. “He’s been through a lot.”

I nodded, even though the FBI agent couldn’t see it. “Haven’t we all?” I commented. “So where, exactly, is ‘there,’ anyway? We’ve been driving for so long.”

“I’ll give you all the details as soon as we’re settled,” he said. “Maybe fifteen minutes, we’ll arrive. For tonight, you just need to rest. We’ll start the real work of getting you settled tomorrow.”

I laid my head back against the seat, too exhausted to sleep. I didn’t know if I’d ever sleep again.

So what makes a family? Sometimes blood, pain, tragedy, and necessity. That’s the case for Henry and me. Or at least that’s what we were going to find out.

Chapter One

I remember thinking what a tightly wound, arrogant prick Agent Luke Fielder was when we first met two years ago. All business, never cracking a smile, striding into our hotel room with two U.S. Marshals like he owned the place.

“Don’t worry about any supplies. Bring a couple of diapers,” he instructed. “Any other necessities can be picked up on the way or after we reach the destination.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” I didn’t like his attitude. At all.

“Special Agent Luke Fielder, FBI.” Short, clipped words as he flashed his I.D.

“FBI?” I turned to one of the U.S. Marshals. “Why do we need the FBI? Everyone knows what happened. You said this case was cut and dried.” I was confused. Even I knew the FBI didn’t get involved in your average homicide unless it was the work of a suspected serial killer. That’s not what was going on here. Xander had been apprehended at the scene of the crime with the weapon in his possession and traces of gunpowder on his hands, and my statement told the story.

“Ms. Berkeley,” Marshal Bentley began, “Agent Fielder is going to help us get you to your new location. He’s an expert in assisting victims with the transition. With the threats that Mr. Laughlin, Xander, made towards you and the child, we want to cover all our bases.”

“I’m told the child stands to inherit quite a sum, upwards of five mil,” Agent Fielder added. “Laughlin indicated he has connections to carry out his threats. We’re going to take this seriously.”

“I know why we’re being placed in WitSec.” I was irritated by this guy. “So whatever has to be done, as long as you don’t separate us, fine. I’m the legal guardian, and I’m not letting him out of my sight.” There was a suggestion early on that Justin and I be separated, that Justin should go into foster care. I freaked out, really freaked out, and the idea was quickly dropped.

“Great. Now, get the diapers so we can get you out of here.”

“Babies need more than diapers,” I said simply. Justin had just turned two, so he technically wasn’t a baby anymore. But still. “They need to feel secure and comforted. This is the blanket he’s had since his birth. We take it.”

Agent Fielder looked at me cooly. “Fine,” he said. “But we need to move. Quickly.”

I stared back at him, just as cooly. “I realize your the expert in this mess I’m in, but I’m this child’s nanny. I’ve known him since he was born. This is my area of expertise. I’ll bring whatever the fuck I need to bring.”

“Ms. Berkeley,” he said sternly. “I’m here to help you. I can promise you there’s no one better. I’ll keep you and the child safe, but you need to listen to me and trust me. I know how to do this job.”

“JUSTIN!!” Veins were pulsing in my temples. “His name is Justin!”

Agent Fielder looked at me calmly. “Not anymore.”

I was leaving my identity, Claire Berkeley, behind, and Justin Graves would never be Justin Graves again. And that’s how we became Joy Renee and Henry Charles Wheeler. Just like that.

*****

I stepped out the hotel room to get a bit of air. This woman...the man in me recognized her beauty. It was one of those natural, girl-next-door kind of things. Long brown hair (that she’d have to dye), big brown eyes with thick lashes (we’d probably suggest contact lenses), peaches and cream complexion, full lips. She was sexy as hell, too, with long legs and a lithe figure. She didn’t seem to know she was beautiful or sexy, which only accentuated both. I wasn’t worried about any of that--I was a professional. Yeah, I noticed because I’m a man.

I was most worried about the fact she was going to be a pain in the ass. I’d been working undercover assignments like this for a few years, and I was used to victims and witnesses being jumpy and scared. Most of them were also pretty happy to have me around. I hadn’t lied, I was the best there was at this job. Her behavior so far promised she would challenge me every chance she got.

I was pissed that Claire Berkeley, who was now Joy Wheeler, was giving me a hard time about the supplies we needed to bring. She didn’t seem to get the urgency here. A murderer had threatened her life and the child’s. We needed to get them out of here ASAP. A fucking blanket? She was busting my balls over a blanket?

I took some deep breaths, ran my hand through my hair, willing myself to calm down. It was rare for a witness, or anyone else, to get to me like this. I reminded myself she’d just been through a pretty major trauma, in more ways than one. I’d try to cut her some slack, but she was going to listen to me.

I sighed, wondering if the career in accounting my mom had suggested when I was fifteen would’ve been a better path for me. I headed back to the room to move her along and get us all on the road.

*****

I couldn’t say exactly how or when the relationship between Agent Fielder and me began to change, but I know it was very gradual. He did ease up a little after he’d read our case file. Once he knew how vulnerable I’d been with Xander, he started handling me differently. I didn’t like him, I still thought he was an arrogant prick, and I didn’t start to trust him until we got the news that Xander had escaped.

It was about two weeks after we’d arrived in the small rural Missouri town that was to be our home. Henry and I were settled into the mostly furnished safe house, and Agent Fielder was preparing to end his time with us.

He’d gotten us safely to our destination and helped me understand what changing my identity would mean. I was preparing to start searching for a job when he arrived at the little house and delivered the news.

“There’s been a development,” he said, all business as usual. “With Laughlin.”

It took me a second to remember that Laughlin was Xander. “What do you mean?” I asked, filled with panic.

“He was being transferred to a maximum security facility, and there was an accident involving the transport vehicle. The guards were killed. Laughlin wasn’t at the scene, and he’s not been apprehended. Yet.”

I sat down hard on a kitchen chair. Constricted lungs, closing throat, I couldn’t breathe. I’d been averaging four to five panic attacks a week, and between everything I’d been through with Xander, being placed in WitSec, and suddenly being a mother, I was pretty much a mess all the time.

Agent Fielder placed his hands on his hips, his face stern and blew air between his pursed lips. “Joy, first of all, there’s no need to freak out. And second of all, we don’t have time for it. Pull it together.”

“Fuck you,” I managed.

He sighed and sat down across from me. “Look at me,” he instructed. “Focus on me. Now take a breath. Good. Now another.”

And he sat with me, reminding me how to breathe. That was maybe the first time I actually saw him as a human being and not the asshole FBI agent I’d known for the last few weeks.

“Thanks,” I said softly when the worst of the panic had subsided.

He nodded curtly. “Now, can we discuss what’s going to happen?”

“Do we have to move again?”

“No, at least not yet,” he said. “Laughlin is most likely injured and won’t get far. He doesn’t know where you are. No one knows where you are.”

I knew that only too well. I’d contacted my parents right after everything had happened, had been in touch with them everyday until Xander’s threats. I guess my loose plan had been to take Justin with me back to Colorado, but when our safety had come into question and we were placed into WitSec, I’d had to cut off all communication with my family. Not even they knew where I was. Or who I was.

“So what’s next?” I asked. “There must be a reason you’re telling me about Xander escaping. Since my panic attacks piss you off so much.”

Agent Fielder rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t piss me off,” he said. “It’s just counterproductive. The reason I’m telling you is because the plan has changed now. I won’t be leaving.”

“What do you mean? You said yesterday your part of this was finished. That you had another job waiting.”

“I’ve decided this is more important. You and Henry are safe but the Marshals and I, along with my superiors, feel it would be better if I stay here. At least until Laughlin—Xander, is caught. It’s not because we think either of you are in imminent danger. But you’re still... shaky, all the way around. Knowing the guy’s out there, it’s going to make it harder for you to act...normal. And that’s the most important thing when your in the program. You have to blend in. I can help make sure you do.”

It might have been the longest series of words he’d ever spoken to me. “And if you find out Xander is headed in our direction?”

“I’ll have you out of here immediately. My job is not just to help you through this transition. It’s also to keep you and Henry safe. And I told you. I’m the best there is.”

Arrogant prick, I thought. “So you’re staying,” I said.

“For as long as I need to,” he said, nodding.

“Okay,” I said. “Now, I need to look for a job, so if you’re finished?”

He just looked at me for a moment. “I’ll be at the hotel. Call if you need anything.”

“I need to buy some groceries,” I said. “All the fast food and pizza isn’t good for us. It’s not healthy. Can you help with that?”

“It’s better not to be in public too much right now,” he told me. It wasn’t the first time. “A few more days of take out won’t kill either of you. You need to get more familiar with your backstory.”

“You need to decide if you want me to act normal or like some weird recluse who never leaves her home. Normal people go to the grocery store and buy food and supplies. Normal people don’t eat Big Macs and Whoppers and loaded pizzas everyday. Please. I need your help. It’s important to me.”

He closed his eyes but shrugged. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll look into it. I’ll be back within the hour. Is Henry sleeping?”

“Yes.” He’d been sleeping a lot. Agent Fielder and the U.S. Marshals had assured me it was to be expected, even cathartic, but I was worried.

“Wake him in thirty minutes. We’ll leave as soon as I get back. Make a list so the trip is as efficient as possible.”

I gave him a nasty look but didn’t care. “Yes sir,” I said sarcastically. “And I think I know how to grocery shop. But thanks for the tip.”

“Joy, this whole process would be a lot easier on all of us if you’d just trust me to do the job.”

“It might also be more pleasant if you pulled that enormous stick out of your ass.”

His face flushed with anger, but he simply turned and headed towards the door. “One hour,” he said over his shoulder. “And lock this door behind me.”

I saluted him then flipped him off. Of course he couldn’t see because I did it behind his back. I didn’t like him. But I was grateful he was staying. He did seem to know what he was doing.