Page 15 of Witness Security Breach

“Then how did someone find him?” Sharon asked.

“Yeah, I’d like to know that, too,” Eugene demanded.

A fellow deputy in their field office had compromised the US Marshals Service. He’d accepted a bribe and handed over a classified Department of Justice laptop to the Los Chacales cartel. In turn, the cartel used the laptop to breach the Pacific Coast WITSEC list, along with the personal information of every marshal in California.

The ultimate betrayal of a colleague.

Justice was being served to the traitor, but the ripples of his treason spread far and wide and deep. The cartel was now selling the sensitive information piecemeal.

Edgar Plinski wasn’t the first with a bounty on his head and he wouldn’t be the last. If the truth got out, panic and turmoil would infect every witness in the program like a disease.

Containing the news of the breach was crucial.

“The most important thing at the moment, Sharon, is the decision you’re facing,” Charlie said, doing her best to spin their attention in a different direction. “Very dangerous men know where your husband lives and about his current life. Which means they know about you, too. The only way we’re authorized to protect you is if you choose to relocate with him, start over. New name. New history. No further contact with anyone that you know now.”

Sharon gasped.

“We’re taking you both to the Safe Site and Protection Center,” Aiden said, “where you two will be able to talk and think in a safe environment. If you decide not to relocate with your husband, we’ll take you to a relative’s where you can stay, but you need to understand that unless you’re in the program, we can’t protect you.”

Tension edged with fear radiated from the third row. The silence was agonizing because it was temporary. Charlie had never faced this particular scenario, where a witness had to be relocated a second time after marrying someone who had no clue he was in the program, but she guessed that any minute now there’d be weeping or screaming or both.

“What have you gotten me into?” Sharon’s voice was brittle. Pained. “How could you put me in danger?”

“I was supposed to be safe and so were you.” Her husband ran his palms down her arms. “I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“Oh, Eugene.” Sharon sobbed. “Is that even your real name?” she asked in a sorrowful whisper.

A crease formed between his eyes. He looked down, silent for several seconds. “It feels like my real name, but no, sweetheart.”

“Who are you?”

“Edgar Plinski.”

“Why are you in witness protection? Did you see a murder or some other crime?”

His shoulders slumped. “Something like that.”

“You know how the program works,” Aiden said, turning in his seat and facing the couple. “At the SSPC, the marshals are required to let her read your file. She has to know the truth so she can make an informed decision. That’s how it works. Total honesty about who you really are and the things you did when a spouse is considering relocation. It’s the only way to have a successful transition for all parties, whether you stay together or go down separate paths, where you never see each other again.”

Brutal truth delivered in an environment where witnesses were on strict lockdown in forced proximity sounded like a recipe for murder, in Charlie’s book. But managing the messy emotions of others wasn’t her forte.

She barely dealt with her own. Better to tamp it all down, keep people at a distance.

Even Aiden. The one person in the world she was closest to.

“Eugene, were you some kind of criminal?” Sharon asked. “Or should I call you Edgar?”

“I prefer Eugene.” He raised his head. His throat bobbed on a nervous swallow. “I was an accountant. I didn’t set out to be a criminal. I got roped into a bad situation. One thing led to another and I found myself getting deeper and deeper, until I felt like there was no way out. At least not alive.”

A situation where he was complicit in tax fraud, sex trafficking, drug dealing, racketeering. The sordid laundry list was long, and Sharon would see every dirty detail at the SSPC.

“You lied to me. About everything,” Sharon said. “Were any of the stories you told me about your past even true? Do you love me? Or were you using me to create your new identity?”

Eugene gaped at her and then snapped his mouth closed. He cleared his throat, a strangled noise that sounded as though he was choking on the answers.

Oh, hell. Not that Charlie had sympathy for criminals, but this predicament wasn’t Eugene’s fault. “He had to lie,” Charlie said, throwing him a lifeline, hoping to defuse this inconvenient distraction. “It’s part of the program. He wasn’t allowed to tell you.”

The tension started to deflate, and Charlie swallowed a sigh of relief, turning her focus on the road. No cars ahead in either direction. In the side mirror, the stretch of road behind them was clear to the bend, where she lost visibility farther back.