Chapter 19 #2
After Carlsson moved the chair closer to the bed, he leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs. “I know this is asking a lot of you, Aubrey”—he glanced over at Ethan, who nodded—“but the US attorney will need you to testify at the trials for Howard and Donovan.”
It was as if someone had stuck a cold, icy blade in her heart. She inhaled sharply, the pain of betrayal and fear threatening to overwhelm her like a tsunami. She looked out the small window and shook her head.
“I don’t know if I can go through that again.” She swallowed back the bile rising in her throat.
“You won’t be alone. I’ll be there.” Ethan sat on the edge of the bed. “And if I need to, I can testify as well. Add my statement.”
Carlsson nodded. “You’ll have to testify.”
Ethan angled his body toward Aubrey and lifted her chin with two fingers. “Hey now, I’m going to be right there with you.” He tipped his head toward Carlsson. “We’re going to debrief you first, and then we’ll discuss what we need to do next.”
The icy fear running through her veins thawed. “I don’t look forward to testifying. It’s not high on my bucket list to go through that again. But I’m not the same person I was.”
Over the years, the emotional trauma from testifying twenty years ago had affected how she saw the world and the decisions she’d made.
Aubrey looked at the window, covered with vertical blinds.
A few days ago, she hadn’t thought she would be strong enough if she were ever confronted by Donovan again.
She’d mourned the loss of her family’s support.
How could she have overlooked her coworkers at the Marshals office and Jenna?
The people she loved, and who loved her, were here in Renegade, and all she had to do was ask.
They were her family.
“Aubrey.” Ethan dipped his head to look in her eyes. “Hey, look at me. Please?”
She slowly turned to face him and squinted in the brilliant morning light coming through the window of her room.
“I know you’ve been through a lot the past couple of days. You’re scared. But we need your testimony to put these guys away for good. But I’m also going to make sure that I get enough evidence so that this case is a slam dunk. Then there might be a chance you don’t have to do it.”
She felt her resolve slowly returning, like a phoenix rising from the ashes. “If I have to, I can.”
Ethan gave her a tender smile that melted her insides. “I promise, you won’t be alone. You’ll be protected. You are a survivor.”
She drew a shaky breath. “I’m scared,” she admitted. Then she lifted her chin, just a little. “But I won’t let fear control me anymore.”
He gently squeezed her hand. “That’s right. Besides, I don’t think the Lord wants us to simply survive. He wants us to live a full and abundant life.” His expression became somber. “Are you ready? For the next chapter of your life?”
She swallowed back the fear. “God’s going to have to help me.”
“He will.” The confidence in Ethan’s tone soothed her frazzled nerves. He lifted her clasped hands and kissed the backs. “I know from experience.”
“I’d like that same confidence.”
“It’s my confidence in God, my faith. Believe me, it doesn’t come easy since I’m not one to trust, but it’s worth it.”
She stared out the window a moment, resolve surging through her. With God’s help and Ethan at her side, she could testify, overcome her fears. She looked at the men and nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
Carlsson nodded once and hit record. Ethan held her hand while she detailed her experience on the mountain and at the cabin with Rousseau, Howard, Frost, and Donovan.
She was tired of running, of not trusting.
But Ethan had proven to her multiple times that he was trustworthy.
And he served a God who was worthy of her faith and trust.
Faith in God. His word and promises. Yes, she would have difficult times ahead, but with Ethan by her side, she knew she didn’t have to run away from God’s promises but toward them.
He hated to leave Aubrey, but she was in good hands at the hospital. And he’d left Albright outside her room, just as a precaution. He wasn’t taking any chances with Aubrey’s life.
Ethan parked his truck in the afternoon courthouse shade. After passing through security, he scanned his Marshals badge and descended into the basement of the courthouse, where they kept holding cells.
He paused as he stepped out of the elevator and into the intake area, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dimmer lighting. Hank Green, the oldest member of the US Marshals team in Renegade, sat in front of the holding cells, feet propped up on the desk, reading a muscle car magazine.
“How is our guest tonight, Hank?” Ethan leaned against the desk, arms crossed.
Both men glanced back at the cells to the lone figure sitting on the metal bench, head cradled in his hands. “Oh, he’s touchy. Won’t speak to anyone.” Hank dropped his feet to the floor. “You sure you want to talk to Howard?”
“Yeah. I just have a few questions for him.”
Hank buzzed Ethan through the gate and leaned in. “Watch yourself. He’s shifty.”
“I will.” Ethan clasped Hank’s shoulder and squeezed. “You’re good man, Hank. We’ll miss you when you retire.”
Hank smiled, the deep lines around his eyes crinkling. “That means a lot.”
Ethan’s footsteps echoed against the concrete floor. He pulled a chair closer to the bars, sat, and stretched out his legs.
Howard looked up, frowned, and then turned his back toward Ethan. “Are you here to gloat?”
“Nope.” Ethan crossed his arms. “Just have a few questions.”
Howard barked out a laugh. “Right.”
A tense silence fell over the small area, the buzz of a fluorescent light the only sound. Howard shifted on the metal bench, finally sitting up. The men stared at each other.
Ethan straightened and focused his attention on the defeated man. A guy who’d had a long career with the Marshals. “Tell me why, Howard. Why jeopardize your career and pension?”
“Ah, yes. The great dilemma. Always doing the right thing, Mr. By-the-Book Butler.”
“Well, it works for me.”
Howard let out a harsh snort. “Don’t you ever get tired of it, Butler?
Protecting criminals who’ve got more money than we’ll ever see?
They live like kings until they get sloppy, cut a deal, and suddenly we’re risking our lives to keep their sorry hides safe.
” His mouth twisted. “You know what I could do with the money they move?”
“So that’s it. You sold us out for their money. Integrity didn’t even factor in.” Ethan rose and paced in front of the bars. “Where’s Rousseau?”
Howard smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He stepped forward until their faces were only inches apart. “I don’t know.”
Ethan caught the wild look in Howard’s eyes. “You don’t know, or you don’t want to tell me?”
Howard shrugged. “Maybe a little bit of both. Seriously, I was just doing this for the money. Roger is probably halfway around the world now, in some country that doesn’t have an extradition treaty with the United States.”
“When did Rousseau first contact you?”
Howard sighed. “Ages ago. Who cares? Somehow, he knew I had money troubles and used that against me.”
“Money.”
“My wife cleaned me out. I’ve got two kids in college.
I’m desperate.” Howard pivoted away from Ethan, paced the confines of his cell, and raked his fingers through his hair.
“Rousseau and his buddy Frost offered a lot of money. Enough that I could retire from the Marshals and be comfortable the rest of my life.”
“Hey, man, you could’ve asked for help.” Ethan lightly gripped the cold bars, trying to make a connection, help Howard understand.
Howard ceased his pacing and stared at the cinderblock wall. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Butler. You say you’re a Christian, but you never once reached out to me.”
The truth of Howard’s statement hit Ethan squarely in his chest. Regret rolled through him, and he stepped away. “You’re right. I was so caught up in my own problems that I failed to see you were going through something as well.” Ethan had to make Howard understand. “I’m sorry.”
“A little late for regrets now, isn’t it?” Howard dropped to the bench, his tortured gaze boring into Ethan. “For both of us.”
“It’s never too late.”
“Don’t preach to me, Butler. I’m too far gone. Too caught up in the underworld.” Howard sighed. “No matter what protection I’m given, I’ll be dead the second I reach prison.”
“No one is too far from God’s love.”
Howard paused a moment, looked at Ethan with something akin to hope, then it disappeared in a flash. “I wish…” Howard shook his head. “I wish I could believe like you.”
“You can. All you have to do is—”
“Enough.” Howard held up a hand and moved away to the farthest corner of the cell. “Hank! Come get my guest.”
“One more thing before I leave.” Ethan pulled out a business card, wrote his personal cell phone number on it, and handed it to Howard.
“I know it’s not much, but if you want to talk, I’ll listen.
And if you happen to remember where Rousseau is, call me.
I’ll talk to the prosecutor in charge. It might help you if you turn state’s evidence. ”
Howard tentatively reached for the card, and Ethan held on before releasing his grip. “I mean it. I’m not saying this as a marshal but as a friend. Reach out.”
“Thanks.” Howard stuffed the card into his shirt pocket. “Now, if you don’t mind, I think it’s almost time for my chaperone to show up and take me back to DC for trial.” Howard stretched out on the bench, hands pillowing his head.
“I’ll be praying for you.”
Howard ignored Ethan, and Ethan shook his head. If only…Those two words would eat him alive if he dwelled on them.
Hank buzzed Ethan out of the secure holding area.