warm air blowing through handy wall vents.”
Alyson took a bite of her waffle, chewing slowly to enjoy the sweet flavor. “Are the workmen coming by today?”
“Yes,” Mom answered. “They should have the heater installed and the first-floor remodel done in a couple of weeks. I thought I’d go into Portland this week to start shopping for wallpaper and paint. I’m hoping to get the furniture ordered in time for delivery before Thanksgiving. It would be so nice to have our living space all decorated before the holidays.”
“Just be sure to order a comfy couch,” Alyson requested. “I hate stiff couches that give you a backache when you sit on them.”
“The room is so big, I’m thinking about getting a three-piece sectional that forms a U facing the fireplace. A couple of end tables, a large coffee table, some lamps, maybe a chair or two for each side of the fireplace. Should do for a start.”
Alyson’s mom took a sip of her coffee. “And I want to see if I can find a nice long dining table. I’d love to find an antique one that seats at least twelve. Actually, I was thinking about taking a trip down the coast to go antiquing. Want to come? We could make a weekend out of it.”
“Sounds like fun. But this weekend is the haunted hayride; maybe the week after that. I’ll let you know,” Alyson answered.
Mom got up and began loading the dishwasher. “I talked to Donovan this morning.”
Donovan was the handler assigned to Alyson and her mother when they entered the witness protection program.
“It seems like it’s a bit early in the morning for a phone call,” Alyson commented.
“As brilliant as he is I think he forgets about the East Coast versus West Coast time difference.”
“We both know he wouldn’t have called if something wasn’t up.” Alyson pushed her unfinished breakfast to the center of the table. “So what is it? Has Clay Bonatello been spotted in Cutter’s Cove or something?”
Clay Bonatello was one of the two brothers Alyson had seen murdering a man execution style. The brothers, from a powerful Mob family, had thus far managed to escape arrest. Alyson knew the brothers were looking for her, but she tried to keep that knowledge filed in the back of her mind, where it wouldn’t interfere with her mission to build a new life.
“No, nothing like that. It seems someone stole your file. Don’t worry,” Mom sat down on the chair next to Alyson’s as panic filled her face, “the file they stole was a fake one planted by Donovan. Our cover is secure. He just wanted to let me know what happened because it verifies our suspicion that the Bonatellos haven’t completely bought the story of your untimely death.”
“They’re never going to stop looking for us, are they?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the fact that the file they stole reinforces the story Donovan created for us will put the matter to rest once and for all.”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever feel safe.” Alyson sighed.
“When Donovan put us in witness protection he promised he’d look out for us. He promised we’d be safe. We have to trust that; we have to trust him.”
“Yeah, I guess. I’m sorry I got you into this.”
“Oh, honey, don’t blame yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m very proud of you. Things are going to work out. Now, you’d better get going or you’ll be late to school.”
Alyson parked the Jeep her mom had bought her just a few weeks earlier in the last row of student parking. She really was going to have to get an earlier start, especially on rainy days. The trek to the weathered school building had been a long and soggy one. Stepping out of the warmth of the car, she quickly raised her umbrella against the increasing downpour. Sloshing through the puddles that had formed on the parking lot concrete, she made her way toward her first-period classroom.
“Some weather today,” she said to no one in particular as she took her seat on the tall stool next to
Alyson took a bite of her waffle, chewing slowly to enjoy the sweet flavor. “Are the workmen coming by today?”
“Yes,” Mom answered. “They should have the heater installed and the first-floor remodel done in a couple of weeks. I thought I’d go into Portland this week to start shopping for wallpaper and paint. I’m hoping to get the furniture ordered in time for delivery before Thanksgiving. It would be so nice to have our living space all decorated before the holidays.”
“Just be sure to order a comfy couch,” Alyson requested. “I hate stiff couches that give you a backache when you sit on them.”
“The room is so big, I’m thinking about getting a three-piece sectional that forms a U facing the fireplace. A couple of end tables, a large coffee table, some lamps, maybe a chair or two for each side of the fireplace. Should do for a start.”
Alyson’s mom took a sip of her coffee. “And I want to see if I can find a nice long dining table. I’d love to find an antique one that seats at least twelve. Actually, I was thinking about taking a trip down the coast to go antiquing. Want to come? We could make a weekend out of it.”
“Sounds like fun. But this weekend is the haunted hayride; maybe the week after that. I’ll let you know,” Alyson answered.
Mom got up and began loading the dishwasher. “I talked to Donovan this morning.”
Donovan was the handler assigned to Alyson and her mother when they entered the witness protection program.
“It seems like it’s a bit early in the morning for a phone call,” Alyson commented.
“As brilliant as he is I think he forgets about the East Coast versus West Coast time difference.”
“We both know he wouldn’t have called if something wasn’t up.” Alyson pushed her unfinished breakfast to the center of the table. “So what is it? Has Clay Bonatello been spotted in Cutter’s Cove or something?”
Clay Bonatello was one of the two brothers Alyson had seen murdering a man execution style. The brothers, from a powerful Mob family, had thus far managed to escape arrest. Alyson knew the brothers were looking for her, but she tried to keep that knowledge filed in the back of her mind, where it wouldn’t interfere with her mission to build a new life.
“No, nothing like that. It seems someone stole your file. Don’t worry,” Mom sat down on the chair next to Alyson’s as panic filled her face, “the file they stole was a fake one planted by Donovan. Our cover is secure. He just wanted to let me know what happened because it verifies our suspicion that the Bonatellos haven’t completely bought the story of your untimely death.”
“They’re never going to stop looking for us, are they?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the fact that the file they stole reinforces the story Donovan created for us will put the matter to rest once and for all.”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever feel safe.” Alyson sighed.
“When Donovan put us in witness protection he promised he’d look out for us. He promised we’d be safe. We have to trust that; we have to trust him.”
“Yeah, I guess. I’m sorry I got you into this.”
“Oh, honey, don’t blame yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m very proud of you. Things are going to work out. Now, you’d better get going or you’ll be late to school.”
Alyson parked the Jeep her mom had bought her just a few weeks earlier in the last row of student parking. She really was going to have to get an earlier start, especially on rainy days. The trek to the weathered school building had been a long and soggy one. Stepping out of the warmth of the car, she quickly raised her umbrella against the increasing downpour. Sloshing through the puddles that had formed on the parking lot concrete, she made her way toward her first-period classroom.
“Some weather today,” she said to no one in particular as she took her seat on the tall stool next to
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