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Authors: Debby Giusti
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murder?” Clay asked.
“I never said that. Carlie wasn’t killed because of the man she put in jail, but because of her green eyes and her participation in the Witness Protection Program.”
“And green eyes are important because—?”
“Because Eloise Hill has green eyes. Years ago, when she testified against Salvatore Martino, her photo was in all the newspapers. I tracked down various stories in the archives. One of them mentioned her green eyes.”
Violet had also learned Eloise had a child named Kristin, although she doubted the baby had any relevance to what happened in Montana. Violet decided to reveal what she’d learned about Clay.
“From what I found, your parents were killed in an auto accident. No relatives to take in their only child.”
“No relatives willing to take in their only child,” he corrected, frustration now evident in his voice.
“You were thirteen when you entered the Southside Foster Home and remained there for five years.”
“I aged out at eighteen.”
“Eloise was one of the other teens.”
Clay nodded. “She was a few years older. For some reason, she decided to help the new kid settle in. Once I was Eloise’s friend, the other kids accepted me.”
“Testifying against Salvatore Martino forced her into Witness Protection.”
“That’s right.” Clay nodded. “And her courage to goup against the Chicago don made me realize I wanted to work in law enforcement. Someone has to draw a line in the sand and say what’s right and what’s wrong or the bad guys win.”
Violet shook her head ever so slightly. “You’ve known all along Eloise was the reason the Martino thugs killed the two women in Montana.”
His lips twitched seductively. “Yeah, but I needed to find out how much you knew. You did your homework, Violet. Where’d you get the information?”
“A source who might be in danger.”
“The woman at the coffee shop?” he asked.
Violet held up her hand. “I won’t tell you anything until I talk to someone about getting her into the Witness Protection Program. I left a message with the U.S. Marshals office in Billings. Unfortunately, no one called me back.”
“Earlier you mentioned Deputy Marshal Micah McGraw. I know his brother. Jackson McGraw is the FBI Special Agent-in-Charge of the Chicago office.”
“Tell him I want protection for a woman associated with the mob.”
Clay’s brow furrowed. “I told you to be careful, Violet. We talked about how you are in danger. The Mafia doesn’t play around.”
“And what about other women who might be in danger? Shouldn’t they be warned? At least they’d know the Mafia could be closing in if they read the article I’m writing, which exposes what’s happening in this state.”
“Printing something in the paper would blow the FBI operation and could endanger those already in Witness Protection.”
“No, Clay, I’d be helping, not hurting their attempts to skirt the mob.”
He sighed. “You’re only seeing one side of the picture.”
“And you’re only interested in the side that affects you. What happened in Chicago that landed you in trouble? The way I heard it you pummeled a onetime pimp until backup arrived. You two had a history, only I couldn’t find out what or who was involved.”
Clay clamped down on his jaw.
She waited for him to respond. Maybe she’d gone too far.
He sat for a moment, staring at the fire. Finally, he grabbed their mugs off the coffee table and stood.
“It’s late and you have to work tomorrow. I’ll get my coat.” He took the mugs to the kitchen then walked to the back of the house. A door closed.
A few seconds later, Violet’s phone rang. She pulled the cell from her purse and lifted it to her ear, hearing a sharp intake of breath before the connection died.
A Chicago area code but not the number Gwyn had used the night before last. Violet hit the call back button. Before anyone answered, Clay returned to the living room, coat in
“I never said that. Carlie wasn’t killed because of the man she put in jail, but because of her green eyes and her participation in the Witness Protection Program.”
“And green eyes are important because—?”
“Because Eloise Hill has green eyes. Years ago, when she testified against Salvatore Martino, her photo was in all the newspapers. I tracked down various stories in the archives. One of them mentioned her green eyes.”
Violet had also learned Eloise had a child named Kristin, although she doubted the baby had any relevance to what happened in Montana. Violet decided to reveal what she’d learned about Clay.
“From what I found, your parents were killed in an auto accident. No relatives to take in their only child.”
“No relatives willing to take in their only child,” he corrected, frustration now evident in his voice.
“You were thirteen when you entered the Southside Foster Home and remained there for five years.”
“I aged out at eighteen.”
“Eloise was one of the other teens.”
Clay nodded. “She was a few years older. For some reason, she decided to help the new kid settle in. Once I was Eloise’s friend, the other kids accepted me.”
“Testifying against Salvatore Martino forced her into Witness Protection.”
“That’s right.” Clay nodded. “And her courage to goup against the Chicago don made me realize I wanted to work in law enforcement. Someone has to draw a line in the sand and say what’s right and what’s wrong or the bad guys win.”
Violet shook her head ever so slightly. “You’ve known all along Eloise was the reason the Martino thugs killed the two women in Montana.”
His lips twitched seductively. “Yeah, but I needed to find out how much you knew. You did your homework, Violet. Where’d you get the information?”
“A source who might be in danger.”
“The woman at the coffee shop?” he asked.
Violet held up her hand. “I won’t tell you anything until I talk to someone about getting her into the Witness Protection Program. I left a message with the U.S. Marshals office in Billings. Unfortunately, no one called me back.”
“Earlier you mentioned Deputy Marshal Micah McGraw. I know his brother. Jackson McGraw is the FBI Special Agent-in-Charge of the Chicago office.”
“Tell him I want protection for a woman associated with the mob.”
Clay’s brow furrowed. “I told you to be careful, Violet. We talked about how you are in danger. The Mafia doesn’t play around.”
“And what about other women who might be in danger? Shouldn’t they be warned? At least they’d know the Mafia could be closing in if they read the article I’m writing, which exposes what’s happening in this state.”
“Printing something in the paper would blow the FBI operation and could endanger those already in Witness Protection.”
“No, Clay, I’d be helping, not hurting their attempts to skirt the mob.”
He sighed. “You’re only seeing one side of the picture.”
“And you’re only interested in the side that affects you. What happened in Chicago that landed you in trouble? The way I heard it you pummeled a onetime pimp until backup arrived. You two had a history, only I couldn’t find out what or who was involved.”
Clay clamped down on his jaw.
She waited for him to respond. Maybe she’d gone too far.
He sat for a moment, staring at the fire. Finally, he grabbed their mugs off the coffee table and stood.
“It’s late and you have to work tomorrow. I’ll get my coat.” He took the mugs to the kitchen then walked to the back of the house. A door closed.
A few seconds later, Violet’s phone rang. She pulled the cell from her purse and lifted it to her ear, hearing a sharp intake of breath before the connection died.
A Chicago area code but not the number Gwyn had used the night before last. Violet hit the call back button. Before anyone answered, Clay returned to the living room, coat in
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