Page 6 of Safeguarding the Witness

“Effective.”

“Like Dad, I only use cheapo burner phones. And that one was almost out of minutes. Anything else?”

“Do you wear a tracker tag, a smart ring or a watch that connects you to the internet?”

She wiggled her arms and fingers in the air. “I’m not hooked up to anything. And I don’t have an implanted chip so WITSEC can monitor my movements.”

He wondered if an implanted chip had been suggested to her. WITSEC wasn’t usually so restrictive with the people they protected. The program was voluntary, after all. If Mollie or her dad wanted out, all they had to do was ask. “How much self-defense training have you had?”

“I know how to load, aim and fire. My dad is kind of a gun nut, and he taught me about weapons when I was a kid. I go to the shooting range twice a month. I wouldn’t call myself an expert, but I do okay.”

“Do you own a gun?”

She nodded, adding that both she and her father kept their handguns in a safe. Then she rattled off a list of other weapons, including stun guns, Tasers, Mace and pepper spray. “I have my own recipe for pepper spray using cayenne and habanero. I never learned to bake cookies with my aunt Irma, but Dad taught me how to mix up a solution that’ll burn your face off.”

“Are you carrying pepper spray with you right now?”

She dug into the pocket of her shorts, grabbed the small canister and held it up. “Ta-da!”

Considering himself lucky that she hadn’t blasted him when they first met, Spence turned onto the airport road, then navigated through office buildings, small terminals and the air traffic control tower to a monitored parking lot outside the hangar used by the private jet service based in Salem. Though he hadn’t expected to run into trouble in Denver, he always took precautions, especially when he was acting as a bodyguard. “I’ll exit the car first, then come around and escort you into the lounge area inside the hangar.”

“You think I’m in danger? Because of the guys with guns?”

“A reasonable assumption,” he said.

“Maybe, but I’ve never seen those guys before. It’s not like they’ve been stalking me, and I’m good at watching for those things. Dad taught me, and I’ve taken classes on how to protect myself. I’m hyper-alert…usually. Well-prepared.”

Her cautious bravado endeared her to him. Spence hoped she wasn’t exaggerating too much. “Is this the first time you’ve been threatened?”

“First time in Denver. Four years ago in Texas, we got in the middle of an upsurge in cartel violence when two gangs went after each other.”

He sensed there was more to the story. “What happened to you and your father?”

“We were followed. Somebody broke into our house, slashed our tires. But we weren’t confronted by armed men. Actually, the gangs did more harm to each other than to us.”

In his opinion, WITSEC made a mistake when they placed a whistleblower like Mollie’s father in Texas where drug cartels were more active. “Where did you go after that?”

“Salt Lake City. Everything was okay until three years ago when I got a couple of weird phone calls.”

She shook herself as if to shed the unpleasant memories, but he wasn’t ready to drop the subject. “Tell me about the calls.”

“No big deal.”

“Tell me anyway.”

She huffed a sigh. “Okay, these calls were stalker-like. Mentioning the clothes I was wearing and how my dyed auburn hair looked fake. The caller knew where I stopped for coffee on my way to work, even though I changed coffee shops frequently, which was one of Dad’s lessons about not following a set routine.”

“Were you ever approached?”

“I received an anonymous present. A pair of designer shoes in my favorite shade of blue along with a matching purse.”

To Spence, her stalker sounded more like a wannabe lover than a psycho drug dealer seeking revenge.

She continued, “When I told Dad about the stalker, he insisted on reporting to the marshals, and we got moved to Denver. It’s been quiet here, so quiet that Dad and I have considered leaving WITSEC.”

“We’ll talk more later.” He needed more information to flesh out his bare-bones profile of Mollie and prepare her comprehensive security in Oregon. First, they needed to hop on the plane and get going.

Before he exited the SUV, Spence drew his weapon. Holding the Beretta at his side, he stepped out of the car and scanned the airfield. A twin-engine turboprop taxied toward one of the three runways. Motorized carts filled with luggage zipped between the hangars. A few pilots and passengers meandered around. Nothing appeared unusual or dangerous.