Page 68 of Crow's Haven
When Agent Harper looks up at me, her expression is neutral. “Ms. Carlin, we’ve reviewed the materials your counsel provided. We understand the hospital narrative placed you directly responsible for the IV contamination that led to Joshua’s death. However, the evidence you and your associates collected does not seem to support that conclusion.”
“That’s a huge relief,” I tell her.
Agent Harper nods in agreement, her brow furrowing slightly. “We find your account credible, Ms. Carlin. Of course,we have a long way to go before all the information is verified, but frankly, the evidence strongly suggests you were targeted to deflect attention from corporate wrongdoing. At this time the DOJ considers you a material witness, not a suspect.”
“I’m glad I came directly to the DOJ, because I don’t think the Twin Rivers law enforcement would have listened to me.”
“I’m not going to give an opinion on whether or not there is a possibility of small town corruption going on with the Twin Rivers police department. But I will say that our primary concern at this point is for your safety.”
I glance at Smoke, whose nod is reassuring. “My safety?” I repeat, confused.
She sets her pen down and looks me in the eye. “Given the severity of the accusations and the powerful entities involved, we’re recommending protective custody until we’ve concluded our investigation. It’s a precaution, but a necessary one.”
Protective custody.
But then I stop. Do they mean witness protection? I’ve only just found Crow and the boys again. They can’t take me away.
“You’re hiding me?” I ask, my voice breaking.
Agent Harper shakes her head, “No, we need you to be in a safe house, but we are not talking about entering you into a formal witness protection program.”
I feel myself relax. The words feel heavy but also comforting. It’s validation—finally, someone with authority believes what I’ve known all along. Smoke lays a gentle hand on my arm, supporting me as relief floods my mind and body.
“You’ll be well taken care of,” Smoke assures me quietly. “This is exactly what we hoped for, someone to conduct a serious investigation to uncover the full truth.”
I nod slowly, emotions swirling in my chest. The months of fear, doubt, and constant second-guessing finally begin to unravel. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them back, determined to remain strong.
“Thank you,” I tell the agents firmly, meeting their gazes with newfound courage. “Whatever you think is best, I’ll do. I want to cooperate fully so we can get justice for Joshua and for everyone else affected.”
Agent Martin stands, gathering his documents neatly. “We’ll make arrangements immediately for you at one of our safe houses. You’ll be escorted to a secure location, and you’ll have at least two agents with you at all times. I caution you not to initiate or accept contact with anyone without permission from one of us or our superiors here at the DOJ.”
Agent Harper adds, “Please do not disclose your location to anyone.”
“Anyone?” I ask.
Smoke gently touches my hand under the table. He’s telling me that whatever happens the club will know where to find me.
“Anyone,” Agent Harper repeats.
“Of course, I understand completely.”
Her severe expression relaxes for a moment, and she adds, “For now, rest assured, we’re going to see this through.”
As the agents step from the room, leaving me alone with Smoke, I let out a slow, shaky breath. He pats my shoulder gently, his presence a reassuring anchor. “You did it,” he says simply, pride clear in his voice. “You stood your ground and brought the truth to light.”
“You mean we did it,” I correct him softly, gratitude filling my voice. “I couldn’t have done this without you and the club.” The stiffness in my shoulders finally eases, as the weight I’ve carried begins to lift.
***
The car ride to the DOJ safe house is silent. The agents don’t even talk amongst themselves. The only sound that reaches my ears is the faint hum of tires against asphalt.
I sit in the back seat, my hands folded tightly in my lap, as we navigate away from the city, into a quiet neighborhood where tall trees provide shade for modest single-family homes. The house we stop at appears unremarkable from the street. I would have never suspected it was a DOJ safe house. It’s modest in size and blends seamlessly into the small community. Having said that, I notice subtle signs that I will be well protected here. There is a discreet camera at the corner of each eave. The windows are thicker than normal windows, making me think they are made of bulletproof glass. The shutters are some kind of heavy gauge metal. I can clearly see a keyhole in the center of each one. I imagine it would be all too easy to pull the shutters closed and lock them into place.
Agent Harper parks in the driveway and nods reassuringly as she steps out, gesturing for me to quickly exit the vehicle. Before I can reach for the handle, someone on the outside opens the door. It’s a female agent with blonde hair.I might have mistaken her for a resident of the home because she’s wearing jeans and a light sweater. But when I step out of the vehicle, I can see she has an earpiece mostly obscured by her hair and a slight bulge that suggests she’s packing a weapon. Instead of looking at and interacting with me, her gaze is turned outward as if she’s scanning the area for possible trouble.
Her hand comes out against the lower part of my back and she propels me towards the front door. Her voice is low and serious when she speaks. “Move along, ma’am. Make your way to the front door.” She’s still not looking at me, but I do as she says.
I follow the woman up the short walkway to a front porch lined with hanging flower baskets, their colorful blooms gently swaying in the breeze. The house appears strangely normal, as long as you don’t zoom in on the details. It’s unsettling in a way and makes me wonder how much in life flies right over my head.
