place to say, ma’am. However, you should know that Mr. Burnham considers your safety to be a top priority.”
“What does he know?” I asked, placing a hand on my stomach. An uneasy feeling washed over me at the prospect that Wyatt had been working for Alexander and was communicating with him about me.
“Only what is necessary to successfully complete the assignment, nothing more, ma’am. And nothing of a personal nature,” he said, raising his eyebrows.
I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Wyatt.”
“It’s not my place, ma’am.”
I nodded and fidgeted a bit, uncomfortable about the heavy silence. “Well,” I said, clearing the air. “I have an appointment I can’t miss.”
“Right,” he replied, escorting me up the block and back to the gas station. As if he knew precisely what he was looking for, he lowered himself to the ground and pulled a flashlight out of his pocket, shining it on the undercarriage of the SUV. “Just as I expected,” he commented, reaching underneath the car. After a few seconds, he raised himself.
“What is it?” I asked.
“GPS tracker,” he said. “Government-issue, too. Identical to the one I pulled off your convertible this morning. It looks like our friend stuck it beneath Mr. Weller’s car so he could track your whereabouts.”
“Government-issue?” I asked. I didn’t know what was worse…an unknown entity keeping tabs on me or a federal agent. “Why didn’t you remove it?”
“Because if I keep the tracker on, I can lead him straight to me and find out who he is and what he wants.”
“Do you think he’s looking for my father, too?”
“It would appear that way, wouldn’t it? Give me your keys. We’re switching cars,” he said, tossing his keys at me. I reached into my purse and handed him the keys to Brayden’s SUV. “You go do what you need to do, but I will check in every hour. Understand?”
A million thoughts circling in my head about who the man in the sedan could possibly be, I remained in a daze as Wyatt walked me to his car and helped me into the driver’s seat. With each day that went by, my life was spiraling more and more out of control, ghosts of my past resurfacing. I feared it would only be a matter of time before it all came crumbling down on top of me.
Mackenzie
THE SUN WAS SWELTERING when I stepped out of the car several hours later and made my way across the church parking lot, past the main building, and proceeded up the familiar path to the rectory. It had to be over a hundred degrees, the white material of my dress sticking to my skin.
As I approached, I tried to suppress my urge to turn around. I was apprehensive about seeing my father for the first time in over four months. So much had happened, I didn’t even know where to start. Between the drama with Charlie, Tyler’s deception, and the pregnancy, I had no idea how he was going to react. I prayed he would offer me some sort of guidance about what to do, like my mother would have if she were still alive.
I knocked on the door, fanning myself. It was nearly five in the evening, but the rays of the sun were strong and practically unbearable. The door opened and I felt a momentary relief when a rush of cool air escaped the house. I expected a nun to answer, as was normally the case. Instead, I stared into Father Slattery’s tired eyes.
“Good evening, Mackenzie.”
“Father Slattery,” I said, nodding.
He surveyed my appearance, his eyes settling on my stomach. Taking a timid step backwards, I pulled at the hem of my dress and stared at my feet. I didn’t know what to say. I thought about defending myself, but didn’t the church teach forgiveness, not judgment? I couldn’t really remember anymore.
“When’s the last time you went to confession, Mackenzie?” he asked in the same pacifying voice that calmed me when I was younger.
“It’s been a while, Father.” I shuffled my feet, staring off into the distance, feeling ashamed.
“I suspected as much. Please, come in.”
I shot my eyes to him. “But the mass for my mother… I need to–”
“Some things are more important and can’t be handled during a mass,” he interrupted, almost trying to tell me something with the way he stared at me, his gaze narrowed. “Please, Mackenzie. Come in.” For the first time in nearly fifteen years, I cautiously stepped foot in the rectory.