Chapter Text
Jarrod Barkley stood up from his desk and rolled his shoulders. It had only been a couple of months since he'd been shot by Davey Dunnigan when he and his brother Mark had robbed the Wells Fargo Office in town. The bullet had missed any vital organs and Jarrod was released from Dr. Merar's care several weeks prior. Still, his back ached if he sat too long.
He rubbed a hand over his weary eyes and walked around his office trying to stretch out his muscles. It was late and he was ready to go home. Nick and Heath were on a cattle drive and would be gone for a few weeks and Audra was on her way to Philadelphia. Jarrod had been working late every night during the week and felt badly that his mother was having to eat alone. He'd sent word to the ranch earlier in the week to have one of the ranch hands left behind from the drive to bring his mother into town for them to have a dinner together. He knew he didn't really have the time, but he felt guilty for his late nights. They'd enjoyed a wonderful dinner and he'd gone back to his office for several more hours. Finally, Jarrod felt he had everything done and was looking forward to relaxing a bit the next few days.
The clock chimed the late hour and Jarrod had just finished putting papers in his briefcase when there was a knock at the door. He sighed. Who would be coming to see him this late? And whoever it was, he hoped they didn't stay long. Jarrod wanted nothing more than a glass of scotch to help dull the ache in his back before going to bed.
He opened the office door and his eyes widened. Monroe, the secret service agent who had come to town two years before stood there. Jarrod's best friend from law school had gotten involved in a counterfeiting ring and Monroe asked for Jarrod's help to capture him. Brett Schuyler was sentenced to 5 years in prison. Jarrod defended Brett and the two remained in contact off and on until Brett was murdered in prison by a fellow inmate. Jarrod had mourned his friend and paid to have him buried near the town where he'd grown up, escorting his body. The guilt Jarrod felt was enormous, but he also knew that Brett had made his choices. Jarrod also knew he had done the right thing when he told Monroe and the Sheriff what Brett had done. Still, seeing Monroe brought back the pang of regret and guilt.
"Mr. Barkley," Monroe said by way of greeting.
"Mr. Monroe, what brings you to Stockton so late?" Jarrod asked, moving so the other man could enter.
"I have a favor to ask. And I wasn't sure who else I could trust," Monroe stated. He looked around the room to make sure no one else was present. He didn't expect there to be since the hour was late, but Jarrod could tell the man was being cautious.
"Alright, what's the favor?" Jarrod asked.
"I have a witness who needs protection. No one can know their whereabouts. I also need you to help me get them to Washington DC in six weeks. Can you help me?"
Jarrod had closed the door and motioned for Monroe to take a seat. The man did so but sat on the edge of the chair.
"I'd appreciate more details," Jarrod stated.
Monroe sighed. "When I was in Stockton two years ago, Mr. Schuyler was only a small part in a much larger cog. He helped us with his testimony to gain insight into the larger operation. Clyde Barringer, his accomplice, was higher on the food chain than Schuyler, but refused to give us many answers. Schuyler's light sentence wasn't just because he was trying to do the right thing by replacing the counterfeit money with the good but because he had information we needed."
"Why wasn't I informed of that?" Jarrod asked, feeling a bit irritated.
"Need to know. And at the time you didn't," Monroe replied simply.
"This witness, who is it?"
Monroe stood and began to pace. Jarrod sat back in his chair, simply watching. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he was going to get as many answers as he could before agreeing to anything.
"Have you heard about Elliot Thatcher?"
Jarrod's eyes widened.
"Who hasn't? You're saying he was the mastermind behind the counterfeit operation that Brett was involved with?"
"We caught a break. With the information that Schuyler had plus a witness willing to testify to everything they saw within the operation, we were all set. Elliot Thatcher was going down for his crimes. We had enough evidence along with the testimony to put the man away for life."
"Had?"
Monroe stood behind his chair, his hands grasping the back of the leather so tightly his knuckles were turning white.
"His son, Adam Thatcher, was the witness."
Jarrod's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. "Adam Thatcher was found dead of a supposed self-inflicted gunshot wound a year ago," he said to Monroe.
Monroe nodded.
"Then who is your witness that needs protection now?"
"His widow."
Jarrod sat back in his chair.
"She's testifying?"
"We don't believe for a moment that Adam Thatcher committed suicide. And after speaking with Mrs. Thatcher, we are sure Adam was murdered."
Jarrod shook his head, unable to believe what he was being told. He stood and walked over to the other man.
"You're saying Elliot Thatcher had his own son killed?" Jarrod asked incredulously.
"Looks that way," Monroe said, and he took a deep breath, holding it briefly before letting it out.
"You need me to get Mrs. Thatcher to DC? Why?"
Monroe again looked around. Jarrod was beginning to become annoyed. He understood being cautious, but Monroe seemed to be taking it to the next level. Plus, Jarrod was tired, and his back was aching all the more. He was ready to get this over with.
"We have learned during our conversations with Mrs. Thatcher that Congressman Aaron Tulland was a frequent visitor to the Thatcher residence and that he was involved with Elliot in his counterfeit dealings."
Jarrod's eyes widened. To say he was shocked was an understatement. Aaron Tulland had been elected 10 years ago and most of the Valley thought the man could walk on water. He'd done more for the ranchers of the Valley than the last several congressmen who had preceded him combined.
"You can't be serious," Jarrod said.
"We have proof. And the proof will come from Mrs. Thatcher. Now I need you to get to Mrs. Thatcher and keep her safe. I'm not talking about you taking her to your ranch either. She cannot be seen by anyone and you must keep her safe, Mr. Barkley. It's imperative."
Jarrod sensed the urgency and understood it, but he was also seeing fear in Monroe's eyes. Something he wasn't accustomed seeing in a Federal Agent with Monroe's standing.
"What else aren't you telling me?" Jarrod asked. "I need to know as much as possible so I can keep her safe."
Monroe regarded the man before him. He had been wracking his brain to figure out how to get Rebecca Thatcher to DC and when he realized he was close to Stockton, he knew Jarrod Barkley would be the one to do it. He had no reason to think he couldn't trust the man, given what he knew about him from before with the case regarding Schuyler and what he'd learned about the man since.
"Rebecca Thatcher is my niece. She and Adam had been married for 7 years. When Adam decided he wanted to testify against his father, Becca contacted me. We aren't sure how, but Elliot found out what his son was going to do and…well, you know the rest of the story."
"And your niece…was she part of the operation for you to get to Elliot?" Jarrod asked. He needed to know who he was dealing with. Who he was being asked to keep safe.
Monroe's eyes flashed. "Becca had nothing to do with the mission to get Elliot Thatcher. In fact, I didn't even know who she was married to until she contacted me about Adam. She's my sister's child and I haven't seen her since she was an infant. She'd heard from her mother about what I did and contacted me."
Jarrod nodded. "Do you think someone in your organization tipped Elliot off regarding Adam's testimony?"
"I'm sure of it."
Jarrod walked behind his desk and stood for just a moment. Monroe watched him, not knowing what he'd do if Jarrod Barkley told him no. He had nowhere else to turn. No one knew he was in Stockton. He had kept his route to himself.
Jarrod seemed to sense Monroe's desperation. He decided to himself that he'd say yes. He looked Monroe in the eye.
"I'll do what you ask. Where and when?"