Agent Undone Read online

  Several hours later, Madison was showered, dressed and had cleared away her late breakfast. She settled down in her chair at the little table on the veranda with a satisfied sigh. It was her favorite place to work and she sat out there as much as she possibly could. She loved her job and it allowed her the freedom to work from home, and only meet with her employers every six weeks or so. After a year of mostly living out of her car, running for her life, she’d finally found her little cottage on the beach on the Florida panhandle. She’d been there almost a year now and had no intention of ever leaving. Not as long as he was still alive. She shuddered at the thought of the man who had made her life a living hell, and then quickly shoved it aside.

  She was soon deep into her writing. Her next blogpost was due and she had two articles to write for the publications her employers were releasing in the next month or so. Because of her own experiences, she had started to write articles on what resources were available for women in vulnerable situations, how they differed from state to state, and how their social status affected the level of help they could expect from the system. Through contacts she’d made while driving from one state to another, seeking help from shelters and free clinics on the way, and spending countless hours talking to women, often with children in tow, who had escaped abusive relationships, she’d learned a great deal. It was heartbreaking to see how little help there was for these women, and how they often went back to the abuse and control as they had nowhere else to go. Seeing the children, afraid of their own shadows and trying to be invisible, made her even more determined to give these vulnerable women a voice.

  So far, she’d attended several conferences and meetings via Skype, where politicians made promises they never intended to keep, and exposed a shelter where a donor had been given the names of the women staying there and then passed it on to a friend — the abusive husband of one of the women. The husband was now in prison for attempted murder after having dragged his wife into his car, driven her home, and then proceeded to beat her until she nearly bled out on the living room floor. It was only thanks to a neighbor hearing her scream and calling the police that she survived at all. The donor had also been exposed and was now in hiding from the world — probably until the furor died down and it was safe to come out again.

  Madison spent a few hours working until the sun and the heat drove her indoors. It was still only March, however the temperatures had been consistently high most of the winter and it wouldn’t be long before the tourist season kicked off in earnest. She was both looking forward to the invasion of families and couples in the little village and on the beach, and dreading it. It would be so much easier for someone searching for her to hide amongst throngs of people than when there were mostly only locals around. Having a few more shops and restaurants open would be a nice change, but she was quite happy with what was available. The little diner served wonderful home cooked food and the staff were always friendly and welcoming. There was also a little coffee shop she sometimes went to when she’d had enough of her own company. In the evenings, a bar was open till late, though so far she’d had no interest in visiting.

  Stopping for a mid-afternoon cup of coffee and some homemade cake, she took her mug and stepped out on the porch. The sun was still hot, but there was one little shady spot in the corner of the porch where she had placed a comfortable lounger. She stretched out on the cushioned pads and placed the cake and coffee on the little table next to her. The whole beach, as far she could see, was completely deserted. It was Tuesday, so all the weekenders had gone back to the city and wouldn’t be returning until Friday afternoon at the earliest. Seagulls soared overhead, and at the water’s edge some pelicans had settled for a rest. Madison closed her eyes and let her mind wander. She wondered how different her life would have been had she not been abandoned by her mother outside a dive bar when she was only hours old. Social services had been unable to track her mom down, and she was never lucky enough to be adopted. She’d spent her whole life growing up in the system, being shunted from one foster home to another until she turned eighteen. Since then she’d been on her own — except for the four years she’d spent with him. Once again, she quickly had to push the memories away, something which happened nearly every day. She had to remind herself she was finally free and able to live her life the way she wanted — almost.

  She’d grown up in and around Seattle and once she turned eighteen she’d worked her way through community college and got her realtor’s license. Before she’d had a chance to use it she’d met him. He was a few years older than her and infinitely more experienced. She’d fallen for his charms hook, line and sinker. Everything had been good the first couple of years. He’d pampered her with gifts, flowers, and expensive restaurants. It didn’t take much time before he was her whole world and the few friends she’d had no longer called or came to visit. It wasn’t until long after that she realized he’d been isolating her, one friend at a time. She never got a job as he said he wanted to care for her and spoil her. He earned enough money for the both of them and gave her a small allowance every week to spend as she pleased. Of course, he wanted a complete breakdown of all her expenses down to the last cent, but that was just to help her manage her income, he said. Not that he ever let her out of the flat to actually spend the money.

  It was when she was passing through Texas and sought refuge in a women’s shelter in Houston that she met a woman who’d told her about a former FBI agent who helped people like her obtain new identities. He’d worked in Witness Protection and still had contacts who could arrange name changes, drivers’ licenses, social security numbers and everything else a person needed to legally exist. The agent had been retired for a few years, but still wanted to help after his niece had been killed by an abusive partner, but not before suffering for several years, too terrified to ask for help. The new identities he was able to provide were all legal and could withstand scrutiny by anyone except the most experienced hackers. The snag was that you had to go to him in Virginia as he wouldn’t do anything except face to face. It was his way of making sure you were who you said you were. The young woman who had told her about the agent had been frustrated over not being able to travel to Virginia, however with no money and two young children it was an impossible task. Madison had noted down the contact information and was on her way to Virginia a few days later.

  She still didn’t know how she’d managed to get away from Seattle, and him. He had started to take her to his new nightclub, The Hole, wanting to show her off to his buddies and regular clients. The things she saw the first time she went there had frightened her on such a level she didn’t think she’d ever get over it. There had been a few girls there, all young and pretty, and they were being offered to the men for obscene amounts of money. One girl didn’t look a day over fourteen and Madison had seen the vacant look in her eyes. It was the look of someone who had given up. Someone who knew no one was coming to save her. It was horrifying. To make it worse, Madison knew there was no way for her to help these girls. All she could do was try to get away herself and maybe one day she’d be strong enough to send help. From then on, she had been with him every night at the clubs, all dressed up and smiling brightly. One night, she’d been in the ladies’ room and her childhood friend, Lily, had walked in. Madison had become so emotional she’d ended up telling her everything and Lily promised she would help. It had taken weeks of planning — all done by Lily who borrowed money from her boyfriend to buy her a second hand car, and extra money to add to the amount Madison had managed to squirrel away. A few dollars here and there from her allowance, and selling the few bits of jewelry she’d been given. It had all been saved up, and it wasn’t long before she’d managed to put together $2000. She’d also been able to work out the combination to the safe in the bedroom — her birthdate — and had stolen a large roll of hundred dollar bills without it being discovered.

  The bar manager at the club, Gary, had somehow agreed to leave the back door unattended and unlocked for a
few minutes that evening and it was the only window Madison had to get away. When it neared the time, she excused herself and faked a need to visit the ladies’ room. She’d been lucky and had been allowed to go by herself without her minder, Hugo, following her. He was a mountain of a man with a sadistic streak. Madison hated having him anywhere near her as she always felt he was undressing her with his eyes. The things he wanted to do her were easily readable from his expressions, and none of them were pleasant, to say the least.

  As Madison snuck out the rear entrance, her heart was beating so hard in her chest she thought it would burst through her ribcage. She knew she’d only have a couple of minutes before they realized she was gone. Once outside in the back alley, she pulled off the ridiculously high heels she’d been made to wear, and ran as fast as she could to a side street a couple of blocks away where Lily was waiting with the car. The rain was coming down sideways and the temperature had plummeted. She was soaked through in minutes. Pebbles and sharp grit cut deep into her feet and the blood made it slippery to run fast, but she didn’t care. She only had this one chance to get away and she was going to take it — or die trying. Madison had sobbed with relief when she turned onto the side street and saw Lily sitting at the wheel of a beat up old car. As soon as Madison sat down in the passenger seat, water dripping off her body in little rivulets, Lily put her foot on the accelerator and raced off into the night. In a motel parking lot south of Seattle they said goodbye to each other. Both were crying as they didn’t know if they’d ever see each other again. Lily was the only friend who’d stuck by her and even though she was busy with her own life, she hadn’t hesitated to be there for Madison when she needed it most.

  Once Madison started driving, she never stopped. She drove from state to state in a random pattern, never stopping longer than she had to. To save money, she’d sleep in her car or in homeless shelters whenever a bed was available. She’d take any job she could find, often waitressing in a diner, and moved on as soon as she had a little bit of money saved She’d drive till she crossed state lines again and found another small town to spend a few days in. Once she was several hundreds of miles away from Washington State she felt a little bit safer and ventured into bigger cities for help and support from women’s shelters wherever she could find it. The relief she felt when she finally had her new identity papers, social security number and driver’s license was indescribable. A crushing weight lifted from her chest and she was able to breathe a bit better. She knew she’d never be completely free, though, and would always be looking over her shoulder.

  With her new identity in hand she sat in her car, not quite believing she was now able to get a real job, rent somewhere to live and maybe even make some new friends. She’d still go to free clinics for medical check-ups whenever she needed to, but if she could find decent employment she’d eventually be able to get medical insurance. It was while she sat in her banged up old vehicle that she remembered a postcard she’d once seen. It was a beautiful beach with a sparkling blue ocean and a little beach hut. It had been sent by friends to the foster family she’d been staying with, and the image had attached itself to the inside of her eyelids and never disappeared. Madison knew it was just the kind of place she wanted to live in. Across the picture on the card had been the words ‘Greetings from Port St George.’ That’s where she would go, she decided, if only for a little while. Maybe there was a small house she could rent, if she was lucky. With that decision made she left Virginia and started driving south, and then west as she knew it was somewhere in the Florida panhandle. Once she was about half way there she sought out the public library in a little town she’d decided to stop in for the night, and made use of the computers and internet service. She managed to find Port St. George on a map and the driving directions for how to get there. She had it all printed out and the following morning she set out early so she could get as far as possible before having to stop for the night.

  She followed the I95 all the way to Jacksonville and then turned west towards Tallahassee, before finally seeing signs for her destination. The journey took her two days and she felt exhausted, though also exhilarated, as she drove into the little town. It wasn’t quite the picturesque place she’d expected, but she found a place to park and made her way to a small diner that looked clean and inviting. The waitress had been friendly and as there were hardly any other customers in there they soon struck up a conversation. It wasn’t long before Madison found out there was a small beach village 20 minutes away where she was sure to find an empty cottage to rent. It was winter and most of them stood empty that time of year. Excited, Madison thanked the waitress and finished her meal quickly, eager to find the place. The road there was narrow and wound its way through low growing pine trees, but no view of the ocean. There were plenty of little roads leading off it, however Madison kept going, thinking she must reach the it sooner or later. Suddenly, the trees disappeared on her left, and the sparkling waters of the Gulf of Mexico spread out in front of her. She slammed on the brakes and just stared at the shimmering blue expanse. It was breathtaking, and she immediately felt lighter. It wasn’t long before she saw the sign for St George Beach Village and turned towards it. The village was a collection of one story buildings lining the tiny Main Street, and at the far end was the white sandy beach. Madison parked her car, walked onto the beach and sank down on her knees in the powdery soft sand. She’d made it! She was finally there — the place she’d dreamt of so many years ago, but never believed she’d find. Tears ran down her cheeks and she swiped at them, embarrassed. It had been a long time since she’d let any feelings show on her face. Maybe it was time to allow them free reign again. The beach stretched as far as the eye could see in both directions and was completely deserted. A seagull screeched overhead and a few more bobbed on the gently rolling waves that washed up on the sand and then retreated back, only to be replaced with new ones. All in a never-ending natural rhythm.

  Madison didn’t move for over an hour. She just turned her face to the sun and soaked up her new found freedom. This place felt like home.

  After asking around in the shops along the short Main Street, she was given the name of someone who had a small property for rent. Trembling, she rang the number and was lucky to get an immediate reply. The cottage was still available and Madison said she’d take it without even seeing it first. The owner had been a bit surprised, although pleased to get it rented out and make some money during the low season. Madison had paid six months upfront and once that ran out they would discuss their arrangement and take it from there.

  The little beach house was the very last property on the long stretch of beach and quite isolated. It was just the kind of place she’d envisioned in her dreams and she had every intention of staying there for as long as she could. It had two bedrooms, a bathroom and an open plan kitchen and living room. Facing the beach was a spacious veranda with a couch, a lounger and a small table. It was small, but clean and cozy, and just perfect for her needs.

  It didn’t take her long to move. All she had was a small bag with some clothes and personal items, and she quickly figured out she’d need to do some shopping for necessities. First though, she needed to get a job. She still had a little bit of money left, but with having to pay rent and buy food it would soon run out. Whilst on her enforced road trip, Madison had had a lot of time to think and had come up with an idea as to what she could do to bring in some money. She’d always enjoyed writing, and seeing all the hardships women had to endure even after they’d got out of unhealthy relationships, she wanted to try to help. She wanted to write articles about how the government turned a blind eye to these women and children and sometimes even made it harder for them to find help. She wanted to give them a voice and show them someone was listening and heard their pleas for help. The hard part had been to persuade the magazine publishers to believe in her idea and to take her on as a freelance writer. She’d had to use every persuasive argument she could think of, and when they finally allowed her
to show them the series of articles she’d already been working on, they started to listen. In the end, each magazine was to get their own series with a different angle, but still centered around women escaping from abuse. Madison would create the articles focusing on politics, social services and the women themselves for three very different publications, and they would run monthly for a year to begin with. She would also write blog posts on each magazine’s website and post daily on their social media accounts. Madison had been so excited and overwhelmed with the response, however most of all, she was overjoyed that she’d be able to earn a living while working from her little beach house.

  For the past fourteen months her articles had been creating a stir amongst its readers and also within local and federal government. There was too much detail and accuracy for the authorities to deny what she was saying, and the interviews with the women themselves had been raw and compelling. The publishers had had many requests for interviews with Madison, but she’d made it clear early on she would remain anonymous or not write at all. So far, it had all worked out perfectly.

  Before long, she’d settled into new routines, and once the first paycheck had arrived she’d made a trip into the main town and bought some new clothes, sneakers, and swimming costumes. She’d also bought a small writing table to keep on the veranda, and a comfortable chair to sit in while she worked. It had been an incredible feeling to be able to purchase what she needed with her own hard-earned money instead of scrimping and saving every penny. A few more of the shadows in her mind lifted, and another piece of her slotted into place. Her nightmares still stalked her dreams at night, whenever she managed to actually fall asleep. She rarely got more than 3-4 hours’ sleep and had resorted to cat-napping during the day just to be able to function.