His Wife or Her Grave

The Best Friend's Betrayal

Ziva stared out the upstairs window, heart hammering against her ribs. Judy was walking up the driveway.

Her best friend since high school. The girl who'd taught her how to do winged eyeliner, held her hair back when she was drunk for the first time.

Judy looked disheveled. Hair falling out of its ponytail. Mascara smudged. She kept looking over her shoulder, sharp and restless.

But she was alone.

"Don't go down there." Tyrell's voice came from behind her.

Ziva turned. He was standing in the doorway, gun in hand.

"She's my best friend."

"She's been working with James Keene."

The words didn't make sense. Her brain rejected them. "What?"

Tyrell pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, held it out to her.

Bank statements. Wire transfers from an account registered to James Keene to Judith Alvarez. Multiple payments over two years. The last one four days ago. Fifty thousand dollars.

Below that, emails. Short. Clinical.

Subject at coffee shop on 5th. Met with male, mid-20s. Appeared comfortable.

Subject working double shift. Mentioned rent problems.

Subject applied for scholarship. Denied. Emotional distress noted.

Surveillance reports. About her.

From Judy.

Ziva's hands started shaking. "No. Judy wouldn't..."

"She would." Tyrell's voice was flat. "And she did. For years, she's been feeding him information about you."

The phone slipped from Ziva's fingers.

Judy had been taking notes.

"I need to talk to her." Ziva's voice came out hollow.

"Ziva!"

"I need to hear it from her."

Tyrell's jaw tightened. "Fine, but I'm coming with you."

He followed her down the stairs, gun held low but ready.

Ziva reached the front door, took a breath, and opened it.

Judy was on the porch, hand raised to knock again. When she saw Ziva, her face crumpled with relief.

“Ziva! Thank God. I've been so worried.”

"How did you find me?" Ziva's voice was cold, foreign to her own ears.

Judy hesitated. "I... I tracked your phone."

"I don't have my phone."

Judy's expression faltered. Just for a second. "Your friend's phone then. Marcus? I just... I needed to make sure you were okay."

Ziva stepped closer. "Who told you where I was?"

Judy's eyes flicked to Tyrell, then back. Fear crossed her face. "Please, Ziva. You're in danger. He's not who you think."

"How much did James pay you?"

The color drained from Judy's face. "I don't know what you're..."

"Fifty thousand dollars." Ziva's voice was steady now. "That's the last transfer. Four days ago. Right after I went missing."

Judy's mouth opened. Closed. No sound came out.

"How much, total?"

Judy's legs seemed to give out. She sank to her knees on the porch, hands coming up to cover her face.

"I didn't have a choice!" The words came out choked. "He threatened my mom. Said if I didn't help him, he'd..."

"So you sold me?" Ziva heard her voice crack. "For money? For your mom? You sold me to a trafficking ring?"

“No! I didn't know what he was planning!” Judy looked up, mascara streaking down her cheeks. “I thought... I thought he just wanted to scare you away from Tyrell.”

"Why would he want that?"

Judy's face twisted with resentment.

"Because I've loved him since high school." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "And you didn't even want him. You rejected him and called him dangerous. And then suddenly he's obsessed with you and spending all his money keeping you safe and I'm..."

She broke down completely, sobbing into her hands.

"I'm invisible. I've always been invisible to everyone, but especially to him."

Ziva stared at her former best friend kneeling on the porch, and felt nothing.

No sympathy. No anger. Just... nothing.

"You've been in love with Tyrell this whole time?" Her voice sounded far away.

Judy nodded, still crying.

"And you thought if I was gone?"

"He'd finally see me." Judy's voice was broken. "If you weren't in the picture, maybe he'd..."

"But he never did, did he?"

Judy shook her head.

Ziva crouched down in front of her, forcing Judy to meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry you were hurting," she said quietly. "I'm sorry you felt invisible, but you don't get to destroy my life because you wanted someone who didn't want you back."

Judy's face crumpled.

Ziva stood. "Leave. And don't come back."

"Ziva, please."

"Leave."

Judy struggled to her feet, makeup ruined, hands shaking.

She'd looked the same way in high school when boys didn't notice her. When her parents got divorced. When life disappointed her.

Ziva had always been there to comfort her.

Not anymore.

Judy turned toward her car, shoulders shaking with sobs.

Then stopped.

"Ziva, there's something you should know."

Ziva tensed. Behind her, she felt Tyrell move closer.

Judy's voice was quiet. "James didn't just watch you randomly. He chose you specifically."

The air turned cold.

"Why?"

Judy turned back, face blotchy and wet. "Because you look exactly like someone. A woman he was obsessed with years ago."

Tyrell stepped forward. "Who?"

Judy shook her head. "I don't know her name. But James showed me a photo once when he was drunk. She could’ve been your twin."

The porch tilted under Ziva's feet.

"He said she got away." Judy's voice was barely audible now. "And he's been looking for her replacement ever since."

Silence crashed down.

Ziva couldn't breathe.

She wasn't even herself. She was a replacement. A substitute for some woman who'd escaped James Keene twenty years ago.

Her entire existence was a shadow of someone else.

Headlights suddenly flooded the driveway.

Multiple cars. Black SUVs. At least three.

Tyrell grabbed Ziva, pulled her behind him, gun coming up.

"Get inside!" he said.

But Ziva couldn't move.

The cars stopped. Engines cut off. Doors opened.

Timothy stepped out first.

Ziva's stomach lurched. He looked the same. Same boyish face. Same soft smile. Like he hadn't sold her to traffickers or destroyed her life.

Then James Keene emerged from the second vehicle.

Older than in the Maine photos her memory had kept. Late fifties now.

He smiled at her.

And Ziva recognized him.

Michael.

"Hello, Ziva." His voice was smooth. Exactly as she remembered. "I've waited so long to bring you home."

Armed men stepped out of the vehicles. Six. Maybe more. All carrying weapons.

Judy backed away, hands up. "James, I did what you asked. I brought you here. Please, my mom."

"Yes, yes." James waved her off dismissively. "Your mother is fine. You can go."

Judy ran to her car, scrambling inside, engine roaring to life. She disappeared down the driveway without looking back.

James' eyes never left Ziva.

"You've led me on quite a chase, my dear." He took a step closer. "But it's over now, time to come home where you belong."

Tyrell's gun came up, aimed directly at James' head. "She's not going anywhere with you."

James smiled, like Tyrell was a child with a toy.

"Mr. Smart. I've heard so much about you. My son spoke very highly of your... protectiveness."

Timothy stepped forward, standing beside his father. "Ziva, please. This doesn't have to be difficult. Just come with us. He won't hurt you. He loves you."

Ziva's voice came out strangled. "Love?"

James' expression softened. "I've loved you since the day I saw you on that dock in Maine. So alone. So beautiful. So much like..."

He stopped himself.

"Like who?" Ziva demanded. "Who do I look like?"

James' smile turned sad. "Someone I lost a long time ago. Someone who should have stayed with me but made the mistake of running."

"Her name."

"Elise." The name came out worshipful. "My Elise. She left and took my heart with her. And then I saw you, and it was like she'd come back to me."

Ziva felt sick. "I'm not her."

"No," James agreed. "You're better. Younger, and this time..." His eyes hardened. "This time, you won't get away."

Tyrell's finger tightened on the trigger. "Last chance. Leave. Now."

James sighed. "I really hoped we could do this civilly." He nodded to his men.

They raised their weapons.

Pointed them at Tyrell and Ziva.

"You can shoot me," James said pleasantly. "But my men will kill you both before you take another breath. Or..." He held out his hand toward Ziva. "You come with me willingly, and Mr. Smart gets to live. Your choice, my dear."

Ziva's heart stopped.

Tyrell's voice was fierce beside her. "Don't. Ziva, don't!"

"If I don't, they'll kill you."

"I don't care."

"I do." Ziva looked at him. At the man who'd loved her since high school. Who'd watched over her for years. Who'd destroyed his empire to keep her safe.

Who'd married her in a chapel at two in the morning and promised to spend his life earning it.

She couldn't let him die.

"Ziva, no."

She stepped forward, out from behind Tyrell, and walked toward James Keene.