“No, the channel is just fuzzy, honey.” Jamie grabbed the remote control and surfed around, but only one station came in clearly: National Geographic. “Here, watch the deer. Do you see them?” She pointed to the side of the screen.
“Yes, I see them. They’re running away from the lions.”
“They always do,” Bailino said. He pulled a panel of the drapes aside to peer out the window again, his pistol at his side.
Jamie fetched some bottles of water and snack bags out of her luggage and placed them on a round Formica table next to two chairs in the corner of the room. She held out a bottle of water to Bailino.
“No, thank you, sweetheart. I’m fine.”
“Do you see anything?”
“No, but it’s a good idea for you to stay away from the window,” Bailino said. “The light behind you is creating a shadow.”
Jamie nodded. She held up the bottle of water to Faith, but the little girl was already asleep with Lucky under her arm.
“Would you look at that,” Bailino said, glancing at the two of them.
“I don’t know how I’m going to pry her away from that dog,” Jamie said.
“Who says you have to? You saw them in the car. Like two peas in a pod.”
“I don’t think Lucky will like living in our apartment after getting to roam free in the woods.”
“You’d be surprised at what an animal can get used to.”
Bailino checked his phone, which he had been doing frequently since they left Wyoming. Nothing new had been reported, other than the New York Times’s story about Faith’s Hello Kitty watch—a development that, while curious to the press, had been jarring to Jamie. She knew that Faith had come dangerously close to the explosive device in the White House, but what she hadn’t considered was how close her daughter had been to the person who had planted it. Had the Hello Kitty watch been swiped from Faith’s backpack? From Jamie’s desk? From her little girl’s wrist while she was napping in her office?
“Turn off the light, would you, hon?” Bailino said, pointing to the light switch. Jamie complied and watched him lean back against the wall, almost disappearing into it. Many times during the long car ride she had thought about telling Bailino to drop her and Faith off somewhere, at a train station or a hospital. Her showing up at his home unexpectedly had put him back on the grid. She wondered if his log cabin in Wyoming had been discovered; if it had, she didn’t know if he had other places to go, although she figured he did. He seemed to have a backup plan for every backup plan. Yet, he had already risked his life to save her and Faith—in fact, until a few days ago, she believed that he had lost his life for them—and she would rather he, or anyone else, not do it again.
“What do we do now?” she asked.
“I’m still deciding,” Bailino said, although if Jamie knew him as well as she thought she did, she was sure he had already decided. He took out his phone again and scrolled, and his expression shifted slightly. “You talk to your brother yet?”
“No, why?”
“He filed a Missing Person report. For you and the kid.”
Shit, Jamie thought. “Where did you see that?”
“Take your pick. It’s everywhere. One vulture finds a prize, they all want it.” He shook his head. “No matter. Here …” He reached into his pocket and gave her one of his burner phones. “Call him.”
“What do I tell him?” she asked.
“Tell him that you’re fine.”
“What if that’s not good enough?”
“It’s going to have to be. We can’t have every law enforcement agency looking for you. It’ll slow us down.”
Jamie dialed the phone. It barely rang one time before Edward picked up.
“Hello?” he said, his words in a rush. “Who’s this?”
Jamie took a breath. “Edward …”
“Jamie, Jesus, thank God,” Edward said. “Where are you?”
Jamie could hear Trish and the kids in the background yelling into the phone. “I’m fine, Edward. I’m fine. Sorry I didn’t call you. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, and I just needed some time.”
“Time for what? Do you know how worried I’ve been? I’ve been calling Grand, and all he’s saying is that you were fine and on vacation out west.”
“That’s right,” Jamie said.
“On vacation? Are you kidding me, James?” Edward’s voice was a mix of fear and anger. “Do you see what’s going on in the news?”
“I can do without the sarcasm, Edward,” Jamie said. “Listen, I can’t talk, I—”
“Why can’t you talk?”
“Edward, I just can’t right now. I—”
“Are you in trouble?”
“I’m fine. Faith’s fine.”
“You don’t sound fine.”
“No, I—”
“Say the codeword if you’re in trouble.”
“I’m not.”
“Just say the word, James.”
“I don’t need to say—”
“When are you coming home?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“What do you mean—”
“Edward, enough,” Jamie said louder than she meant to. Faith was still asleep, but her voice had startled Lucky. The dog raised her head, her one eye watching Jamie keenly. “Edward, I’m a grown woman, and I don’t have to report to you on every move I make.” She took a breath, bracing herself for what she knew she had to say. “President Grand understands that I need some time, and you will have to too. I will let you know when I am coming home when I know when I’m coming home.”
She waited for him to say something but there was nothing but silence on the other end of the line.
“Are you still there?” she asked.
“I’m here,” he said in a low, injured voice. After Charlotte Grand had been abducted, Edward had tried to give her space, but he had served as her protector for so long that it was a part of who he was, which is why he moved down to Virginia after she agreed to stay on with Phillip. Jamie had learned that it was nearly impossible to make people change who they were.
“Please rescind or retract or whatever you have to do about the Missing Person report,” she said. “There’s no need for it, and the president has enough to worry about. I’ll be home soon, okay?”
Again, silence until Edward finally said, “Fine. Whatever, James.”
“Edward, you don’t have to be—”
He clicked off the call.
Jamie sat down on the edge of Faith’s bed. “Well, that went well,” she said, placing the phone on her lap.
“He’s just worried about you,” Bailino said. “That’s a nice thing, a thing people take for granted. He’ll come around.” He checked out the window again. “How about that ex-husband of yours? He ever check in on you?”
“Bob? Are you kidding?”
“He ever try to get back with you.”
Jamie shook her head. “I barely hear from him. Once in a while, when he needs something, he texts, but since Faith and I moved to Washington, not really. He’s busy trying to figure out how to get back into the news. Ever since the legal roundtable was disbanded, he’s been out of the limelight.”
“Talk about a public service,” Bailino said with a smirk.
“Listen …” Jamie handed Bailino the phone. “Once we get to Washington, do you have a place you can go?”
“More than enough. Where we both can go. Until we know what’s going on, you need to stay with me.”
“Isn’t it dangerous for you to be with us?”
“Not any more than a typical day.” He smirked again.
“I’m serious. Once we get to Chicago or Pittsburgh, maybe Faith and I should take a train back.”
“Alone?”
“Yes. It will be safer for you.”
“Not so safe for you.”
“We don’t know that. At this point, we can’t know for sure that Faith and I are in danger. I think the second assassination attempt showed us tha
t. Whoever it is is after the president.”
“Maybe, but something tells me there’s more,” Bailino said. “I may have been out in the boonies for a while, but I still have my gut, and it’s telling me that you’re safest with me.”
“I don’t want to involve you any more than—”
“I’m already involved, sweetheart.” Bailino adjusted the window curtains. “I’ve always been involved.”
His intense eyes stared at her in their familiar way, but they seemed older, weary. “You should sleep,” Jamie said. “You drove the whole day.”
Bailino waved his hand dismissively. “I’ve slept enough. I’m done sleeping.”
“I mean, I won’t run off or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I know you won’t. Because I’d find you.”
She crossed her arms, feeling somewhat offended. “You sure about that?”
Bailino appeared amused, but then his face changed. “You told Faith her father died trying to save her?”
Jamie had been wondering what the two of them had been talking about at the log cabin. She nodded. “I did.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought it was the truth.”
He seemed to consider this. He rubbed his beard with the stump of his arm. “She called her father a hero.”
“He was,” Jamie said.
“I could argue otherwise.”
“Faith would have died in that cabin if it weren’t for you. We both would have.”
“Grand saved you. He’s the hero.”
“He was there because of you,” Jamie said. “He told me about your meeting at the abandoned playground.”
“Who knew the old guy had it in him?” Bailino looked back out the window. “So the two of you are … close, then?” It was the first time Jamie could remember that Bailino didn’t look at her when he asked her a direct question.
“I’d say so. I trust him with my life, and with my daughter’s.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said.
“I know it’s not.”
Bailino’s eyes shifted back to her. “You’re different,” he said.
“If you mean I’m not weak and easily manipulated, then you’re right. I’m not that girl anymore.”
Bailino looked back out the window. “You never were,” he said.
It was quiet for a few minutes, the hum of the television the only sound as Jamie watched Bailino and Bailino watched the world outside the window. Without Faith as a distraction, the room felt small, intimate, and she had a sudden desire to spend a few minutes alone.
“I think I might take a quick shower,” she said, gauging his reaction. It had been days since she had touched a bar of soap.
“Go ahead,” Bailino said, without taking his eyes from the window. “I’ll watch the kid.”
She stood there awkwardly for a few more minutes, not knowing if that was the reaction she had been expecting, and then she tiptoed toward her luggage. Faith was still lying in the same position in which she had fallen asleep, and Lucky had settled in next to her again, the animal’s eye watching Jamie fiddle with her suitcase’s zipper. Jamie picked out a few articles of clothing.
“I’ll only be a few minutes,” she said.
“No rush.” Bailino’s attention was still out the window.
She padded quickly to the bathroom, the floor squeaking under her feet, and closed the door. She thought of all the bathrooms she had been in with Bailino on the other side and hesitated before turning the bolt—she knew that if he wanted to get into the bathroom, he would, locked or not. She turned it anyway.
The space was small, and it was difficult to move since the shower stall took up most of the room. The floor was sticky, so she placed her clothing, shoes, and holster on the sink, which had a large crack in the porcelain. She carefully undressed, balled up her dirty clothing, and placed it also on the sink, slipping inside the shower. Her plan was to be in and out in minutes, but the water was surprisingly hot, and the moment she stuck her head underneath its stream she found she didn’t have the strength to remove it.
She took a deep breath, feeling as if she hadn’t taken one in years. The water ran down her body and circled around the rusty drain, dripping through its small holes. It had been through a storm drain that Bailino had escaped a burning building—and kidnapped a child. So much was taking place underneath what people saw every day. She had learned too that Washington, D.C., had all kinds of underground passageways and hiding places. Over the past five years, Jamie had learned it was important to live life not by what people saw, but by what they didn’t.
She quickly shampooed her hair with the tiny vial of product located in a broken soap dish and got out of the shower. One small hand towel was all that hung on the towel rack, and she used it to dry herself as best as she could before getting dressed and strapping her gun in place on her calf. She opened the bathroom door and was surprised when everything looked the same—Bailino standing by the window and Faith lying in bed, like a still-life painting. Only Lucky had moved, from under Faith’s arms to the bed closer to Bailino. Jamie crossed the room and could feel Bailino watching her; she almost had to check to make sure that she had gotten dressed.
“The bathroom’s yours, if you want,” she said as if the words would break his gaze. “The water is hot. It’s nice.”
If Bailino heard her, he didn’t move. Lucky’s tail wagged back and forth.
“I can stand watch for the few minutes you’re not there,” she said, trying not to sound too eager—like a student trying to impress her professor.
Bailino took one last look out the window before putting his pistol in the waistband of his jeans. He reached into his duffel bag, took out a dog bowl, and poured some of Lucky’s dog chow into it. Then he opened a bottle of water and poured some into a companion bowl and placed them both on the floor near the door. The dog jumped off the bed and hurried toward the food. Bailino eyed the bathroom.
“If there’s anything at all,” he said to Jamie, “just—”
“We’ll be fine,” Jamie said. “I’ll watch the kid.” She smiled.
He looked unconvinced but nodded and grabbed a few items of clothing and toiletries from his duffel bag. As he walked toward the bathroom, Jamie stood in his place by the window. She heard the bathroom door close behind her, but not the lock, and the bathroom water clank on.
Jamie peered out between the two curtain panels. The parking lot was quiet with the same few cars scattered throughout. The teens at the far end were gone, as was their truck; a few broken beer bottles were all that remained, glistening under a nearby streetlight. The sky had become gray, and large clouds had moved in, signaling rain. The man she had spoken to in the motel office came through the office door wearing an overcoat that hung on his gaunt body, waving to someone inside. Although he walked in the other direction, Jamie placed her hand over her holster when the water pipes clanked again and the bathroom door was suddenly open.
“You all right?” Bailino asked, his head outside, steam pouring through the crack between the door and the wall. He was holding the small hand towel against him.
She nodded. “Yes.”
He ducked back inside and closed the door, leaving it slightly ajar. When he emerged, he was wearing a fresh pair of jeans and a white T-shirt.
“I’ll take it from here,” he said, placing his old clothing, which had been neatly stacked under his folded socks, into his bag.
“But I was barely here.”
“You really should get some sleep.” He motioned for her to move.
She remained where she was. “I’m fine.”
“I’ll tell you what …” Bailino said in the way she’d seen him talk to Faith, like he was placating her. “We’ll go in shifts.”
“Perfect.”
“I’ll go first,” he said.
“But I’m already here. You can sleep first.”
“Are you seriously going to argue with me?” He crossed
his arms.
“Okay,” she said, moving away from the wall. “One hour. Then I’ll watch.”
“One hour, it is.”
Jamie checked on Faith who was sprawled across the top of her sheets horizontally. She felt her dewy forehead, which was cool to the touch, and kissed her check, adjusting her blankets so that they were on top of her again. She tried crawling in next to her.
“There’s no reason to wake her,” Bailino said. “There’s a perfectly good bed here that’s not being used.”
“We usually sleep together.”
“Suit yourself. You’re only going to have to crawl back out again when it’s your shift,” he looked at his watch, “in fifty-eight minutes.” He smirked. “Although if you fall asleep, I don’t mind—”
“I’m not tired,” Jamie said. She got up and pulled down the orange bedspread of the other bed. She sat down on it with her back against the headboard and watched the television, which was showing another nature show, this one about the disappearing honeybees. As soon as she was settled, Lucky jumped up onto the bed and circled a few times before plopping beside her, her back against Jamie’s leg.
“Lucky, get down,” Bailino said.
“It’s all right …” Jamie petted the dog’s head. “I don’t mind.”
As soon as the dog felt Jamie’s touch, she turned her belly up, and for the first time, Jamie noticed the faded scarring on her underside—long, ragged marks, where the hair didn’t grow, stretched from her neck to her tail.
“Oh, my God,” Jamie whispered. “Somebody did this?”
Bailino nodded. “Someone left this dog out in the woods to die.” He petted Lucky’s head. “But we showed them, didn’t we, girl?” Lucky nudged Bailino’s arm with her snout, and Bailino began to rub behind her ears.
The dog’s single eye blinked with satisfaction, and Jamie continued caressing Lucky’s belly, running her palm along the long, faded scars. She had been surprised once at how cruel people could be, but not anymore. Faith’s breath was blowing idle strands of hair away from her mouth, like a windsock, and an intense weariness overcame Jamie.
She turned her head so that Bailino couldn’t see her alertness begin to fade. She closed her eyes and continued to run her hand across the dog’s soft, tender skin—round and round—until her fingers grazed Bailino’s hand, which was kneading the fur around the dog’s neck, and her hand stopped. He put his hand on top of hers and squeezed gently, their stacked hands rising and falling with the dog’s resting belly.
Baby Carter (Baby Grand Trilogy, Book 3) Page 14