‘Yes.’ But I can tell that she doesn’t want it to be.
‘I’ll call you later. Thanks for everything.’ I hang up before she can say anything more, the same way I did with Steve. I have spent years with Jeanine and Steve, treasuring their friendship, and now I am lying even more than before.
I turn back to the laptop and log in to the VPN. There is one thing I need to do before I buy my train tickets. I go to the bank website. It is really too easy, even now, even fifteen years later. I click on ‘forgot username’ and am taken to a page where I am prompted to put in my credit card number and an email address. On an alternate screen, within minutes I have a free email account. I put that into the prompt. Moments later, I have an email confirming who I am and am directed to a page to set up a new password.
And then I am in. All I needed was the credit card number.
Amelie Renaud has only charged little more than fifty U.S. dollars on her account. Her payments are due on the ninth of the month, which means she is in the middle of the credit card cycle. This is what I was looking for. No one checks his credit card balance until his payment is due. She won’t even know what’s going on the card right now.
But the bank will. And the bank will know that Amelie Renaud is in France, not the United States, and they could flag her account. I find the page where I can report that I will be leaving the country and the card should not be flagged if foreign charges are made. This takes about five minutes.
From there, I go to the Amtrak website and make my reservations from Boston to Washington, leaving day after tomorrow.
My hands are shaking as I hit the payment button, not because I am using Amelie’s credit card but because this is final. I sit for a few minutes, staring at the screen, until it grows dark and the laptop goes to sleep. I take off my glasses and wipe my eyes before I climb off the bed and go downstairs to ask if I can use the printer. It’s not a problem, so I print out the train ticket and bring it back upstairs, folding it carefully and putting it in the front pocket of the backpack.
The backpack. I will need a bigger bag. Something sturdier. I have a gym bag in my house, but it’s not big enough. I don’t own luggage because I don’t go anywhere. I know where I can find something suitable. The shop next to Veronica’s gallery sells duffel bags. Some say Block Island on them, but others are plain. I will need a plain one.
My head is spinning with everything I am doing and everything I need to do. I lie down on the bed and close my eyes. Just for a few minutes, I tell myself, just to regroup a little.
There is a knock at the door. It startles me awake. I glance at my watch and see that I have been sleeping for four hours and it is after lunch. I push down the irritation with myself as I get up on one elbow.
‘Yes?’ I call.
‘You’ve got a visitor.’ The owner’s voice is muffled. It doesn’t really sound like her, but it could just be that she’s talking through the door.
I get up slowly and cross the room. ‘Excuse me?’
‘You have a visitor.’ Yes, it’s her. I recognize her voice now.
I reach for the doorknob and turn. I barely have the door open when he pushes inside.
TWENTY-NINE
‘Steve?’
He comes in and shuts the door behind him. He is carrying a big brown bag that smells remarkably like onion rings. He holds it up. ‘I brought you something to eat.’
‘How did you know where I was?’ I am definitely confused.
‘I stopped back over at the spa after I did a tour. Jeanine told me you called her. I checked her caller ID when she went out to be with a client. I recognized the number. I know all the B and B numbers on the island.’
I feel stupid. Of course he has to know all the numbers of all the bed and breakfasts, hotels, condos, every tourist accommodation on the island. It is his job.
‘Reggie has been following me around like a dog, but he got distracted.’ He is over at the little desk in the corner, opening up the bag he’s brought.
‘Distracted how?’
‘They found him. That guy. Carmine.’ He takes out napkins and makes little placemats out of them before putting the cheeseburgers and onion rings on them. I see now that he has a second bag, and he takes out a couple of Del’s lemonades.
My stomach growls despite myself, and he grins. ‘Nice to see that you’re still alive and well,’ he says. ‘Come on, it’ll get cold.’
But I am still thinking about what he’s told me. ‘Who found him?’
‘No one we know. Couple of tourists here for the first time. Too bad about that.’
They will always associate Block Island with a dead body now.
There are two chairs in the room, and we pull them over to the desk. I pick up a burger and after I take a big bite, let out a long sigh. ‘Thanks for this.’
Steve is watching me as I eat. He is trying not to let on that he is, but his eyes are following my every movement.
‘So, I guess all the police on the island are at the Bluffs now,’ I say, mulling this over in my head. This is what I thought of last night, that the body could be reported and I could make my escape.
‘That’s right.’ He knows what I’m thinking. That I could get away now. But I still have something I need to do before I go, and I’m not a hundred percent sure that no one is watching for me, even now.
‘Is there an APB or something out on me? I mean, because Reggie’s been watching you and they’re probably watching the ferries, too.’
Steve takes a deep breath. ‘Frank hasn’t advertised that they’re looking for you. I think he’s still hoping you’ll turn yourself in.’
I let that lie. ‘I’m surprised Jeanine didn’t come with you.’
‘I didn’t tell her I was coming.’
I see a twinkle in his eye. ‘You didn’t tell her you sneaked a peek at her caller ID.’
‘You had a reason not to tell her where you were.’
‘I had a reason not to tell you, either.’
Steve wipes his mouth with a napkin, but he still has some crumbs in his beard. I lean over and brush them off, and he reaches up and takes my hand. ‘Nicole, I think it’s time we talked seriously about what to do.’
His hand is warm and rough, and I carefully pull mine out of his. ‘I know what I’m going to do.’ I meet his stare, and he knows. He is struggling with it, though, just as I have been these past days.
He suddenly drops his head into his hands and whispers, ‘What am I going to do without you?’
I get up and put my arms around him, my face in his neck. We stay that way for a few minutes, until finally I straighten up and go back to my chair. He looks at me then, studying my face as though he wants to imprint it on his brain so he will never forget me. I don’t need to do that. He will forever be a part of me.
‘I’m a fugitive,’ I say, my voice sounding too loud, although it is barely above a whisper.
‘But what you did was a long time ago—’
‘Steve, I stole millions of dollars. They will throw me in prison.’
‘Where will you go?’
I am thrown a little by the change of subject. ‘I’m not sure yet.’
‘Will you be able to let me know?’
‘I have been living here for fifteen years and I never told anyone from my other life where I was.’ Until that stupid postcard. I will not make the same mistake.
‘But it’s me,’ he argues.
I want to tell him that I will let him know. I want to tell him that someday we will see each other again. But I can’t. It would just be another lie.
‘Why can’t I go with you?’
‘Your life is here.’
‘So is yours.’
His words sober me. He is right. Or at least, my life used to be here. It has been slipping away ever since I saw Ian in the parking lot at Club Soda.
‘Will you see him again?’ Somehow Steve knows I am thinking of Ian.
‘No.’
‘You ran with him once
before.’
‘And then I ran away from him.’
Steve’s face grows dark, and he looks deep into my eyes. ‘What happened with Zeke Chapman? Did you kill him, Nicole? Is that really why you’re on the run?’
I first noticed the surveillance car outside the house about two weeks into my affair with Zeke. It followed me to the gym. I could make out a man and a woman inside. They kept a safe distance away, and even though they didn’t pull into the gym parking lot, when I drove home later I spotted it again in my rearview mirror.
‘We’ve got a problem,’ I told Ian when I called him. We had been careful not to see each other, except in crowded clubs, since we’d done the job. We wanted to make sure a good period of time passed before we were seen together, just in case. We told my father Ian had gone back north, when in fact he was staying in a friend’s house in Coral Gables.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Pretty sure.’
‘It’s that agent. The one you can’t keep your hands off.’
I had told him about Zeke to make him jealous. He had been distracted the last couple of months, despite the job, and I worried there was another woman. But I didn’t tell him the reason for getting involved with Zeke. Instead, I said it was to make sure that the FBI weren’t onto us. ‘He’s OK,’ I said.
‘I don’t think so. Maybe he’s with you because he suspects you.’
I’d already had that thought, and I’d tried to push it away, but it wouldn’t go. Zeke showed up for the first time right after we did the job, checking up on my father, but what did he know about me? Did he know that I’d hacked into my father’s business accounts when I was a teenager? My father had been angry, but then he bragged about me. Said because of me, he knew he needed better security on his computer system. He hired experts who claimed they were the best in the business. He had no idea I still got past their firewalls and safeguards. I knew everything that was going on in my father’s business, and I knew where all the money came from and was funneled out to.
If my father had hired Tracker, no one would’ve been able to get in. Not even me.
Did Zeke hear the story about me? Did he keep an eye on me because of that? I still couldn’t believe that he had any idea about what we’d done. How could he be sleeping with me, knowing I might have stolen millions?
I was wary for the next couple of days, watchful for that car. I thought I’d imagined it the first time because I didn’t see it again. But then, I realized they were smart. There were different cars on different days, two men, two women, a man and a woman. They were changing it up. But I was definitely being followed.
‘I think someone’s following me,’ I told Zeke one afternoon in bed.
He gave a short chuckle and touched my cheek. ‘Paranoid?’
‘No. I’m being followed.’
He leaned back. ‘Why do you think someone would follow you?’ He stared at me in a way that dared me to tell him the truth.
I shrugged. ‘I have no idea. My father, maybe?’
‘But you have nothing to do with your father’s business.’ He paused. ‘Do you?’
I gave him a sly smile. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’
Later, when I got out of the shower, I peered around the door and saw him with my laptop open on the bed. I didn’t let on that I’d seen him. I gave him a kiss at the door and he said he’d see me the next day. He had a surprise for me. I went back upstairs and opened the laptop. He’d seen nothing; I always made sure I left no tracks. But I had to be sure. I scoured the system, but there were no clues to what I’d done.
Still, I found Tracker and told him I needed the new identities for me and Ian as soon as possible.
The next day, I met Zeke at the door and led him up to my bedroom, as I’d been doing for the last month. But today would be the last time.
‘I told you I had a surprise,’ he said afterward. He was excited about something. I felt a sense of dread. ‘I told my wife. About you.’
I couldn’t speak for a few seconds. ‘What?’ I finally asked. ‘Why?’
‘Let’s run away together.’ His eyes were a bright blue, and I could see in them that he meant it. That he wanted to run away with me.
‘But—’
‘But nothing. I love you.’
All I could think was, we were just sleeping together. It wasn’t love. At least not for me. He could see it. He could see it in my face. He pulled away from me, frowning.
‘What, Tina? Was I just a good fuck?’
I reached for him, but he swung his legs over the side of the bed and got up.
‘No, it’s not like that.’
‘Then what’s it like?’ His blue eyes were dark with anger. ‘What’s it like for you? Because for me, well, I told my wife that I loved someone else. That I was leaving her. For you.’
I didn’t feel guilty then, and I still don’t. Not about that. But I ponder Steve’s question. Did I kill Zeke?
‘No. It’s nothing like that. It’s just the money. That’s all it’s ever been,’ I say, unable to look him in the eye. ‘Zeke and I, well, we had a relationship. He was more attached than I was. I guess you can say he got a little possessive.’
‘So how did he end up in Paris?’ Steve is genuinely curious about this, and I want to tell him, but I’m not ready for that particular story yet. I shake my head.
‘I don’t want to take that trip down memory lane right now, OK?’
Steve reluctantly nods. ‘OK. So what’s your plan?’
I smile. ‘You know I’m not going to tell you that.’
‘It was worth a try, wasn’t it?’
‘You get a gold star for effort.’
‘I think I’d make a pretty good detective,’ Steve says. ‘I did find you here.’
‘You did do that.’
‘So tell me what else I can do to help you.’
I look at him warily. ‘You want to help me get off the island without being seen?’
‘Isn’t that what friends do? Help each other?’ But I can see the pain etched in his expression. He will help me, but he doesn’t truly want to. He wants me to stay, for everything to stay the same, despite everything, despite knowing what I have done. He loves me unconditionally, unlike Ian, unlike Zeke, despite their pronouncements. They both wanted something from me, something they knew I couldn’t give them. Steve wants me to stay, but because I must leave, he will help me step out of his life and leave him alone. Because it’s what I have to do.
‘I need to get on the ferry in the morning. I have to take the first one out.’ I had thought I might be able to take the three o’clock, but it’s getting too late for that. The jury is still out on whether I can make the five o’clock, which is the last ferry of the day. It depends on whether I can get myself a duffel bag and the money. I could go straight to the ferry from my house. Steve will never have to know.
He is speaking. ‘No problem. And I’ll go with you.’
‘No, Steve, you can’t.’
‘Yes, I can. And I’ll take you wherever you want me to. Where do you need to go?’
I don’t want to tell him about the train ticket out from Boston, but I see that he’s pretty determined, so I say, ‘Providence.’
He nods his head slowly. ‘OK. What else do you need?’
‘Nothing.’
His eyebrows rise into his forehead and I hold up a hand. ‘No, really, Steve, I don’t need anything else.’ I don’t need the ride to the ferry, either, but it is the only way I know to get him to leave now. I have things to do, things that don’t concern him. I stand up. ‘I have to get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.’ I am anxious for him to leave. I’ve wasted too much time.
He reluctantly stands, too. ‘OK.’
I walk him to the door. ‘First ferry is—’
‘At eight-fifteen. I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.’ He lingers at the door. ‘You really have to—’
I put my finger to his lips. ‘I really have to.’ I can see in his
eyes that he thinks if he helps me, maybe I will not disappear forever. I give him a little push out the door. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
I listen to his footsteps go down the stairs before I shut the door. I go over to the window and see his SUV out front. He emerges from the house and looks both ways before he gets into the Explorer. The engine starts. He glances up at the house, and I shrink back into the white lace curtains, hoping he didn’t see me. The SUV begins to move slowly down the street, until it goes around the corner and is out of sight.
I clean up the remnants of the lunch Steve brought, putting the trash back into the paper bag it came in and stuffing it in the can next to the desk.
I am stalling, but I need to make sure he is well gone before I venture outside.
I shove the backpack and laptop under the bed. I won’t need them for what I’m about to do, and they will be safer here, where no one but Steve knows I’ve been. If something happens to me, he can lead Frank Cooper here. They will find the train ticket I have printed out, along with all the cash and the passport and driver’s license for Amelie Renaud. They will find nothing on the laptop, because I’ve wiped it clean. Maybe, just maybe, Frank will find someone who can discover my secrets, but it will take a long time to break through.
I take another look around the room before I shrug on the cardigan I’ve borrowed from Jeanine and pull the baseball cap over my head. I slip through the door, locking it behind me.
THIRTY
I am headed on foot to that store next to Veronica’s gallery to get a duffel bag. I hope that the ball cap will keep anyone from recognizing me, at least right away. People here don’t really expect to see me walking, anyway. They are more used to seeing me on my bike.
I am feeling antsy because this is only the first part of what I have to do.
I don’t know how long it’s taken me to get to Old Harbor; I am walking with purpose. Some cars have passed me; I’ve nodded to people walking dogs, pushing strollers. It’s a beautiful day on the island, and everyone is doing normal things. I was normal until last week. What would I be doing if I were home, if I hadn’t been discovered? I might be riding my bike up to the North Light or sitting in my rocker on the front porch looking out over the water with a cup of tea. I’d be feeling happy, content with my life. I long for that feeling again.
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