by Kelly Utt
Ryan had been sitting on the couch in his living room, his hands clasped together with his elbows on his knees, staring at the stone fireplace as he’d thought about how to find his girls. He was mad at Marcheline for taking them away from him. He had wondered if she was out of her mind. None of it made sense. Why would a woman like Marcheline walk away from her mega-successful business after spending so many years building it through her own sweat and tears? Something wasn’t right.
Ryan had considered calling the police. The local force in Rosemary Run had a good reputation for being thorough and diligent. But Rande had urged him not to do so. Further, Rande had explained that involving the authorities could actually endanger his wife and daughter. Left with little to go on, Ryan was becoming increasingly distraught.
Unexpectedly, his telephone had rung. It was the landline and not his mobile. He had known the moment he heard the tone that it was Sabine. No one else would have called so late at night, and hardly anyone uses the landline anymore.
“Sabine!” Ryan had said as he grabbed the receiver off the wall in the kitchen.
“I don’t have long,” Sabine replied. “Mom is in a truck stop right now and she’ll be back any minute. I don’t want her to know I’m calling.”
“Understood.”
“We’re in a town called Kingman, Arizona. We’re staying at a little motel called Desert Vista Inn. It’s right next to the truck stop as soon as you get off the first Kingman exit. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going. I’ll stall Mom until you arrive. She destroyed our phones, so you’ll have to find us the old-fashioned way. We’re in her Range Rover. Hurry!”
Ryan had hung up the phone, overjoyed. He had hesitated, ever so briefly, as he thought about his extended family. His parents, grandparents, brothers, and a slew of nieces and nephews were very special to him. They were a tight group, and he had chosen to spend his life living near them. But not if it meant giving up on Sabine and Amelie. His extended family would understand. He had to go to his wife and daughter, even if it meant never returning to Rosemary Run.
Ryan had thrown a few clothes in a bag and then retrieved some important documents from the safe. Their birth certificates, marriage license, and their passports had been neatly organized and ready to grab at a time just like this. He had tossed the items in hastily, barely remembering to lock the house as he left. He had gotten into his black SUV and driven away as his tires squealed on the driveway.
Little had Ryan known; he was being followed. Bill Henderson had left the Lazy Dayz Motel to pursue his leads in person. When he had found no one home at Marcheline’s estate on Jenny Lane, he had proceeded to the Fay-Martin residence on Songbird Lane. Bill hadn’t planned to knock at this hour, but had been intrigued when he’d seen Ryan leave in a hurry. Deciding to chase the lead as far as he possibly could, Bill had followed discreetly behind Ryan, south towards Kingman, Arizona.
15
Marcheline, Sabine, and Amelie got settled into the hotel room easily. They were traveling light and didn’t have much to carry inside. Marcheline brought her go-bag in with her, wanting to keep the cash and other important items close by. She knew that if she were to lose anything from the bag, life on the run would become much more difficult.
Amelie continued to be a little angel. As long as she was fed, entertained, and given enough quiet to recharge, she rolled with the punches like a seasoned traveler. Amelie and Sabine took one bed, cuddling together then falling asleep. Marcheline took the other bed, but sleep didn’t come quite as easily for her. She tossed and turned, one eye on the door. Her mind raced all night long, filled with thoughts of impending doom.
The nervousness surprised Marcheline, because in the years she had been living in Rosemary Run, she’d managed to maintain an even keel despite her precarious circumstances. But things were different now. And she knew they could get a lot worse before they got better. If they got better.
When daybreak arrived and it was time to get moving again, Marcheline felt relieved. Maybe she’d rest more when they arrived in Tucson to whatever safe haven Guillermo would provide them. She got out of bed and quickly showered and dressed for the day. She thought about everything happening in Rosemary Run and how her staff would look for her. She felt bad about Jim expecting her to Netflix and chill the night before, and about telling Leonard they would see each other soon when she knew they would not. Most of all, she worried she had let too much fall on Rande’s shoulders. But she pushed all of that out of her mind and turned her thoughts towards moving forward. She had to. There wasn’t another choice.
When Marcheline was ready to leave the hotel room, Sabine and Amelie were still sleeping soundly. The hairdryer hadn’t even disturbed them. Marcheline left a note as she walked back across the parking lot to the truck stop to see if Carl was in yet. To her disappointment, Stu was still the attendant on duty.
“Stu,” she said as she walked in the door and approached the counter. “It’s a new day, my friend. And you’re still here.”
“Yeah,” Stu said with a sigh. Marcheline got the idea he wasn’t much of a conversationalist at any time of day. But she knew how to charm people and figured she had better get in good with Stu.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You’re here for Carl again.”
“Smart man,” Marcheline replied, grossly exaggerating. She thought she detected a faint smile on Stu’s face as he received the compliment, so her charms were working. “Is Carl in yet this morning?”
“Not yet,” Stu said, sounding ever so slightly more enthusiastic. “But he’ll be here any minute. And when he gets here, I can go home.”
“I’ll bet you’re looking forward to that,” Marcheline said, trying to strike up a conversation. She wanted Stu on her side. She had even thought about it in the middle of the night. Stu posed a risk, because he could report her to the authorities if he took a notion. It was important that she got him on her side.
“Yeah, you can say that again,” Stu replied.
“Night shift is never fun,” Marcheline continued. “I know that from experience, my friend.”
“You worked night shift?” Stu asked. “You look too classy for that.”
Marcheline laughed and tilted her head down. Her first instinct was to tilt her head back, but she was careful not to show her face to the security cameras. She was still wearing a ball cap. “That’s right. I used to work at a gas station during college. And I worked the night shift plenty of times. Some strange people show up at gas stations in the middle of the night.”
Stu leaned back on a stool, focusing his full attention on Marcheline for the first time. “Yeah, the crazies come out after dark,” he said. “Some people are so high they can’t even pay with correct change. Or else they move so slow it’s like they’ve turned into sloths. Sometimes, I have to laugh out loud. They rarely notice when I do.”
“I know what you mean,” Marcheline added. “At the gas station where I worked, some people would get so agitated that they were ready to fight each other in the parking lot. And I didn’t want them fighting on the property. I would get in trouble if they did, even though I couldn’t do much to stop them. It wasn’t fair.”
“Right!” Stu said, getting animated now. “I had to call the cops last week because some guys were fighting out by pump number two. I don’t know what they were fighting about, but I don’t think the dayshift attendant sees that kind of shit.”
“I think you’re right. Dayshift doesn’t realize how lucky they are.”
As Marcheline and Stu laughed together, a gray-haired Native American man wearing overalls and a straw hat walked in from the back. He was short and round, shaped like Humpty Dumpty. Marcheline wasn’t sure what she had been expecting Carl to look like, but this wasn’t it.
“Mr. Lowery,” Stu said to the man, standing up straight. “Good morning, sir.”
“Stu,” the man replied as he tipped his hat. “And hello, Ma’am, good morning.”
Marcheline squinted her eyes
. She wasn’t sure if he was calling her Ma’am on Rande’s suggestion, or if it was a coincidence.
“Good morning,” Marcheline said, extending her hand to shake Carl’s.
His skin was pale and Marcheline suddenly became self-conscious about how dark hers was by comparison. She knew that some places in the country weren’t as welcoming to brown-skinned folks as she was used to. She didn’t know if she should be worried in these parts, but it concerned her that this was the first time she was thinking about it. She scolded herself and made a mental note to do more thorough preparation. She needed to be ready for every aspect of life on the run if she were to pull it off.
“This lady’s looking for you,” Stu said. “She was here last night, too.”
“Is that right?” Carl asked, winking at Marcheline. “You look familiar, Ma’am.”
There it was again. Ma’am. Marcheline thought it must be intentional.
“How do you know me?” she asked. “Do we have a mutual friend?”
“Mr. Pink, is it?” Carl asked. Pink was Rande’s codename. It was somewhat unimaginative, but was chosen because his last name is Floyd. He had thought Pink Floyd was as good of an association as any, so he had decided to become Mr. Pink when a disguise to his identity was required.
“I do know a Mr. Pink,” Marcheline confirmed. “An old cowboy from Wyoming. Does that sound like the same guy?”
“Indeed, it does,” Carl confirmed. “Come on back with me we’ll talk in my office.”
Stu looked at Carl skeptically, eager to go home.
“Stuart,” Carl began. “I need you to stay a few extra minutes and cover for me while I talk to this nice lady. I won’t be long.”
Stu’s head dropped, but he reluctantly agreed. Marcheline was glad she had taken the time to chat with him. Hopefully, their rapport would offset his frustration at having to stick around longer than usual.
“Stu, you’re a doll,” Marcheline said warmly. She walked over and placed one hand on Stu’s upper arm and looked him in the eye. “Truly, sir, you’re very kind. Your help is much appreciated.”
Stu smiled sheepishly, seeming content, so Marcheline followed Carl into the back. His office was small and dark, and it smelled like mildew. Marcheline was used to spending her time in much more swanky places that were clean and orderly. She told herself she’d have to get used to this and not make a big deal of it.
“Mr. Pink was in touch and he told me of your need,” Carl said once the door was shut and it was just the two of them inside. “Short notice, so forgive me for not being able to get something nicer.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it at all,” Marcheline said, and she meant it. “I’m just grateful you could get me something to drive. What is it?”
“It’s an old red and white Ford Bronco. A gas guzzler,” Carl explained. “Sorry about that. It seems to be in good working order for now. But unfortunately, I can’t promise that it won’t need some work done soon.”
“That’s perfectly fine, Carl,” Marcheline said. “It just needs to get me to my next destination and I should be able to switch for something different there. Do you think it will carry me for a half day’s drive?”
Carl nodded, and Marcheline suddenly wished she hadn’t told him the distance she had left to go. Any scrap of information could lead to being found.
Carl could tell what she was thinking. “No need to worry, Ma’am,” Carl said. Marcheline was sure the nickname wasn’t a coincidence now. “Mr. Pink and I go way back. I’d do anything for that old cowboy, and he’d do the same for me. He told me you were one of his. That’s all I needed to hear.”
“Thank you,” Marcheline said simply.
“I don’t know what you’re involved in or what you’re running from,” Carl said. “But if I can help again, don’t you hesitate to come back. Any friend of Mr. Pink’s is a friend of mine.”
Marcheline grinned as she thought about Rande and what a good friend he had been to her. She expected he would have been just as good of a friend to Carl. They were both lucky to know him.
“So, when can I get into the Bronco?” Marcheline asked. “Is it here now?”
“Almost,” Carl said. It’s being brought in from the Native American Reservation east of here. Shouldn’t take more than a couple hours, max.”
Marcheline squirmed when she heard this. She was getting antsy. She needed to get them moving.
“It was the best I could do, Ma’am,” Carl added. “I’m sorry if it’s not fast enough. Really, I am.”
“It’s okay.”
“Are we making a trade? Mr. Pink mentioned that I would need to relieve you of your current vehicle.”
“That’s right,” Marcheline said. “It’s a Land Rover. Fully loaded. I hope you can make use of it. But it can’t be traced back to me or even the location where I dropped it off. Can you make sure it gets shuffled to a different part of the country?”
“Can do,” Carl replied. “The associate of mine who is bringing the truck will use his network to send it east. It will most likely end up at a reservation in Cherokee, North Carolina. It’ll either be sold from there or used by someone in our network.”
“Are you Native American?” Marcheline asked, curious.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Carl replied. “Half blood, anyway. Hualapai. I have friends and family still living on the reservation. We take care of each other.”
“That’s really nice,” Marcheline said. “I haven’t seen my parents in over twenty-five years. The only family I have is my daughter. She’s married now and I have a grandbaby.”
Again, Marcheline felt bad having revealed so much information. And again, Carl could tell.
“Ma’am,” Carl said as he leaned forward on his desk, placing his short arms in front of him. “You have my word. You can trust me. If anything harms you, it won’t be of my doing. You’re safe here. I won’t repeat anything you tell me. You can... Relax.”
Marcheline leaned back in her seat, eager to relax as Carl suggested. “I hear you,” she said. “I’m just a little jumpy. That’s all. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Carl replied sincerely.
“Well, I guess I’ll go back to my hotel room and wait. When the Bronco gets here, how will I know?”
“I’ll have it parked beside your Land Rover. Keys will be under the mat. You shift your stuff on over, then leave your keys for me. We will have the truck gassed up and ready. You can drive away just as soon as you get in.”
“Carl, you’re a gem!” Marcheline exclaimed. Then she stood up, patted Carl on the shoulder, and headed back to her hotel room.
16
Ryan had driven all night, downing energy drinks to stay awake. He had been so focused on getting to Sabine and Amelie before they left Kingman that he hadn’t noticed Bill tailing him. Maybe it was because Bill had years of experience as a private investigator, following people without letting them know. Or maybe Ryan had been too naive to think he could be followed. Whatever the reason, Bill’s track south to Kingman had been a success.
When Ryan pulled in the hotel parking lot, Marcheline’s Land Rover was still parked outside. Ryan choked back tears when he saw it, knowing he’d found his wife and baby. He had been terrified he wouldn’t make it in time.
Careful not to be detected, Bill hung back, then pulled in on the other side of the truck stop, not far behind.
Marcheline startled when there was a knock at the door. “Must be housekeeping,” she mumbled. Amelie was awake now, but Sabine was still asleep. With the baby on her hip, Marcheline stepped up to the door to look out the peephole. She trusted Carl and his reassurances about how she was safe, so she wasn’t worried. At least, she wasn’t too worried. But she was cautious. Who could be knocking?
The color drained from Marcheline’s face when she recognized the person standing on the other side.
17
“Ryan! Get in here,” Marcheline said as she opened the door and pulled h
er son-in-law inside, looking both ways to see if anyone was watching.
Ryan grabbed Amelie from Marcheline’s arms, then rushed to his wife and climbed into bed with her, cradling the two of them and holding them close.
“Marcheline, you had better have a damn good reason for taking my girls like this.”
“Yes, I know and I do,” Marcheline replied. “But first, we need to be sure you haven’t been followed. Did you tell anyone you were coming here?”
“No,” Ryan said. “Which was hard, because you know how close I am to my parents and my siblings. I had to resist the urge to pick up the phone. They will wonder what happened to us.”
“Did Rande tell you what was going on?”
“Yes, he told me, generally. He didn’t go into much detail.”
“Did Rande tell you where to find us? Because I explicitly told him not…”
“It was me,” Sabine said groggily, waking up. She hugged her husband tightly around the neck and kissed him on the lips. “I’m sorry, Mom,” she said.
“Sabine!” Marcheline said, stepping close to the window and peering out. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but figured she’d know it when she saw it. Hopefully.
“Marcheline,” Ryan began again. “Are you sure you’re not getting a little carried away here? This seems overkill. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but is everything okay with you?”
“It’s more complicated than that,” Sabine answered. Marcheline was glad to hear her daughter come to her defense, even though she didn’t know the whole story yet.
“I hope so,” Ryan replied. “I’d damn sure like to hear about it.” He kissed Amelie on the forehead as she cooed, the three of them the picture of a happy young family.
“We tried to get to you before we left town yesterday,” Sabine explained. “I called you a bunch of times.”
“I was in a meeting with a big commercial client,” Ryan said. “I’m so sorry I missed you. I had no idea…”