He steps into the living room with the suits right behind him. Not now!
He races to Mom. “What happened?” He’s got a bloody lip and blackened eye.
“I d-d-don’t know,” I stutter. “I came home and found her passed out on the stairs outside.”
He sits down in the chair next to the couch. “She needs help. She’s going to kill herself at this rate. They’re going to take her to a treatment facility.”
My eyes get huge. “They’re gonna lock her up somewhere? What happened to your face?”
“She hit me.”
Oh. My. God. “What about us, do we get to stay here?”
Dad glances at the suits, but they watch me. I recognize one of them—Agent Parker, the one who cut all my hair off. I wish Agent Thomas was on duty tonight.
Dad looks back to me. “Mom called the agents earlier and told them you had your memory back. We went to look for you at Pearl’s since you didn’t come home after work. They’re moving us to a safe house for a while. We’re not in the normal rush this time, so we can have a chance to pack first. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
“Did she remember talking to me about that night?” I say, trying not to panic.
Dad won’t look at me. “I let it slip,” he whispers.
I’m so screwed.
He moves some of the hair out of Mom’s face, then takes a washrag and cleans around her mouth. He’s so sweet and gentle, it’s almost hard to watch. He glances up at me. “Come help me pack for Mom.”
I follow him down the hall. The Feds know I remember. We can’t move. Not now. I’m leaving on Friday, but that won’t happen if we’re stuck in some safe house God knows where. And they’ll start drilling me about that night. Get me ready to testify. I was working out a plan, and now this.
Dad shuts the door, and I move to the dresser, pulling Mom’s clothes out.
“Sissy, have you remembered anything? Do you know anything about where the ledgers would be?”
I want to tell him, but I can’t. He’ll never get out of here unnoticed, and he’ll end up doing something crazy. And his plan is so stupid—handing them over to Sanchez won’t solve anything.
I turn from the dresser. “No, Dad. I’m sorry but I don’t.” I rush up to him, putting my arms around him. “Do we have to leave?”
“That’s what the agents want to do. I’ve tried to reason with them, but I didn’t get anywhere. They’re insisting. This changes things drastically now that you remember.”
I don’t like the way he says “insisting.” I’m tempted to tell him my plan, but he’ll never let me go alone. The best bet I have is to get the ledgers and make copies or something to use as insurance against these guys. That’s the only way we’ll be truly free.
I pull away from Dad, and together we pack Mom’s stuff.
While Dad gathers the last of her toiletry items together, I rush back to the living room. My mind is racing, running through possibilities. The room is empty except for Agent Parker. Mom’s gone, as well as the suit who was on his cell phone.
“Where’s my mother?” I ask.
“She’s been taken to a hospital. Her condition seemed serious enough that she needed to be examined.” Agent Parker stands in front of the door with her arms folded.
“You couldn’t come get us before they took her away?” I pace around the room.
“We thought it best for it to be done as smoothly as possible.”
Never a scene with these guys.
The suit watches me. She seems nervous, like she’s afraid I’m about to attack.
Time to get out of here.
It takes a second to alert Dad that Mom’s gone. He barrels down the hall, yelling at the agent, and I make a big production of crying and telling them I’m going to my room. That should keep them out of here for a while.
Within minutes, all my things, including the tracking device, are transferred to a Walmart bag I saved from the store. As fast as Agent Thomas found me in the coffee shop, I’m not a hundred percent sure my bag’s not bugged, so I’m leaving it behind.
I need to leave a note for Dad. I panic a moment, thinking of where I can put it so the suits don’t see it first. Dad is still in the living room arguing with the suit, so I tiptoe to his room and open the closet. I ball the paper up and stuff it inside his tennis shoe. He’ll feel it the second he puts it on. There’s money on the dresser, and I take it. I hate stealing from him, but there aren’t many options at this point. Since I haven’t gotten my check from Pearl yet, I’ll only have enough money for a one-way ticket. But I can’t worry about that right now.
Back in my room, I shrug on my hoodie and grab my heavy coat, glancing every other second at Teeny to make sure she’s still asleep.
I run to the window, throw it open, and look one last time at Teeny before I leave her.
Once outside, I wish the plastic bag wasn’t white, because it’s shining like a beacon.
I step around the building toward the back parking lot. I’m afraid to go past the front of the house. I’ve got to figure out how I’m going to get to Shreveport, and I won’t get far if I’m stuck on foot.
God! I had a plan. Maybe not the best plan out there, but it could’ve worked. And now it’s ruined. I run toward Front Street. Maybe I can get a cab to the interstate and then try to hitch a ride to Shreveport.
I walk one street over from my normal route. This section of town is deserted this time of night, as most stores and restaurants close early. It’s about eleven, and now I’m afraid I won’t find anyplace open where I can use a phone. I hit the cobblestone street and walk in the direction of the interstate. Hopefully I’ll come across a gas station soon.
A vehicle pulls out of a driveway, the lights sweeping the street.
I duck into an alleyway next to a souvenir shop and try to cram myself into a corner.
The vehicle stops right outside the store. God, I haven’t been gone twenty minutes and they already caught me.
“Meg? What are you doing?”
It’s Ethan.
RULES FOR DISAPPEARING
BY WITNESS PROTECTION PRISONER #18A7R04M:
Lay a false trail. Make it look like you’re going this way. Then everyone looks that way. Then when they’re going that way, you really go the other way. When everyone gets to where they thought you were, you’re somewhere else. Pretty simple, huh?
I throw myself at him. “What are you doing?” I should be pissed he’s here, but I’m not.
“Meg, what’s going on? I’ve been watching these dudes come in and out of your house for the last twenty minutes. I checked that tracker and about freaked when I saw it heading down Front Street. After seeing your mom tonight, I knew it couldn’t be her. I never even saw you leave.”
“I’ll tell you what I can, but we have to get out of here first.” I run to his truck.
He gets in and throws the truck into drive.
“I’m gonna ask a big favor. You can say no. I need you to drive me to Shreveport.”
Ethan slows down. “You have to tell me what’s going on.”
“I can’t, but don’t stop.” I wave my hands, urging him to keep going forward.
He stops the truck on the side of the road. “Bullshit. I saw your mom half dead outside. I see all these people in and out of your house. Then your vanishing act. We’re not going anywhere until you tell me everything.”
I keep checking out the back window. “Okay, but just drive.”
He doesn’t move.
“You know I’m not Meg Jones,” I begin. Ethan nods. My heart races. I can’t believe I’m about to say this out loud. “Well, I’m not Avery Preston, either.” Ethan’s head drops forward slightly. “My name is Anna Boyd. I’m from Scottsdale, Arizona. Right outside of Phoenix.”
I’m getting the what the hell look, and he hasn’t even heard the worst part yet.
“My family is in the Witness Protection Program. All those suits you saw at my house are part of the U.S. Mars
hals Office. We’re under their protection from some really nasty bad guys. The marshals will be looking for me soon, and I was hoping to get a little farther than two blocks down the road.” I put my hand over my mouth. There’s no going back now.
Ethan’s jaw drops, but at least he starts driving. He glances at me a few times. “Okay, spill it.”
“I can’t give you any details that will hurt you later. I’m sorry I’ve gotten you this involved, but trust me, you don’t want to know any more than necessary. I need to get out of this town. I need to get to Shreveport.” I’m almost sitting backward in the truck, keeping a lookout for any activity behind us.
“Why are you running from the marshals?” Ethan asks.
“I can’t tell you that. Even if you stop the truck again.” We stare at each other for a few seconds before he turns his attention back to the road.
“Will they be looking for you because they’re worried about you and want to make sure you’re safe, or really looking for you, using every resource the government has to track you down?”
I bite my bottom lip. “Probably closer to the second one.” The suits know I remember. They know I can testify now. They’ve been waiting me out for months and months. They won’t let me just run away.
“Where are you going once I take you to Shreveport?”
“Ethan, please. It’s better if you don’t know.”
He looks at me squarely. “Tell me or we stop right here.”
It looks like he means it. “I’m taking a bus to Scottsdale. I’m going home.”
The truck swerves. “Are you crazy? Why are you going to the first place they’ll look for you?” His voice is incredulous.
“You can let me out here, but I’m not telling you. I’ve told you too much as it is.”
Ethan shakes his head. “So U.S. Marshals are gonna be looking for you. Soon. Maybe even whoever these bad guys are, too. And you’re gonna get on a bus and head to Scottsdale?”
Okay, the way he says it does shoot a few holes in the competency of my plan. “Yes. I did have a really good plan, but everything got screwed up. I wasn’t planning on leaving until Friday. Things have changed, and I have to go tonight.”
“Do you have any money?”
There’s cash in my bag. Between what I already had and what I stole from Dad, it’s about one hundred seventy-five bucks.
“Yes.”
Ethan makes a couple of turns as I continue to stare out the back windshield. I get that creepy hair-standing-up-on-the-back-of-my-neck feeling when a black Suburban a few cars back makes every turn with us.
“Uh-oh.”
Ethan’s head swivels around. “What do you mean uh-oh?”
It looks like the same Suburban that was in the parking lot the night the power went out in the laundry room and that was behind us on the way to Ethan’s last night. “There’s an SUV following us. I think I’ve seen it before.”
“Is it the marshals?” Ethan makes a quick right turn, and a few seconds later, the Suburban does the same.
My palms get sweaty. “Don’t know for sure.” It’s physically hard to get my next sentence out. “Maybe not.”
Ethan swears under his breath and makes a quick left turn, the speed of the truck increasing.
I twist in my seat, scanning the area for any other vehicles. Shit! What are we supposed to do now?
“Hold on.” Ethan throws an arm across me and makes a very sharp turn.
“Where are we going?” I glance at the speedometer, which is inching up to seventy miles an hour. The Suburban isn’t far behind us.
“The farm.”
The farm! What are we going to do at the farm? Sic the hog dogs on them? I don’t say what I’m thinking; I just hold on and watch for the SUV.
When we get close, Ethan pulls out a square device from under his seat. He clicks it, and I see the slow mechanical gate start opening.
The tires squeal when we make the turn onto the farm road. He clicks it again, just as we pass through the opening. The Suburban slows in front of the gate. It’s almost all the way closed now. A few seconds later, the Suburban pulls away. I collapse in the seat.
“What do we do now?”
“We’re going out the back side. It takes five or six minutes cutting through the farm, but twenty if you have to go around. And that’s only if you know where the other side comes out.”
The farm is pitch-black. The crop rows flicker past the window, and I’m mesmerized watching them.
We finally get to the other gate, and Ethan clicks it open. We sit at the road for a few seconds but don’t see any lights either direction.
Ethan peels out of the farm. We drive for a few more minutes before pulling into a dark, gravel driveway. It’s long, probably half a mile.
“What are you doing now?”
“Saving your ass. You won’t make it out of Louisiana if I put you on a bus.” He grabs his phone and his coat and hops out of the truck. My body is glued to the seat until he pounds on the hood of the truck to get me moving.
This is more than I bargained for. I can’t put him right in the middle of my disaster. “Wait. Ethan, this is too dangerous. Maybe you should take me home.”
He stops and turns to me. “If I take you home, will that stop you from trying to get to Arizona?”
I don’t answer for a few seconds. “No. I have to go back.”
He spins back around and heads toward a house next to the driveway. He’s walking fast, and I have to hurry to keep up.
He says over his shoulder, “I don’t think that was the marshals. The gate wouldn’t have stopped them. If it is whoever is after you, I don’t know why they didn’t bust through the gate. Maybe they’re waiting us out. Thinking we couldn’t get off the farm another way. I’m guessing the marshals don’t know you’re missing yet. When do you think they’ll figure it out?”
I think for a second. “Probably around six in the morning. They’re planning to relocate us first thing. I don’t think they’ll come in my room until then.”
This makes Ethan stop cold.
“They’re moving you?”
I almost run into his back. He sounds pissed. “That’s why I have to go tonight. Tomorrow will be too late.”
He looks at me a moment, then turns around and starts walking again. He glances at his watch. “It’s about eleven thirty now, so six and a half hours.”
We walk up a few steps to the back door. Ethan knocks loudly.
A light pops on just as the door opens. It’s Pearl.
“What in the holy hell are you two doing out here?”
“Pearl, we need a car, some money, maybe pillows and blankets, food, and water.”
She eyes Ethan carefully, then looks at me. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
I nod. “Yes, but I didn’t do anything bad.” I feel guilty, the way she’s looking at me. “My family is in some trouble, and I’m trying to get us out of it,” I say softly. “I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t.”
She holds her stare for a few seconds. Probably the longest few seconds of my life. She’s either going to help us or try to turn me in.
“Well, come on in and let’s get you what you need.”
Ethan and I follow her in to the kitchen, where she grabs a small ice chest from the pantry and starts filling it with food. Ethan grabs several bottles of water and a few Cokes. Pearl hands him a paper bag to put them in. They work together in silence, Pearl never asking a single question.
I’m shocked. We could have just robbed a bank, or killed someone, and she’s making us lunch to go.
She digs around in her purse. “I guess you only want cash.”
“Please,” Ethan answers.
She pulls out several one hundred dollar bills and hands them to Ethan. “This is all I have on me here.”
“That’s enough. We both have some money, too.” He shoves the bills into his back pocket.
I look at Pearl. “I’m so sorry to show up here like this. I’ll p
ay you back.”
“Just get yourself back here safe.” She puts her hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “You’re a good boy. I trust you, maybe more than I should. Don’t make me sorry for it.”
He hugs her tightly. “I won’t. I’ll explain everything when we get back.”
Pearl lets him go and turns to me. “Is Mary all right?”
“Yes. She’s with my dad.”
Pearl looks back at Ethan. “What about your parents?”
“I’ll send them a message once we get going.”
She hugs him one last time. “You’re positive this is something you can handle?”
I look between them. There is so much Ethan doesn’t know. I start to speak, to tell them both I’ll do this on my own, but Ethan looks directly at me, and his expression tells me not to say anything.
He whispers to Pearl, “Meg needs me.”
“Well, let’s get you a car so y’all can get out of here.”
We follow Pearl to a barn out back. Ethan helps her open the two huge double doors. There are three different cars and one truck inside.
Ethan walks to a black car in the back. “This one still in Fred’s name?”
Pearl’s left eyebrow pops up. “Yeah.” She walks to a cabinet on the wall to get out the keys, then tosses them to Ethan.
“What kind of car is that?” I ask.
Two sets of eyes flicker to me. “Girl, that’s a 1970 Ford Mustang. I shouldn’t even let you ride in this car if you don’t know what it is.”
“Sorry, cars aren’t really my thing.” I let out a small, nervous laugh.
Pearl comes close and hugs me. Her embrace is so warm and tight, I can hardly make myself let go.
“If I can, I’ll call Fred to get a message to you. I’m gonna drive my truck around to the old barn,” Ethan says.
Pearl nods. “I’ll try real hard not to be scared watching the two of you pull out of here like this.”
“Pearl, we’ll be fine.” I hug her one more time.
We throw our things in the back of the car, including the ice chest and drinks, and get inside.
Pearl steps up to the car, and I roll the window down. She pokes her head in. “I’ll tell whoever’s asking that I haven’t see you.”
The Rules for Disappearing Page 20