I take a drink of my Coke, thinking about the best way to answer this. “I’m not. Sanchez, the man who killed my dad’s boss and his son, has sent someone after me. He knows I know where the ledgers are, and he wants them back or he’ll kill my family. The suits can’t protect us from him. Dad wants to make a deal with him—the ledgers for our safety. But he shot my friend Brandon just for walking into the room. I don’t know how smart it is to make a deal with these people.”
Ethan has stopped eating, and his mouth is hanging slightly open. “Holy shit.” He stuffs the rest of his food into the paper bag we’re using for trash. “Holy. Shit.”
I feel guilty now. This is so much more than he thought he was getting into.
“You can let me out here. I’ll find a way to Scottsdale. I’m so sorry for dragging you into this.” I start gathering my things, and Ethan puts a hand on my arm to stop.
“Can you please just give me a minute to let this crazy shit sink in before you decide to run away?”
He leans his head against the back of the seat. “So if you aren’t giving the ledgers to the Feds and you aren’t sure about giving them to this Sanchez guy, what are you going to do with them?”
I lift my shoulders and say, “I haven’t worked that out completely. The original plan did not include being chased by suits and killers! I was going to have some time to figure it out.”
Ethan gathers our trash and hops out of the car to throw it away. I pack everything else in the cooler.
Once he’s back in the car, he says, “Let’s worry about getting the ledgers first, then we’ll figure out what to do with them. We need to get back on the road. It’s already ten thirty. I’m sure they’ve been looking for a while now, and we still have a long-ass way to go.”
Reality check. As much as I want this to be some great little getaway with my cute boyfriend, it’s not. I look at the map. Long-ass way is right.
Ethan thankfully changes the subject once we’re back on the road. “Tell me the worst place you lived.”
I sip on my water and answer, “Definitely our first move. It was Hillsboro, Ohio. None of us understood what any of this meant. We were jerked out of our home, lost our friends. I was used to Scottsdale. It was the first two weeks of the summer before my senior year. Always sunny, always something to do. They plopped us down in this ridiculously small town. School was out, so there was no real way to even meet people. They put us in this tiny little house in a semi-bad area. I had no car, nothing. It was horrible.”
“How long were you there?”
“Not long. Maybe four weeks.”
“What was your name there?”
“Madeline Holmes. Teeny’s name was Hayden.”
Ethan moves his cap over his head a few times. “Do you get to pick your names or what?”
“The suits give us our last name and we get to pick our first name. Teeny picks people off TV.”
Ethan laughs. “What’d you do? Just come up with a name? This is crazy.”
I laugh back. “It is crazy. Picking my name was the hardest part for me. Each time we moved somewhere, I thought I better pick a good name because I’ll be stuck with it forever. Never thought I’d go through so many in such a short period of time.”
This seems to be fascinating to Ethan. “Okay, so why did you have to leave Ohio? Did something happen?” he asks.
I curl up in the passenger seat with the blanket. It’s really cold out in this barren part of west Texas. “That placement was only a transitional one. They explained to us about the program and what would be involved. We knew going into Ohio that we wouldn’t stay there long. I didn’t stress as bad about my name there, but it was still a big deal because it was my first fake name.”
“So where after Ohio?”
“Springfield, Missouri. After being in Hillsboro, I was actually excited about this move. Springfield was tons bigger. Our house was decent, and there were kids our age down the street. We moved there in the middle of July.”
Ethan had bought a cheap pair of sunglasses at the last stop, so I can’t see his eyes, but I can tell he’s getting a kick out of this, for some insane reason.
“What was your name there?”
“Isabelle Mancini, and Teeny was Vanessa.”
Ethan pulls down the shades and says, “Italian, really?”
I imagine myself back in Springfield, my high hopes there, and how naive I was. “Yes, and I really embraced it. Made sure my first name sounded Italian, too.”
“So what caused that move?”
I look down into the folds of my blanket. “That move was my fault.” I tell him about going to the party and my drunken escapade on the Internet. And the birth of the go-bag.
“That sucks. How fast after you used the Internet did they come get you?” he asks.
“I’m not sure. I passed out next to the computer. Maybe a couple of hours.”
Ethan stares out the windshield, and I know what he’s thinking. This kind of response time does not work well for us and our current situation.
“We were only there about four weeks,” I add.
We travel the next few miles in silence. Ethan seems lost in his thoughts. I pick at the blanket. Finally, he turns to me again, recovering some of his earlier enthusiasm.
“Where next?”
“Naples, Florida.”
“Avery Preston. I was wondering when we were gonna get to her.”
I snuggle in the blanket. “I loved Naples. It reminded me the most of Scottsdale. We lived in an apartment three blocks from the beach. We were there the longest, ten weeks maybe. You said you fished Paradise Coast?”
“Yeah. Me, Dad, Ben, and his dad. I was ten.” He pushes his hat up on his head.
“Y’all were close.”
He smirks. “Listen to you. Y’all. You’re halfway to being a Southern girl.”
I pull the blanket up to hide my grin. “What’s the other half?”
“You gotta eat a piece of Pearl’s Cajun pizza. And love it.”
I make a fake gagging motion. “No way in hell. That’s just wrong to put all that on a pizza.”
“What was Teeny’s name in Naples?”
“Sydney.” I wonder if they hounded her this morning about where I was, or if she shut down with Mom gone.
“Naples is cool. We stayed there one night.”
I nod. “That was the hardest one to leave. I made friends, joined some clubs at school. We were there until the end of October. It was tough when we left.”
“What caused that move?”
I shrug. “No idea. They just showed up and we were gone.” It seems forever ago that I sat in that apartment and waited for Tyler. Leaving him was nothing compared to what it would be like to leave Ethan.
Ethan takes his sunglasses off and rubs his hands over his eyes. “You know how bizarre this is, don’t you? I can’t imagine moving like that, changing names.”
“You have no idea.”
He voice gets soft. “When did your mom’s drinking get worse?”
I swallow hard and beg myself not to tear up talking about this again. “When we left Florida. The suits dropped us in Bardstown, Kentucky. Talk about shell shock. It was almost worse than leaving Scottsdale for Ohio. Florida was doable. I could have stayed in Florida.” Knowing he is about to ask, I add, “I was Olivia Taylor, and Teeny was Amanda.”
“How long were you there?”
I lean against the door and run my hands through my hair. “Almost two months. We left right before Christmas. And I don’t know what happened there either.”
“Okay, so that’s four places. One more before Natchitoches?”
“Yeah. Conway, South Carolina. I was Gabrielle Chandler, and Teeny was Sabrina.”
He laughs. “You went for fancy names, didn’t you?”
Madeline, Isabelle, Gabrielle, Olivia. “Yeah, I guess I did.” I hadn’t really thought about them all together like that.
“Meg was a good choice. It fits you. The others are
a little too…I don’t know, too much. So how was South Carolina?”
“Pretty cool—better than Bardstown, really, but my family was going down the drain. We could’ve been anywhere; it didn’t matter. We were there until we came to Natchitoches. It was a scary move. They came in the middle of the night and yanked us out of bed.”
Ethan’s eyes get big. “You’re shitting me.”
“No. One minute I’m sound asleep, the next I’m in the van.”
“And then you’re sitting in the office of my high school. No wonder you didn’t want anything to do with anybody. I’m surprised you talked to me at all.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. He gets it. He understands. I reach my hand over and hold his.
“That was my plan. No friends. I hate leaving people behind.” I rub my thumb over his hand. “It would’ve devastated me to leave you. To never see you again. And then for you to wonder where I went. I didn’t want that.”
Ethan glances from me to the road and back. “I don’t want that either.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “Anna,” he says quietly. It’s the first time he’s said my real name. He watches the road a few minutes more, then says, “It’s nice to meet you, Anna Boyd.”
By midafternoon we’re headed down I-10 toward New Mexico, a stretch of interstate that runs close to the Mexican border. I’ve napped off and on, but now I’m just trying to find something decent on the radio.
“I really miss my iPod right about now,” I say, turning the small knob across the FM dial.
Ethan laughs. “Yeah, in these parts it’s either gonna be mariachi or country.”
I snarl at the radio. At least it’s warmer here. I’ve shed a few layers, and we may actually have to turn the air conditioner on soon.
Ethan points to a sign up ahead. “Let’s stop when we get to El Paso. I gotta get out of this car awhile. We’ll find somewhere to eat.”
I nod. I’m getting cabin fever, too. It’s better to have silence than the noise coming across the radio, so I cut it off.
“How pissed do you think your parents are going to be that you did this?” I ask.
“Dad’ll be furious. Mom will just be worried, but I’m eighteen. I can legally come and go as I please.” His face is smug.
“My dad is probably freaking out. I bet they still tried to move them, but he won’t leave while I’m gone.”
Ethan takes the off-ramp, and we both look at our roadside restaurant choices. Mexican, hamburgers, or truck stop diner.
I shrug, not really caring which one we go to.
He pulls into the parking lot of Dos Amigos restaurant. It’s a seat-yourself kind of place, so we take a booth in the back. This restaurant looks sketchy. It’s old and the painted walls were probably once pretty vivid, but now it’s just faded red, green, and yellow. The floors are worn, and the vinyl cushions in the booth are cut in places. But the smells coming out of the kitchen are incredible. It’s late for the lunch crowd, so there aren’t many people inside.
A young Hispanic girl approaches our table carrying water, menus, chips, and salsa. “Hola. You want something to drink?” Her accent is thick.
Ethan looks at me before answering. “Two Cokes.”
The waitress leaves, and we both look at the TV in the corner of the room. The news is on and we watch it for a few minutes.
“Do you think the Feds will go public with their search for you?” he asks.
I shrug my shoulders. “I would think no because they wouldn’t want to show my picture and name. The real one or the fake one.”
“That’s what I hope, too. It’d suck if we were all over the news like some wanted felons.”
“Well, they have to go easy here. We’re in the program for protection. It’s not like we did something wrong and are giving evidence to get out of trouble.” I hate to admit that was what I thought was the deal.
The waitress brings the drinks, and we order. I can’t say I’m very adventurous when it comes to food, so I stick with two tacos, rice, and beans. Ethan, on the other hand, goes for some crazy combination platter. We talk awhile about regular things, both of us wanting a break from what we’re really on this trip for. But it doesn’t last long.
“We need to talk about your plan once we get to Scottsdale,” Ethan says, scooping a huge amount of rice into his mouth.
“Price lives in the same neighborhood my friend Elle does. It’s a gated neighborhood inside a gated community. It’s a big house, but the office is on the bottom floor, right off the main hall.”
“Does anyone else live there? A wife, other kids?”
“He was remarried to some young woman, but Brandon was his only son. I’m not sure if she still lives there now that Mr. Price is gone.” I push my plate away. Just talking about this has gotten me so nervous that I lose my appetite.
“Okay, we have to plan for extra security getting into the neighborhood. We need to assume that the FBI or marshals are watching Price’s house. We have to decide how to get in if no one lives there and it’s all locked up, or if the wife is home.”
“I’m kinda hoping no one is home,” I say.
Ethan looks at me, confused. “You think that’d make it easier?”
I take a sip of my Coke. “She’ll recognize me!”
He laughs quietly. “Well, I don’t know anything about picking locks or disarming alarm systems. Do you?”
“No.”
“Are you going to be okay going back there?”
I swallow hard. “I’m gonna have to be, right?”
Ethan finally says, “Anna, once they figure out we’re not in Mississippi, they’re gonna guess we’re going to Scottsdale. They’re probably already there now.”
I stare down in my drink and watch the ice swirl as I stir it with my straw. “I know.”
I describe the house as best I can and the neighborhood layout. We talk about possible entry points and all the things that could go wrong. I tell him where Elle’s house is in relation to Price’s. I tell him everything but the exact name of the subdivision.
This is insane. Nuts. I can’t believe we are sitting here having this conversation. Ethan’s right. It won’t take the suits long to figure out we’re not in Mississippi. And whoever is working for Sanchez could be right behind us, for all I know. The more we talk about the plan, the more scared I get. It was crazy involving him in this. I should’ve come up with a different plan.
It may piss him off, but there’s no way I’m letting him get anywhere near Price’s house now.
RULES FOR DISAPPEARING
BY WITNESS PROTECTION PRISONER #18A7R04M:
Never, under any circumstances, try to reenter your old life in any way. You left for a reason, right?
WE’RE back on the road, making our way through New Mexico. I’m driving, giving Ethan a chance to nap. We’ve been on the road for over fifteen hours now, and we’re both feeling exhausted. According to the map, we’re only going to be in New Mexico for a short time, but it feels like forever.
Ethan snores softly in the passenger seat. I run through the layout of The Canyons in my head. My house was in the same golf community as the Prices’ but in a different neighborhood. While our house was nice, theirs was over the top, located in the exclusive section called The Reserve. It has its own security guard to get past. That makes two guards I’ll have to deal with.
I’m not as worried about the main guard station at the entrance. The Canyons is broken down into several smaller neighborhoods as well as the country club that serves the golf course. There’re a million reasons I can come up with to get inside, but I’m more concerned with getting into The Reserve. That guard will be harder to lie to. They have to call in for permission to let you pass if you’re not on the list. I used to go to Elle’s all the time. They recognized me by sight and never stopped me to ask where I was going. That’s how I got to Brandon’s the night of the shooting without anyone knowing I was coming.
Ethan rolls around a little, try
ing to get comfortable.
I hope Teeny’s okay. And Mom and Dad. Dad’s probably worried sick.
Staring at the road, I think back on all the tiny little clues I missed before. I feel like all the pieces have fallen into place. Everything except what triggered all the moves. What was happening that made us run from placement to placement? I hate that I may never know that.
Ethan throws his arms out and says with a yawn, “Where are we now?”
He’s so cute when he first wakes up. “Close to the Arizona border. Once we cross the line, it’s about three more hours.” The sun is low in the sky and it’ll be dark soon.
Ethan groans. “Stop at the next gas station. We’ll get some gas and use the bathroom. I gotta stretch my legs.”
I spot a sign and get off the interstate. In the store, I buy a couple of candy bars and gum, looking for some sugar to keep me going. Ethan finishes pumping the fuel and gets in the driver’s seat. Before long, we’re back on the interstate.
I hand him a chocolate bar, which he devours in two bites. “Ya know, we’re gonna have to find a room somewhere. It’s gonna be late when we get there, and we don’t have our plan nailed down yet.”
I agree. Plus, I’m still figuring out how I’ll leave him behind when the time comes.
“It’ll be better to find a motel in Phoenix. Everything close to where Price lives is pretty expensive, and I’m sure they’ll require some sort of ID.”
Ethan nods. “Yeah, I was thinking we need some run-down place. Somewhere that’s not too concerned about who’s checking in.”
I dig through my plastic bag and pull out an old book. I open it to the back cover and pry off a piece of duct tape.
Ethan watches me. “What’s that?”
I finish getting the tape off and show him the ID underneath it. “It’s an ID card in one of my fake names. I’ve never been allowed to have a driver’s license, but I did get an ID card in Florida. I knew if we had to move that they would take it from me, so I hid it. They asked me about it, but I told them I lost it. They changed my birthday at every move, so this ID already has me at eighteen.”
I pass the ID to Ethan, and he holds it close to look at the picture.
The Rules for Disappearing Page 22