by Thomas Perry
Chelsea looked at her and walked along for a minute in silence. “I want to go.”
“Think about it some more while we’re driving,” the woman said. “We’ll stop at your house so you can take two minutes to throw some clothes into an overnight bag.”
“I don’t think I can,” said Chelsea. “The man who did this—Dan Crane—has a bunch of other guys working for him. They could be waiting for me at my house.”
“We’ll look before we go in,” said Jane.
They drove to Chelsea’s house. Jane drove by and made sure there was no other car parked by the house or behind it, and then parked and took Chelsea through the field behind her house. As they went up on the porch the first thing they saw was that a window in the back door was broken so someone could reach the dead bolt, and the door was now closed but unlocked. “They’ve been here,” Chelsea said.
“Get packed. I’ll keep watch.”
Chelsea returned in a few minutes wearing fresh clothes—a pair of long pants and a long-sleeved pullover, and carrying an overnight bag over her shoulder.
They went out the back door and down the steps to the field. As they were crossing the field, a pair of headlights appeared and turned down the long driveway toward Chelsea’s house. The car pulled up at the house, and three men got out. Jane said, “The two men from the hospital must have called and told them you were coming home.”
Chelsea said, “I recognize a couple of them. That’s Allen, and that one is Gerhardt. I can’t see the other one’s face.”
They hurried through the field in silence for a time, and then Chelsea said, “I can’t believe they’re doing this. They all worked with Nick. They were supposed to be his friends, but now that he’s dead, they’ve all turned on me.”
When they reached the car, Jane started it and they moved off in the opposite direction.
“Where are we going now?” asked Chelsea.
“We’ll risk one more stop so I can make some arrangements. If you still want to do this when I’m ready, we’ll go.”
They went to Jane’s hotel on Niagara Falls Boulevard, where she used one of the computers in the hotel’s business center to make plane reservations.
She handed Chelsea a couple of pages printed from the computer. “Here’s your itinerary. You’ve got a plane leaving in three hours. That sounds like a long time but it isn’t, because we’ve got a lot to talk about before you leave.”
“Like what?”
“Some of it is unpleasant, but you need to know.”
They went upstairs to Jane’s room. Chelsea sat at the small table while Jane changed her clothes in the bathroom, and then came back and sat in the chair across from hers. Chelsea said, “What do you have to tell me?”
“I’ll start with the hard parts. Your boyfriend Nick was a thief. Hidden in your basement there is a set of burglary tools—a kit for breaking in to houses.”
Chelsea laughed, sounding partly sad and partly relieved. “That? That’s a mistake. He worked at one of those storage places. Sometimes people leave their stuff in storage and never come back. If they stop paying for a certain number of months, the storage people have to break in.”
Jane looked at her. “How do the mask and the gun fit into that job?”
“What are you talking about? Nick didn’t have a gun.”
“He didn’t show you a gun. He had one, and he kept it in the toolbox under the workbench. Loaded. There was a slim-jim for opening car locks, a crowbar, a set of bump keys that burglars use for opening house locks. He also hid some jewelry in the salt bags in the basement.”
“For me, maybe. It was probably presents he was hiding as a surprise.”
“Some was women’s jewelry. But I doubt that fifteen men’s watches, a dozen men’s rings, and four sets of cuff links and tie clasps were for you.”
Chelsea lowered her head and began to cry.
“I’m sorry,” said Jane. “I had to tell you now, before we go any further with this. I took pictures of those things with my phone.” She pushed the symbol to bring up her photo collection and handed it to Chelsea.
Chelsea looked at the pictures, one by one, and then handed the phone back to Jane. “Nick too.” She sobbed again, and kept crying for a time. “I saw that toolbox whenever I was down there—a couple of times a week, maybe. How could I be so stupid?”
“He was in the business of looking innocent, and he was pretty good at it, apparently. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Maybe, but that’s the second thing you’ve told me isn’t my fault. I should be locked up for my own good. I can’t seem to pick a man who isn’t some kind of criminal.”
Jane patted her arm gently. “There are a lot of people who go through life unguarded and without suspicion, and some of them live long and happy lives. But if I were you, I’d probably not let the next man pick me.”
Chelsea gave a little smile. “That’s probably not a bad idea.”
“Right now it’s time to concentrate on staying safe while you make plans to have a future.”
“I don’t know much about what I want to do. Right now I want to get somewhere far away from Daniel Crane. I want to stop the clock, to stop having things happen, you know? I want to get past the things that have already happened, but mostly, I want to get away from here.”
“That’s what we’re about to do. Have you looked at your itinerary?”
Chelsea opened the folded papers and looked. “New York. Then Manchester, New Hampshire? What’s there?”
“A very nice, kind older woman will be at the Manchester airport. She’ll drive you the rest of the way. You’re going to an apartment in a small town. She and her son are people I’ve brought there for their protection, just like you. If you go through with this, you’ll have to remember that keeping their secret is part of the bargain you made. She—”
Chelsea cut her off. “I will. I promise.”
“Wait. Before you promise, I have to tell you more. The woman is named Mattie Sanders. Her son is Jimmy Sanders.”
Chelsea recoiled. “Is this all a trap or something? I thought you were trying to help me.”
“Jimmy is as innocent as you are. He didn’t kill Nick. He didn’t even want to fight with him. Nick swung at him, and he defended himself. He never did anything else at the time, and never saw him again.”
Chelsea looked at Jane in desperation. “Please don’t be lying to me.”
“I’m not. You can go now and never see me again. Or I can put you somewhere else alone, away from the Sanderses if you want. But you’d have nobody to talk to, nobody to protect you, nobody to even know it if something happened to you. I’d advise you to trust me, and to let me trust you.”
Chelsea studied Jane’s face for a few seconds, then sighed. “I’ve already trusted you enough to go this far. And you saw those men at my house. I can’t stay here. There’s nowhere that’s safe. And I notice that you’re the one in the position to help other people. Not the one who’s been sleeping with a thief and then a rapist. So I guess I ought to listen to you.”
“All right,” said Jane. “Then let’s get to the airport.”
They arrived at the Buffalo airport as the sky was beginning to show signs that sunrise was not far off. Jane said, “Your flight leaves in an hour and a half. Do you think you’d like a midnight snack?”
“I think I’ll call it breakfast.”
Jane took Chelsea’s small carry-on bag out of the trunk and they walked into the airport terminal. Most of the concessions in the building still had steel cages across their entrances, but there was one restaurant that was open, with several employees rattling pans, brewing coffee, and firing up stoves in the kitchen area.
They bought coffee and fresh muffins because those were the only things that w
ere ready, and sat at a table together. “Don’t forget to mention that Jane sent you. If you don’t know at least that much, Mattie might not be comfortable with you.”
“You mean she’ll think you don’t trust me.”
“That’s exactly what I mean. Tell her I’m sorry I couldn’t come with you, but I’m still looking at things here.” Jane detected a change in Chelsea. The girl’s face was pale, her eyes widened. She hunched her shoulders and stared down at the table, then raised one hand to her brow as though she were shielding her eyes from a glare. “What is it? See somebody?”
“It’s two more of the men who worked with Nick.”
Jane lifted her eyes and scanned the trickle of people coming into the broad open area between the entrance and the line of airline ticket counters. The two men were in their late twenties. They didn’t walk to the counters or head for the security checkpoint to reach the gates. Jane said, “Go into the ladies’ room behind us and wait for me.”
Jane went to stand at an electronic board that listed arrivals and departures and then to the row of ticket counters. She bought herself a ticket to Albany, the closest destination that was listed for an early morning takeoff. While she was in line she got a chance to study the two men. They had no luggage, not even a jacket that might hold a ticket. They were in fairly good condition, men who did something physical rather than mental for a living, but not something strenuous enough to give them the sinewy forearms of laborers. She didn’t see anything on either of them that might be a weapon. She decided that Daniel Crane had sent them to keep Chelsea from leaving town, or at least to see it if she did. Jane paid cash for her ticket. She went into the airport store just as the clerks finished opening it and walked to the back to look at the display of scarves. A few minutes later she arrived at the ladies’ room where Chelsea was waiting.
For the moment, this ladies’ room was empty and they were alone. She said, “We should go through security. Once we’re in there, I’m not especially concerned about those two doing you any harm.”
“You can’t go through security without a ticket.”
Jane held up her boarding pass. “I bought a ticket to Albany.” She opened the paper bag from the store and extracted a gray scarf. In answer to Chelsea’s confused expression, she said, “The security area is all out in the open. Let me see what I can do about changing how we look.”
She draped the scarf over Chelsea’s head, and wrapped the longer side once around Chelsea’s neck.
Chelsea turned to the mirror. “One of those things Muslim ladies wear?”
“A hijab. We’ve got to hide all that blond hair. We’re within a few miles of two good-size universities and a lot of little colleges, and people from everywhere visit Niagara Falls. The TSA people have seen these before.”
Jane took a black scarf out of her paper bag and made it into a hijab for herself.
“You too?” said Chelsea. “They don’t know you.”
“Two is better. Stay with me, and keep your face down. Don’t look for those two men, just stare ahead and get through security as quickly as possible.” Jane stepped out of the ladies’ room with the carry-on bag over her shoulder, and Chelsea followed.
The security area took up the first part of the terminal after the ticket counters, but at this hour of the morning the crowds were very thin and the stanchions and straps were arranged to keep the route to the first checkpoint direct. First Jane, then Chelsea showed her boarding pass and driver’s license to the woman at the podium. They moved to the conveyer belt where they put their shoes in plastic bins and set them with the carry-on bag on the belt, and then stepped into the x-ray machine and out the other side.
Jane and Chelsea picked up their shoes and the bag and hurried on around the corner to the first waiting area where they were shielded from the view of people outside the secure area before they put them on. Jane watched the people who walked by. “Don’t take off the scarf just yet. Those two may still figure out that the place to see who’s flying out is here.”
“Okay.”
“Tell me their names.”
“Bill Thompson is the tall one and Wesley Harriman is the other one.”
“And they worked with Nick. In other words they work for Dan Crane.”
“Yes.” Chelsea moved her eyes to the stream of people coming past, as though talking about them might make them come.
“I guess the others must have called them, and said you were probably running.”
“Couldn’t it just be a coincidence? There’s only one airport, and one of them might be flying somewhere today, not looking for me at all.”
“I’m not a big believer in coincidences. Either way, we don’t want them to see you, even by accident. What I want you to do is go into the ladies’ room down there by gate six. Wait until I get there or you hear the second announcement that your flight to New York is boarding.”
“All right.” Chelsea got up and walked off toward the ladies’ room.
Jane watched the people coming out of the security area for a few minutes. Then she got up and went to gate six to wait. Most of the waiting areas were nearly empty, but gate six was full of people. There were going to be a lot of Buffalo people in New York City this morning. She kept her eyes on the concourse most of the time to be sure Thompson and Harriman didn’t show up.
After about ten minutes she saw the two men come around the corner onto the concourse. She stood up and walked to the ladies’ room. She had almost convinced herself that they had been fooled or given up, but they hadn’t. They must have bought tickets to get this far, and in a moment they would notice that gate six was the only waiting area that was full. The New York flight was going to be the first flight out, and it was the one to watch.
Jane found Chelsea waiting for her and told her what she’d seen. “We can’t let those men follow you onto a plane or even see which one you take.” She took off her scarf and set it on the shelf below the mirror.
“What are we going to do?”
“First we change clothes. I saw a pair of gray pants and a blouse in your bag. Put them on, and give me what you’re wearing now.”
They changed clothes quickly, and then Jane retied the two hijabs, with Chelsea wearing Jane’s. She put her own clothes in the trash. Next she opened her purse and took out a stack of hundred dollar bills, held it up, and put it into Chelsea’s bag. She took out a credit card and handed it to Chelsea.
She looked at it. “You’re Gail Stein?”
“Sometimes.” She held out her boarding pass and plucked the other from Chelsea’s hand. “We need a change of plans. You’re going to fly to Albany. They’ve already checked our IDs for the last time, so you can use my boarding pass. When you get there, use some of the cash to buy your ticket to Manchester.”
“What’s the credit card for?”
“The unexpected. The card’s limit is twelve thousand and Gail Stein pays her bills, so don’t be afraid to use it if you need to.”
The loudspeaker in the ceiling blared, “United flight twenty-four thirty to JFK New York City is ready for boarding at gate six.” As the female voice launched into its repetition Jane said, “That’s it. We’ll stay here until they call for the Albany flight.”
The flight to New York was announced again and again, and Jane could tell they were trying to get the missing woman passenger to show up. Finally there was a “last call” message. Jane and Chelsea waited. Now other women were coming in and out, so they pretended to be freshening their makeup. After a few minutes Jane put their scarves on again, arranging them carefully to cover their hair.
At last, they heard the call. “Flight fifty-seven eighty-two to Albany is boarding at gate number three. Flight five seven eight two is ready for boarding at gate three.”
Jane took Chelsea aside. “That’s yo
ur flight. Wait for them to give the final call for boarding, and then come out of here fast and straight into the line. Keep your eyes down and get into the boarding tunnel as soon as possible.” She hugged her, then released her. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Good-bye.”
Jane stepped out of the ladies’ room, kept her head down, and walked quickly past gate 6. There were two airline employees stationed at the desk, and one of them typed something into her computer to make the display change to show a flight leaving for Chicago. She heard a male voice far behind her say the word “Chelsea,” but the other man said something that silenced him.
Jane increased her speed, moving quickly back toward the security area. She turned the corner, stepped into the space beside the security area into the clear corridor for arriving passengers to leave the secure area, and kept going. She edged into a group who seemed to be just off one of the first flights to land, and kept with them. She knew the two men were following her at a distance, thinking she was Chelsea. They probably couldn’t believe their luck. As soon as she was alone, they would move in and try to take her.
Jane reached the open part of the terminal and kept going. She stepped into another ladies’ room. As soon as she was inside, she took off Chelsea’s scarf and put it into her purse. She tied back her hair, retied her running shoes, and slung her purse across her chest.
She waited until she heard the announcement for the flight to Albany, and then heard it again a few minutes later. She heard the voice warn that this was the final call. After ten more minutes, she was sure the flight had left. She took two deep breaths, and then stepped out of the ladies’ room.
She walked past the ticket counters and along the glass front of the terminal, and caught her own reflection. It would have been hard to look less like Chelsea Schnell than Jane did. She was taller, her hair was longer and jet black, and her skin was olive. Near the doors there was a glass panel at right angles to the others, and she saw the reflection of the two men, now waiting outside the ladies’ room she had just left, watching the door and expecting the blond Chelsea to appear at any second.