Kat put her hand on my arm. “And by the way, don’t think you’re leaving without me.”
I patted her hand. “No way, you’ve already sacrificed too much.”
Kat sat up straighter. “You need somebody to watch your back, and I’m pretty damn good at it, if I do say so myself.”
Billi Jo plopped her elbow on the bar and rested her cheek in her palm. “What am I, chopped liver?”
I tried to reason. “We got away with the three of us traveling together once, but I don’t think we should press our luck this time around—especially since our pictures have been all over the place. You two should stay here.”
“River, you’ve got a good point there,” Charlie said, “but I don’t agree with your solo travel plan. At least Kat should go with you.”
“Well, I guess it’s all settled then,” Kat gloated. “You can thank me later.”
Billi Jo leaned over and whispered something to Charlie, then scurried behind the bar and came back with four beers. “I’d like to make a toast.” She passed them out, and then held up a bottle. “Here’s to River, who is living proof that you really can wake the dead!”
In honor of my awakening, Charlie gave us the official green light to drink a few. I think his theory was if we drank in front of him, we wouldn’t do it behind his back—like Billi Jo, who drank in front of him but smoked pot behind his back, or at least thought she did.
Huddled over the bar, my friends and I talked and laughed almost like old times until Charlie started collecting our beer bottles. “Come on, girls, you’ve had enough.” He looked at me. “You need to keep your head clear if you’re going to keep your plan on track.”
“But I’m just starting to feel alive again.” I pouted.
“Well, you won’t if you keep this up.” He snatched the beer bottle out of my hand.
“Alright, alright,” I grumbled and scooted off the stool. We filed away from the bar and headed down to the basement.
After everyone else turned in, I fidgeted in my room, too nervous to sleep. My exit plan made me tense when I thought about all that could go wrong, but I felt some relief in knowing I had a plan.
The edge of a bag lying on the floor caught my attention, and I bent to pick it up. It was the frame Charlie had given me weeks ago. I had never bothered to replace the cracked one. I sat down on the cot and picked up the picture of my mom, Jamie, and me. Standing beside my mother, I marveled again at how much I looked like her—on a really good day.
When I turned the frame over and removed the back, something tucked behind it fell to the floor. Reaching down to pick up the black and white, wallet-sized portrait, I was surprised to find I didn’t recognize the man in the picture. Something about him looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him. I turned it over on the back and froze when I read the words:
Eve,
I have had the best year of my life with you. You will be graduating soon, and I look forward to our future together. I love you with all my heart.
Forever, C.M.
My mind raced trying to make sense of the hidden picture and the words written on the back. Mom was a senior when they were written, which meant she was seventeen or eighteen. She could’ve been pregnant with me when she married Jack. Could this be the creep who abandoned my mother when she was pregnant? I couldn’t shake the feeling deep in my gut that I was staring at a picture of my father.
With trembling hands, I replaced the frame and put the picture back where it was—I would keep this discovery to myself. My friends didn’t need any more drama, and I didn’t exactly have time to solve any more mysteries.
Kat, Billi Jo, and I slept later than usual due to our late night and a slight hangover situation. Rolling out of bed, we followed the aroma of food upstairs to the kitchen.
Charlie scooped scrambled eggs into a large bowl. “How you girls feelin’ this morning?”
“Ughh,” we groaned in unison.
“That oughta teach ya.” Charlie nodded toward the counter. “Help me get this stuff out to the table.” We grabbed the utensils, drinks, and cups and carried them out to one of the booths. After we slid behind the table, Charlie pulled a chair up to the end.
“You’re awesome, Charlie,” I said as I passed the plate of sausage and biscuits.
Charlie nodded as he plucked one off the plate and took a bite. Mid-chew he stopped.
Billi Jo glared at the bitten sausage and biscuit in her own hand before she let it fall back down on her paper plate. “Betty-freakin’-Crocker strikes again.”
Kat waved her hand. “It’s veggie sausage, not cyanide.”
Charlie examined the decoy patty. “Didn’t know they made such a thing.”
“Just looking out for your best interests.” Kat smiled and took a big bite of her sandwich.
After Charlie sanitized his mouth with a good swish of Maker’s, he turned his attention to me, his face serious. “So, are you and Kat ready for your drive back?”
“Yep, we have our map, money, and packing our clothes should take all of about two minutes.” It sounded like we were discussing going away on a simple weekend trip. But my insides were in knots because I knew this trip would be anything but simple. And I had no idea if it was a trip I’d make it back from.
Charlie tapped his fork on his plate absentmindedly. “I haven’t been able to get hold of my friend from Texas yet, but I hope to before you leave. Even if I don’t, I have a feeling things are gonna turn out okay.”
Maybe things would turn out okay. Maybe after this mess got all cleared up, I could come back to Vegas and live with Charlie. Maybe Jamie could come, too, and we could both finish out high school here.
I was so lost in hopes for my future, I barely noticed Charlie get up to answer the phone. When I realized he’d been gone awhile, I glanced toward the bar and froze when I saw the intense look in his eyes.
Charlie hung up the phone, and with each hobbling step he took back to our table, my heart rate increased. “There’s been a change of plans. The law is on their way.” He wiped his forehead. “The Texas law.”
The Texas law meant the Westfields. Texas law meant revenge. Texas law meant prison. I fought to control the panic edging its way up my throat. “Are you sure it’s the Texas law?”
Charlie nodded. “That’s the only thing I know for sure. I don’t know how they slipped under the radar. I’ve got people watching the Westfields’ P.I.s, the Mason County police department, and the state police.”
Billi Jo’s fork clinked against her plate when she dropped it. “Hell’s bells, Charlie. You retired CIA or some thin’?”
Charlie cocked an eyebrow. “Or some thin’.”
He had a crap-ton of connections all right, but right now, I didn’t care about their level of lawfulness—or unlawfulness.
“Listen up, girls,” Charlie placed his knuckles against the table and leaned into it, “I don’t know who’s behind it or how many, I just know you need to get out now. They know you’re in Vegas. They know you’re all in Vegas. The three of you have to leave for the airport right away.”
“The airport?” we said at the same time.
“I just booked ya’ll a flight leaving in one hour.” He looked at his watch. “Get your things as fast as you can. My friend Rex will be here shortly to pick you up and take you to the airport.”
“How will our ID’s get us through airport security?” I asked, my heart racing.
“I have a couple connections at the airport; people who owe me big favors.” He pointed toward the basement. “It’ll be taken care of. Trust me.”
We flew down the stairs, threw our belongings into our bags, and began to gather any other evidence that indicated we’d been there. Kat came out of the bathroom wearing a Bohemian-style sundress. “We need to amp up the disguises; River, your hair color on your ID is red, and since your temporary color has mostly washed out you need to make sure you put it all up,” she said as she straightened her blonde wig. “Billi Jo, where’s your
hat collection?”
Billi Jo shuffled through her hats, then tossed me a plain black one. I couldn’t find a ponytail holder, so I twirled my hair into a clump on top of my head, adjusted the hat strap, and tugged the hat on. Putting on make-up was the next best thing I could do to alter my appearance, so I scooted next to Kat in the bathroom mirror.
She glanced over at me. “If you skip the make-up, you could pass for a boy.” The corners of her lips turned up slightly as she painted on her deep red lipstick.
“And you could pass for a Bohemian hooker.” I smirked. Unless Kat put a feed sack over her entire head and body, she would stand out no matter what.
After one last check of the basement, I took a deep breath. “Alright, let’s roll.” We raced up the stairs and met Charlie in the bar.
“Good,” Charlie said, inspecting us. “I don’t really think you’ll have anything to worry about. The airport is the last damn place they’d look for you girls.” He handed me a small manila envelope. “Everything you need is in here. You’ll pick up your tickets when you get to the gate; look for a ticket agent with white hair and a mustache.”
“We’ll call you when we get there.” Billi Jo tugged on the bill of her straw cowboy hat.
“No.” His face grew solemn. “We won’t have any contact after this. If you get caught and they connect you to me, I can promise you’ll get more time.” He fumbled for the cigarette pack in his shirt pocket. “You girls need to get goin’.”
Billi Jo hugged him tight. “We don’t want to leave you.”
“I’ll be fine, you girls just take care of business. And you,” he said, directing his head at Billi Jo and her plastic togo cup, “behave yourself.”
“I will if you will,” Billi Jo said, eying the empty rocks glass on the bar before she slung her arms around him again.
Avoiding eye contact, Kat inched closer to Charlie. Fidgeting with an earring, she finally stepped in for a group hug. They nodded to each other but didn’t say a word.
The knot in my throat throbbed, and when it was my turn to give him a good-bye hug, I surprised myself by clinging to him. I knew what I was about to do was either going to set me free or land me in jail for a very long time, and this might be the last time I saw him. “Charlie…how could I ever thank you enough?”
In the thick, raspy tone I’d come to love, he said, “Make it count. You only get one chance at this life.”
Rex came rushing in to get us, and we were ready to follow him out the door when Charlie gave his final order. “I expect to see you girls back here after everything gets worked out.” He shook his cigarette at us like it was his finger. His eyes welled up when he said just to me, “Make it count.”
Before I walked out the door, I gave him the thumbs up.
Forcing myself to stay calm and further convince my friends I had a good plan in place, I asked Rex, “Charlie mentioned you were on your way out of town, too. Can I ask where you’re headed?”
“Oregon.”
“Driving or flying?”
“Driving.”
Perfect. I couldn’t help but smile at my clever idea as I reached in my bag for the three postcards addressed to Jamie. “Would you mind dropping these in mailboxes in three different cities on your way north?”
Rex held out his hand to take them. “No problem,” he said and picked up his buzzing cell phone.
Opening the manila envelope Charlie sent with us, I inspected the contents. Flight information, cash, and a note with an emergency phone number.
“Sure thing, Charlie,” Rex said, then hung up his cell as he pulled into the airport parking lot. He scribbled on a piece of paper while he spoke. “Charlie’s arranged for a car to be waiting for you when you land in Dallas. He doesn’t know the make and model yet but he said there’ll be a pair of fuzzy dice hanging on the rearview, and this is the approximate location of where you’ll find it.”
After I took the piece of paper, we straightened our wigs and hats and stepped out of the car. I guess he could tell by the way we hesitated that we needed a little more encouragement, so he made an attempt. “Don’t worry, Charlie’s covered everything from here until you get to Texas.”
Translation: we’re on our own once we set foot in the Lone Star State.
“Thanks,” I choke-whispered.
On the way in, the hat strap on my ball cap came un-velcroed and I had to fight a hunk of my hair back under it. But as soon as I entered the doors of the airport, it popped off, exposing my Medusa-like waves. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself or waste time, so I gave up and stuffed the hat in the side pocket of my bag and kept moving.
Brazenly, we stepped up to the check-in counter and showed our I.D.s to the white-haired man Charlie described. My heart ticked in slow motion as he studied my photo, then glanced back up at me, recognition in his eyes. He nodded once, checked Billi Jo and Kat’s I.D.s for show, then handed us our tickets. I’m sure to him and to everyone else we looked like average college kids on our way back home from a wild Vegas trip. If only it were that simple.
We floated easily through the airport, shoulder to shoulder with our heads held high. We were soldiers on the front line—defiant, confident, and ready to take on whatever waited on the other side. Charlie and Rex had to be right. No one would be looking for us at the airport. It made perfect sense. They would never expect us to have money for plane tickets, much less an I.D. No one would be expecting us to be that bold, either—but we were.
As we made our way down the endless walkway toward signs to terminal 28, the sight of two security guards walking in our direction snapped us back into reality. The energy between us shifted, and with an unspoken agreement, Billi Jo split off and ducked into a shop. Kat walked a few more yards into a bookstore, and I continued to walk straight ahead, almost daring them to notice me. I told myself that if I got caught, at least my friends would be long gone by the time the police could confirm my identity. At least they would be free to live their lives.
My breathing accelerated as the security guards moved closer. I could feel the younger man looking at me longer than he should’ve, but he kept walking. As they were passing, I was mid-exhale when I heard, “Wait.” My stomach lurched as one of them walked up behind me. “You dropped something,” he said and handed me my hat. It must’ve slipped out of my bag.
My mouth struggled to form a grateful smile when I heard the announcement: “First class is now boarding for Flight 207.” That was our flight; I had to get to the terminal. “Thank you,” I finally managed and pushed myself toward terminal 28.
With sweaty palms, I clutched my duffle bag as if it were a life raft. Eerie yellowish lights illuminated the never-ending hallway like a scene from a bad horror film. I was so close.
“Freeze!” bellowed a deep male voice.
My life slammed to a grinding stop. I dropped my duffle bag and inched my hands upward. Feeling as if I were moving through wet cement, I turned to face the barrel of a handgun.
“It’s over,” confirmed the officer.
My eyes flickered from the gun, paused on the badge of his navy uniform, then moved to the face full of fury. When I finally met his intense glare, I watched in confusion as his eyes went wide, then softened, and all color drained from his face. A faint whisper escaped his lips as he lowered his gun.
“Eve?”
My heartbeat thundered in my ears. I could barely choke out the words, “That’s…my mother’s name.”
Studying him for what must have only been seconds, my brain tried to remember why I recognized him. It was something about his eyes. Where had I seen him before?
Scanning his gold badge searching for answers, my vision blurred in and out on the words Taylor Police. Taylor, Taylor Texas… Mom was from Taylor. My eyes darted to his nameplate, Carl Makade, confirming I had no idea who this man was or why he was looking at me with an expression I couldn’t comprehend.
My insides quivered when he stepped into me, slow and methodical, moving his
free hand toward me—toward my throat. Was he going to choke me right here in the middle of the airport? Abruptly, he stopped when something over my shoulder caught his attention—something behind me. Whatever it was made him grab my arm instead. The intensity of his touch frightened me, but I didn’t flinch. “Go,” he ordered.
I nodded my head once to let him know I heard him but my legs didn’t respond. Glancing over my shoulder, I shuddered at the haze of three or four blue uniforms running toward us.
“Go, and don’t ever come back.” Almost hesitantly, he released my arm and pushed me away from him—like he knew I needed it in order to move.
My body finally caught up with my brain and I headed for the terminal, the slap of footsteps on tile echoing behind me. “I made a mistake,” the officer’s imposing voice announced, this time sounding like an angel of mercy. A rumble followed along with sighs of disappointment, but the footsteps went silent.
My head whirled with questions. Why did he let me go? How did he know my mother? Why did he look familiar?
Chills flooded over my entire body as the answer struck me. I had seen those eyes before…
In the mirror.
Too dazed to look suspicious, I boarded the plane with no problems. Skimming the seats for Kat and Billi Jo, I barely took a breath until I spotted them. When I finally reached the back of the plane, I sank into my seat like a thousand-pound weight. We made it. My God, we made it.
My body was limp, wilted like a dying flower, but my mind raced trying to recall every detail of my encounter with the officer—every piece of evidence that pointed to the truth. The dark outlines around his pale blue irises—Siberian Husky blue. His badge claimed he was the chief of police in Taylor—a small town only an hour away from Dahlia. His name plate read Carl MaKade.
I rubbed at my temples until I remembered where I’d seen the name—the newspaper clipping I’d found in my mother’s things. An officer was killed, leaving behind a pregnant wife; the other victim was a college student, critically injured—Carl Makade. The initials on the picture I’d discovered behind the cracked frame were C.M.
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