See No More

by W B Dineen

  Which leaves me wondering, why are we stupid enough to go back from whence we came?

  CHAPTER 21

  I ask, “We’re going back to Albany?”

  “No. We’re going to stop at a Walmart, and pick up a few things, then head to the airport in Eugene.”

  My brain isn’t firing full throttle. We’re twenty miles outside of Roseburg before I remember my dad. “Jake, what about Theo? If he was able to put the note in Buddy’s collar, then he was right outside the cabin. Do you think he got away?”

  Jake grunts, “I’m sure. Your dad has learned how to turn himself into mist in the last twenty-five years. He’s gotten out of scrapes you and I could never imagine.”

  “I can’t believe I was so close to him after all this time and didn’t get to see him. It kind of knocks the wind out of me.”

  “Don’t worry. If Theo’s shadowing us, and he must have been to know we were at the Roseburg safe house, then he’s planning on following us to Pasadena.”

  My dad coming to Pasadena brings up a slew of new concerns, and most of them center around my mom. I have no idea how Bethanie would handle finding out the truth about him. I mean, he devastated her. Now, at least I understand why, but my god, there’s no telling how she’d react.

  I suggest, “You should call Nikolay.”

  Jake doesn’t reply, he just picks up his phone and punches in the number. When the older man doesn’t answer, he leaves a message. “Niko, my man, I’m calling to let you know I’m safe and should be in Sacramento by dinner time. I’ll be in touch when I get there.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him the truth?”

  “Look, Kate, we’re only alive because of your dad. Niko is seventy-two years old and doesn’t have the reflexes he used to. If whoever is after us goes after him, they’re not going to have a hard time picking him up. The less he knows, the better for all of us.”

  What a depressing thought. I know the Russian and my father go way back, so I’m sad to think of him getting caught. I beg Jake to let me call Jen and tell her I’m okay, but he doesn’t go for it. “Kate, you’re not safe. In fact, you’re currently as unsafe as you’ve ever been in your entire life. Now is not the time to broadcast signals so others know where to find you.”

  I look confused, so he adds, “I’m one hundred percent sure your house and your sister are being watched, or at the very least being listened to. Do not put Jen in danger.”

  I take a deep breath. “I know what it’s like to have someone go missing and not know why or even if they’re okay. I don’t want to put her through that.”

  Jake shakes his head. “Kate, you don’t get it. The only reason you’re alive today is because your dad put you through that. He had to make a choice to either leave and break your heart, so you could have a life, or take you with him and get you killed. Give Jen the same gift.”

  Jake takes exit 194 A off the 5 and turns onto Gateway Street. A couple of minutes later he pulls into Walmart. As soon as he parks, he rolls down the window a crack for Buddy, who’s spent the last fifteen minutes sound asleep. Then he instructs, “Pull out the driver’s license I gave you.” He waits while I do so, before inquiring, “Why don’t you look like the woman in that photo?”

  It seems rather obvious. “First of all, she’s a brunette with the most atrocious hair cut I’ve ever seen. Second, she has that huge mole on her cheek, and third she seems to have some kind of burn scar on her neck.”

  Jake smiles. “Good. So, what’s on your shopping list when you get inside?”

  “No!” I gasp.

  He nods his head. “Hair can be regrown and re-dyed. Now, what’s on your shopping list?”

  I exhale loudly. “Hair color, scissors, a brown eyebrow pencil, and apparently some acid to administer a chemical burn.”

  “Smart-ass,” he replies. “Yes, you need hair color, scissors, and a brown eyebrow pencil. Get some Silly Putty and eyelash adhesive for the mole and pick a clear gel-like face mask for the burn.”

  “Do we have enough money for me to get some clothes and shoes?”

  He nods. “We have plenty of money. The problem is you don’t want to spend so much that you draw attention to yourself. Try to keep your purchases under two hundred dollars. We’re going to walk in separately, so we’re not seen together on any store cameras. Your first stop is to grab a baseball hat and put it on to cover your hair. Next get a duffel bag to put your things in for the flight. Then get your clothes. Do not try anything on. Do you understand?”

  I snap testily, “Is that so we can make sure I look as bad as humanly possible?”

  “Exactly, Kate. My big concern here is to make sure you look bad.” Then he points his finger at me and growls, “If you try things on, the dressing room camera is going to pick you up. We’re two strangers shopping quickly, efficiently, and hopefully, unnoticed. That is the plan.”

  “Fine, let’s go,” I grumble.

  “You get out first. I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

  Apparently, life threatening situations make me grumpy. Also, I don’t like bossy Jake and I’m not particularly attracted to bossy Jake. So, as long as he acts this way there is zero danger I’m going to jump his bones.

  I have all my shopping done in a record twenty-three minutes and that includes stopping off in the pet aisle to get stuff for Buddy. I bet the dictator forgot all about that. As soon as I’m through checkout, I walk outside. Drat, Jake is sitting on a bench waiting for me.

  When he spots me, he jumps up and almost sprints to the car. I guess we’re still trying not to be seen together. I get in about thirty seconds after him. In a fit of sarcasm, I ask, “Was I supposed to cut and color my hair while I was in there?”

  “I made a reservation for us at the Holiday Inn Express. Hopefully, we can change and get packed there without watchful eyes on us.”

  “Hopefully?”

  He nods his head. “The people who blew up the safe house are professionals. I’m currently crossing my fingers they aren’t still hot on our trail.”

  CHAPTER 22

  We check into the hotel and are assigned a room on the second floor. I want to fall into bed and sleep for ten days. It turns out the adrenaline rush of fleeing from an exploding building and unknown gunmen is pretty intense. In fact, it sucks the energy right out of you.

  Jake unpacks his purchases. “Go ahead and color your hair. I’ll cut it once you’re done.”

  I’ve never considered myself an overly vain person, especially by LA standards, but I’ve never been faced with purposely downplaying my looks, either. Truth be told, I don’t want to look different. I don’t want an inch-long black mole on my face and a burn scar on my neck.

  Once I take my coat off and grab my toiletries, I go into the bathroom and pull out a box of medium-brown hair color. The woman on the cover wears it well, so I’m clinging to hope I won’t be too hideous. I apply the gel-like substance from roots to ends and refuse to look in the mirror as it does its job.

  While it’s brewing, I pull out some dog food for Buddy, but see that Jake’s already seen to him. I also bought some doggy shampoo and a brush, so I can make him beautiful for our trip. “How are we going to get Buddy on the plane without a crate?”

  Jake answers, “He won’t need one. He’s flying in the cabin with us.”

  My brow furrows. “How? He’s huge!”

  Jake pulls out a red dog vest and harness from his bag. He proceeds to glue a white sewing patch on it. Then he takes out a black sharpie and carefully prints “Service Dog.” I demand, “Service Dog? Whose service dog?”

  He smiles. “Yours. I told the airlines you have some emotional issues because of the fire you were in.”

  I don’t say it’s a brilliant idea, but it is. I choose not to compliment him, but I do contemplate kicking him. “Why me? Why can’t he be your therapy dog?”

  “Because I’m going to look relatively normal compared to you.”

  I snarl, “Should I pretend to have a limp
and a hunchback, too?” Before he answers, I turn away and continue to organize my purchases.

  My excitement and nervousness about seeing my dad are building. I’ve gone from thinking he abandoned me, to learning he was dead, to hoping to be reunited with him. It’s emotional whiplash, I tell you.

  After I wash the color out of my hair, I’m not horrified by the result. I comb it out and pose in the mirror for a minute.

  Then Jake walks in. He’s combed some product through his hair that darkens it a bit, but it also makes him look really good, the bastard. He nods his head when he sees my hair. “Nice, in fact, it’s too nice.” He gestures with his scissors. “Come here.” Approximately six minutes later I look like a victim of a drunken Edward Scissorhands.

  Once my hair is trashed, Jake applies the face mask to my neck to shrivel up the skin. He dabs spirit gum around the edges, so it doesn’t peel, and then goes to work applying my Silly Putty mole. The result is perfectly hideous, and I tell him as much.

  Jake gives Buddy a quick bath while I try to figure out which of my fabulous new outfits to wear. I vacillate between the black and orange sweat suit and a pair of leggings and t-shirt. I ultimately choose the sweat suit, figuring the idea is to look the least like myself as possible. I didn’t notice the writing on it when I purchased it, but I now realize I have the word “Beavers” written across my butt. Nice.

  After we’re all packed and ready to go, Jake hands me a large marble. “Put it in the arch of your shoe.”

  “What?” I demand. “Why?”

  “It’s going to make you walk differently than normal and will lessen the chance you’ll be spotted.”

  “Jake, I have a big black mole on my chin and brown hair. I’m pretty sure I won’t be recognized.”

  “You’d think,” he replies. “But whoever we’re dealing with is going to be trained to look beyond hair color and easily applied blemishes. Also,” he adds, “Buddy’s service vest doesn’t look that professional and the more you appear to need a service dog, the less chance that’ll be noticed.”

  We don’t draw attention to ourselves by checking out of the hotel. Instead we leave the key cards on the desk in our room and walk out. We pick up fast food on the way to the airport and park the car in short-term parking. Jake hands the keys off to airport security, claiming he found them in the parking lot, and finally we’re on our way to the gate.

  The marble in my shoe makes me walk like one leg is shorter than the other. My overall look is Quasimodo’s marginally better-looking twin sister. I look nothing like myself and the only glances I receive are pitiful ones.

  Jake’s carriage changes as well. He slumps his shoulders and lets his head fall forward so his chin is pointing down. These small alterations have turned him from a good-looking guy into a total wannabe. It’s astonishing.

  No one at the gate questions Buddy’s role as my canine savior, so as soon as we check in, we find a seat and anxiously wait for boarding to be called.

  CHAPTER 23

  We’re flying into Burbank instead of LAX. When I ask Jake why, he explains that it’s closer to Pasadena. I know this as I grew up in Pasadena. My point is that my car is sitting at LAX and it would be handy for us to have a vehicle at our disposal.

  Jake looks at me like I’ve got one foot on the short bus and the other about to join it. “Your car isn’t safe. Everything about your life is off limits until we figure out who’s after us and how to get rid of them.” I don’t allow myself to contemplate what he means by “get rid of them.”

  Hearing it put so bluntly though, stops me short. “That could take years.”

  He nods. “Your father has been running for twenty–five years. The good news is this is the closest they’ve ever gotten to him, which means it’s the closest we’ve ever gotten to finding out who they are.”

  “Jake, how did you get involved in my dad’s drama? I mean, I know your dad taught Theo in high school, but you probably weren’t even born then. Where do you fit in?”

  “I have every intention of telling you. I just think Theo should be there when I do.”

  I spend the two-hour flight practicing yoga breathing to calm myself. In the last three days, I’ve experienced excitement on a level I’d never dreamed possible, and sure as hell hope to never repeat.

  We sit quietly and I absently pet Buddy, who’s lying on my feet. When we land in Burbank, we head to the car rental kiosks. We didn’t book a car ahead of time, so as not to draw attention to ourselves. Apparently, whoever’s after us has enough know-how to hack into the airline and car rental computers. Jake didn’t want to give them anything more to cross reference.

  ***

  If I had to choose between sitting in LA traffic or having my nose hairs pulled out one at a time, I’d have to think long and hard about which way I’d go. It’s 6:00 p.m. before we get on the 134 toward Pasadena. The carpool lane helps immensely, but it still takes us forty-five minutes instead of the twenty it would have with no traffic.

  I’m driving because Jake claims to hate LA traffic. Don’t we all. Coming from Oregon, where the freeway is only three lanes wide (and that’s only close to their bigger cities), six and seven lanes must seem like a nightmare. But after seeing him in action, I know he can handle anything.

  Jake’s fooling around on his phone when I ask, “Aren’t you afraid your phone is being tracked?”

  He’s shrugs. “Anything is possible, but I take precautions.”

  “Such as?”

  “This one was bought by a sixty-four-year-old man named Joseph Ketchum in Philadelphia. My bill is paid by a woman in Detroit named Galadriel Oakley. I change out my SIM card every week and switch phones entirely every two months.” He continues, “It’s also encrypted.”

  I exclaim, “That must cost a fortune!”

  “The cost is irrelevant.” He adds, “This one’s also pretty new. I got it a few days before you came to Oregon, so I’m fairly confident it’ll be okay for a bit longer.” He stops to think for a minute. “Although, maybe we better pick up a couple disposables for local calls.”

  I let out a bionic sigh. Last week my biggest concern was which draperies I was going to buy. Now, I’m running for my life with a face my own mother wouldn’t recognize. Doris Day would have never taken a part in this movie.

  Jake shares, “Your dad and I had dozens of scenarios worked out in case we had to bug out of Albany. We set up multiple locations and backup locations all over the country.” He takes a deep breath before continuing, “But when it came to Pasadena, he wouldn’t tell me where to meet him. His worry was protecting his family.” He notices my alarmed look, and clarifies, “If I was ever caught and tortured he wanted to make sure the Pasadena location was the ultimate safe zone.”

  “How are we going to find him, then?” I demand.

  “He always said you’d know where to go. If the worst happened, I was to find you and you’d take me to him.”

  “But I have no idea where that is! I haven’t even seen my dad in twenty-five years.”

  We sit silently for a few moments, while I transition onto the 210 into Pasadena. “What hotel are we going to?”

  “No hotel. Take us to a drive-through so we can pick up dinner, then pull over and we’ll eat.”

  I exit Lake Avenue and stay on it until we hit Walnut. A few miles later I pull into a very crowded In-n-Out Burger. “Jake, where are we going to stay?”

  “We have a safe house here, but after Roseburg I’m not sure if our other safe houses have been compromised. I went onto Airbnb and rented us an apartment for the week.”

  I order three double-doubles, animal style—Buddy needs his own—and two chocolate shakes, then I pull over and park on Foothill, so we can eat.

  We don’t engage in small talk. I don’t know what Jake is thinking, but I’m trying to absorb the fact that I’m in my home town and I can’t go home. Then, I immediately move on to wondering where in the heck Theo is going to meet us and why he thinks I’d know whe
re that location is. I was eight the last time I saw him. My memories are dicey at best.

  After we finish our dinner, Jake gives me the address to our temporary residence. It turns out it’s right across the street from Caltech on Del Mar Boulevard. It’s almost directly across campus from the house I grew up in, the same one my mom and Chuck still live in.

  Jake instructs me to pull around and park under the building in slot fourteen. Before checking in with the building manager and picking up our keys, we take Buddy across the street to Grant Park to run off some of his pent-up energy.

  This was one of the few parks I frequented as a child. My mom and I would walk over and grab sandwiches at this little hole in the wall called Eddie’s, and then meet my dad. I’d run all over the place playing while they sat at a picnic table and talked.

  Jake takes Buddy off his leash and throws a tennis ball for him. I sit on a swing and let the memories of my childhood envelop me: my dad carrying me on his shoulders, riding bikes together around our little neighborhood, lying in the hammock in our backyard, reading the Chronicles of Narnia. Recollections fill my head at lightning speed. Now, to figure out which one will lead us to Theo.

  CHAPTER 24

  The condominium complex where we’re staying is three-stories tall and has a courtyard where all the entrances to the units are located. The elevators are in the center and let you off onto walkways that lead to the individual apartments. We’re in number 314. It’s a pretty large two-bedroom, two-bath, with the standard kitchen/dining/living rooms all in a row.

  Jake informs me we’re not sleeping in the bedrooms because they both have multiple windows. Instead, we move the dining room table and pull one of the mattresses in here. I mention, “This arrangement does not make me feel very safe.”

  Quirking his eyebrow, he exclaims, “We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like I have any intention of molesting you.”