I run my fingers through my hair. I think about Steve’s offer. The one to marry me. For a brief second, I consider it. It would be easy, too, to do it. Not just so he couldn’t testify, but because then I would have a legitimate identity. I could get all of those things I need. But then I would have to leave him behind, breaking his heart in a way that would be even worse than when Dotty died.
No, I cannot do that to him.
I need Tracker. He is my connection to the outside world. Even though I know Steve will do anything for me, Tracker is still the only one I can turn to.
I feel as though I am too slow on the uptake. It’s not only my computer skills that are rusty, all of me is rusty. I thought I’d planned for this day, but it’s been so long that I forgot my plan included a fifteen-year-old driver’s license and passport. The more settled I got here the more complacent I became. I should have always been at the ready for survival off the island.
I can only hope that I have enough time.
TWENTY-SIX
I am so aware that I need to leave here before the sun comes up that I only manage a couple of hours of sleep. My head is spinning with what I need to do.
I need to get in touch with Tracker. I need a new driver’s license, a credit card, a passport. And I need that password.
I have my laptop, but there is no Wi-Fi here. I have to go back to the spa. I am not sure how I’m going to get in without Jeanine. I am sure that Frank Cooper is watching her as well, but maybe not right now. He knows I can’t leave the island in the middle of the night, so it doesn’t really matter where I am until morning.
I creep out to the counter and dial the familiar number.
‘W-who is it?’ I have awoken Jeanine from a deep sleep.
‘Jeanine,’ I whisper loudly. ‘It’s Nicole. Wake up.’
‘Nicole?’ She is still half asleep.
‘Yes, it’s Nicole. I need you.’
‘Nicole?’ Her voice is more alert now.
‘Yes. I need your help.’
‘What do you need? You know, Frank Cooper is looking for you.’
‘I know. Can you meet me at the spa?’
‘Now?’
It is four a.m.
‘Yes. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.’
‘It has to do with that laptop, right?’
‘That’s right. I just need to see what’s going on with it, and then I’ll leave you alone.’
‘Right now?’
‘Please, Jeanine.’
‘OK, OK. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’ I hear the irritation in her voice, but I know she will come.
It will take her about ten minutes once she gets in the car. I am just a couple of blocks away, but I don’t have the patience to wait here. I pick up my backpack and go out the back door into the night.
There is no sound except the shuffle of my feet on the pavement.
I cut through the little alley that runs between the spa and a house that has a string of brightly colored buoys hanging on the small white picket fence. Jeanine has always wanted to buy this house, to live in it herself, rather than on the other side of the island.
I touch the fence, just for an instant, as though the buoys can give me some sort of strength. I then turn toward the back door of the spa, the one that will lead into that little room where the laptop sits.
I tense when I hear the footsteps approach. It’s too early for Jeanine. I brace myself.
Ian steps out from the other side of the building. ‘I need your help, Tina.’
My heart starts to pound, but I ignore it, glaring at him. ‘What are you doing here?’ My whisper is louder than it should be, and it carries on the still air.
‘Shush,’ he says, putting a finger to his lips. He isn’t as put together as he usually is; his hair is tousled and his clothes are dirty. He looks as though he has slept on the beach. He probably has. He does not have keys to a bike shop or friends who can let him into spas.
‘Where have you been?’ I hiss.
He shakes his head. ‘I wish you hadn’t talk to the cops. You could’ve just cleaned that shit up at your house and kept your mouth shut.’
I feel the same way, but I don’t want him to know that. ‘It was the right thing to do, Ian.’
He sneers at me. ‘And you’re all about doing the right thing, aren’t you, Nicole?’ He spits out my name.
I ignore him. ‘So did you shoot Carmine, Ian? With the gun you let Veronica see?’ It is a stab in the dark, but I see in his expression that I am right in my suspicion that he is not innocent in this.
‘It was either him or me. I didn’t want it to be me.’
‘Whose idea was it to steal from Tony, Ian? Was it my father’s or was it yours?’ It is the first time I have confronted him about this.
‘He told me Tony couldn’t say anything because his money was dirty,’ Ian said. He snorts. ‘Guess he didn’t figure the Feds would be all over his shit because stealing from a bunch of rich assholes was worse than stealing from a scumbag mobster.’
‘Was the whole job just a cover-up for stealing from Tony?’
‘It wasn’t that personal. Except maybe—’ He stops.
‘Maybe what?’
‘He wanted to see what you could do. It was personal like that.’
My father wanted to see if it was in my genes. The stealing. I didn’t disappoint him.
‘You gave me the list of account numbers,’ I say. ‘You knew exactly who we were stealing from. Where did you get those numbers anyway?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘I think it does.’
‘I think if it did, then you would’ve asked me back then, isn’t that right? It doesn’t really matter now. That’s not our problem.’
He is right on one hand, but on the other, I do think it’s our problem. But I can also tell from the tightness of his jaw and tone of voice that I am not going to get it out of him. Not right now, anyway.
‘Tony’s looking for both of us now,’ Ian is saying. ‘Carmine’s dead, but he’ll send someone else. He wants his money. Just tell me where it is, and I’ll get it to him and we’ll leave you alone.’
‘I don’t have it. I told you.’ I pause. ‘Why does it matter anymore, anyway? I mean, Tony’s got money. However much we stole from him fifteen years ago, well, it’s probably just a drop in the bucket, right?’
He shakes his head. ‘It’s the principle, Tina. He got shown up. And then your father ripped him off. He got your father back, but now he wants you, too.’
I sigh. ‘I still don’t see—’
His eyes get darker with his anger. ‘You may think that this is some sort of game, Tina, but it’s for real. I’m asking real nice. I know you’ve been online, I know you’ve probably hidden it, but you have to tell me where it is, for both our sakes.’ I see now that his anger is laced with fear.
‘I know this isn’t a game. I have been online, that’s true, but I haven’t done anything with any money, because there isn’t any. Not anymore. I told you that. I’ve been trying to figure out what’s been going on while I’ve been here.’ I pause, then say, ‘I understand that you’re dead. That they found your body on the houseboat. You killed yourself.’
He gives a short snort. ‘I had to get away somehow. You can’t blame me, since you pulled your own disappearing act.’ He pauses. ‘You’ve been right here. All along. And no one has ever known?’
I think about Steve and Jeanine, worry about how it’s going to be for them when Frank Cooper finds out that they’ve been helping me. He will wonder if they have known all along, and it might be difficult for them to prove that they haven’t.
‘So what is the job you wanted me to do? It’s for Tony, isn’t it? So we can pay back what we owe him. But what I want to know is your connection with him now. I know the car you were driving is registered to him. Are you working for him?’
‘I didn’t think you were interested. Will you really help me?’ He is talking about the job, ignori
ng my question about Tony.
‘Maybe. Maybe I’d like to put it all behind me, too, and really get a fresh start somewhere.’ I don’t think Tony is going to go away all that easily, though, even if we pay him back.
I see the headlights of a car approaching. Jeanine. It has to be Jeanine.
‘You have to leave,’ I say. ‘Can we meet later? Say, in a couple of hours?’
He hesitates, curious, and then he says, ‘Where? You know this place.’
I say the first thing that comes to mind. ‘The Painted Rock.’
‘The what?’
‘It’s a rock. It’s painted. You can’t miss it.’ I begin to tell him where it is, when he touches my lips with his finger.
‘I’ll find it.’ His eyes search mine, and I see a familiar longing in them. He takes his finger away, leans over and brushes his lips against mine, and to my dismay, I feel the familiar stirring. I am disgusted with myself. I pull away, but he is already gone.
I am standing there when I hear the car door slam. I scurry around to the front.
Jeanine is wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and a North Face jacket with a scarf wrapped around her neck. Her hair is tousled, pulled high on her head with two chopsticks sticking out of it. She gives me a nod and lets us into the spa, closing the door behind us.
‘So what’s so urgent?’ she asks. ‘You look like hell.’
I smile despite myself. ‘So do you. I just need to check that laptop.’
She doesn’t say anything, and I smell the rosemary incense as we go down the hall. She lets me go first into the room where I find my laptop undisturbed. It isn’t off, but merely sleeping, and with one touch it springs to life, my search complete.
With just a few keystrokes, I find Amelie Renaud. I have to use her, at least at first. I rummage around a small desk in the corner and come up with a scrap of paper and a pencil. I scribble Amelie’s information: her Social Security number, her current address, and, most important, her credit card information, including the security code on the back of the card. I know I can’t get an airline ticket; the security at airports is too strong these days. I’ve heard enough grumbling among my friends who’ve flown to know that my expired driver’s license will be caught immediately. But trains? No one checks identification on a train.
I will have to get to Boston. Providence is closer, but more risky. I will buy a couple of train tickets – one to New York, one to Washington. There is only one train line that runs between Boston and Washington, and I can get off anywhere in between if things look dicey. I’m not sure how quickly Amelie will discover someone has used her credit card, but if she’s like everyone else, she’ll report it immediately and the card will be deactivated. The train ticket, though, will already be in my hand.
I might only have the chance to use the credit card number once. But I don’t know that I really need to use it more than that. Tracker has connections in New York, connections that can get me a whole new identity.
I glance at the clock on the laptop. I don’t have much time if I’m going to meet Ian. I haven’t really decided whether I will, though, and I’m too distracted by thoughts of how I can survive at the moment.
I go to the chat room and don’t see Tracker there. I leave him a message: I need you. Meet me here at seven o’clock.
But I’m not sure I can wait that long, so I go to the other room and find Angel, the hacker who led me back to him. I ask that we meet in a private chat room.
I thought you had everything you needed, Angel writes when he comes into the room.
Can you tell Tracker to meet me where we were before? I type.
He’s not available.
What do you mean?
He’s on a job for someone else right now. I can help you.
I don’t like the sound of this. I am rusty, but not that rusty. Thanks anyway, I say and log out quickly, just in case someone else is watching. The plan that has been circulating in my head dissipates as I wonder what’s going on.
I may still be able to find Tracker’s connection in Miami, the one who’d taken care of our documents the last time. But Miami is too far away. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to get there without some trouble. And even if I get there, I have no idea if the connection still exists.
It has been such a long time.
I sit back in my chair and take a few deep breaths. I will manage somehow. I will be able to escape. I have to.
I see the edges of the bills in my backpack. I think about Ian waiting for me, and suddenly my thoughts turn to Zeke.
I don’t like to think about Zeke, what happened that day, because it was all my fault.
After that first time Zeke came to the house to check up on my father, I didn’t give him another thought. But a couple of weeks later, he showed up again.
‘Miss Adler?’
Again, I was by the pool, and he startled me. I hadn’t heard him approach, the soles of his shoes moving across the tiles silently, stealthily. I shut the laptop cover and squinted up at him from the chaise lounge.
‘Zeke Chapman? FBI?’ He was disappointed I didn’t immediately recognize him.
I flashed him a smile. ‘Sorry, but you all march through here and I’m bad with names.’
He gave me a small smile and sat down on the edge of the chaise lounge next to mine. He cocked his head toward the laptop. ‘Working on something?’
‘Just playing around.’
He ran a hand through his hair and the sun again caught the glint of his gold wedding band.
‘Is your wife FBI, too?’
He laughed. ‘Oh, no. She’s a teacher. Elementary school.’
‘So she likes kids. You got kids?’
‘No.’ The answer was short, clipped, and I wondered how long they’d been trying.
‘I suppose you’re looking for my father.’
He leaned toward me and smiled. ‘No. I was looking for you.’ It was the intensity of his stare that unnerved me, that made me tingle all over, a feeling I’d only ever had before with Ian.
‘Why?’ I whispered.
‘Because you’re prettier than your father and seeing you doesn’t feel like work.’
‘So this really is work?’
Zeke sighed and sat back again. ‘I’m afraid so.’
‘You’re keeping an eye on me to find out if I know anything about my father’s business.’
‘Give the girl a gold star.’
‘I don’t know anything.’
‘I figured you’d say that.’ He spotted my drink on the glass top table next to me. ‘You got any more of that?’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘It’s Scotch. You drink on duty?’
He made a show of looking at his watch. ‘Oh, look at that, my shift is over.’ When he looked back up at me, his eyes were twinkling and his smile was infectious.
‘Sure.’ I swung my legs over the side of the lounge and went over to the bar, where I poured him a short one, then thought twice and added a little more. I brought it over to him.
He’d gotten up and was staring across the pool at the ocean beyond it. The water was a mix of turquoise and cobalt blue, the blue sky dipping into it and casting a bright shimmer across the horizon.
‘You live in paradise,’ he said.
I handed him the drink. ‘I suppose.’
‘Why, it’s not paradise?’
‘Sometimes a house can be a prison, you know what I mean?’
His Adam’s apple twitched; his lips pursed into a straight line. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a long swallow. When he was done, he turned to me and said, ‘Yeah. I know exactly what you mean.’
There was a longing in his eyes that caught me off guard. I didn’t mean to do it, or maybe I did, but I kissed him. For a second, I thought he was going to move away from me, but then his hands were in my hair, and his lips opened. They were softer than I’d imagined, and when I took him up to my room and we undressed each other, there was an intensity, a need in him that made me b
reathless. Ian had never needed me like that.
I didn’t realize he suspected me for three weeks.
TWENTY-SEVEN
The sun is coming up, and the streaks of pink and orange dance across the sky. I sent Jeanine home when I started my search for Amelie Renaud, but not before I asked her if I could borrow her bike, the one that doesn’t have any gears. I teased her when she bought it, how she wouldn’t be able to get up the hills on the island, and what was the point in a bike if you can’t even get around properly.
So when I asked to use it, she raised one eyebrow. ‘Really? I thought you have one of Pete’s mopeds.’
‘I took it back.’
She rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. ‘OK, fine. It’s out front in the bike rack. How long will you be?’
I knew she was trying to figure out where I was going. ‘I’ll be back in a couple hours. Maybe sooner. Don’t worry, I won’t run off with the bike.’
‘That’s not what I’m worried about,’ she said, a hint of sadness in her tone.
I pulled her into a hug, which was unexpected, since she is the hugger. I felt her arms go around me, and she held me tight for a few seconds.
‘I’ll be fine,’ I said when we pulled apart. But she still had that look in her eyes, the same one Steve has now, the one that thinks every time they see me will be the last time.
One of these times, it will be. But not now.
I shrug on my backpack and climb onto her bike. She left it unlocked for me.
Her bike is uncomfortable between my legs. The seat is too big, the handlebars too high. I keep reaching for the speeds, but then I realize they’re not there and I pump the pedals hard to keep my momentum up. I take Old Town Road and turn onto Center, which runs around the perimeter of the airport. I think about the BMW. Is it still there, or has Frank Cooper impounded it? Do they even have a place for abandoned cars on the island, or do they send them over to the mainland on the ferry? I am wondering about that as I approach the intersection with Cooneymus. Rodman’s Hollow is there, not too far. I could ditch the bike and hike the trail down to the beach. Hide for the day.
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