by Thomas Perry
"That sounds smart. That's exactly what I'm trying to get you to do now."
"I went to Boston. I only came home for the final decree, then went back. And then my father died. It was the last thing in the world I expected. He was always very fit and healthy, and he seemed so young that I always forgot his age. He had a massive heart attack and died, and then I realized I hadn't actually been seeing him. I'd been looking at him and seeing him as he'd been fifteen years younger. When he died, my mother was all alone."
"So you came home to be with her."
"Yes. She was alone, after being married for over forty years. He was the sort of person who just quietly took care of everything. She never seemed worried about anything, because he was this big, reassuring presence. Now she was lost. So I moved in. I don't know how he found out, but Steve knew immediately that I was living there. He showed up at the door a few days after the funeral and said he wanted me back."
"Did you fall for it"
"No. I told him there was nothing at all left between us, and that he should go away and never come within a mile of me again. He, of course, wanted to stay and argue about it."
"But you didn't give in"
"Not then, and not the next fifty times. He called at all hours, showed up when I went to work and stood in front of my car, sent presents I didn't want and apologies. He said he hadn't ever wanted to be mean to me, but I had forced him. Surely I understood that."
"Iris, honey. I've heard this story before. I don't blame you for any of it. But you need to think about tomorrow and the next day. We need to make a plan for how you're going to spend the next month or two."
"Please," Iris said. "I've got to tell you, so you'll understand."
"All right."
"I got a restraining order. He violated it about three times before the cops or the judge or someone persuaded him he couldn't prevent me from going to work or wake me up in the middle of the night. A few months after my father died, my mother got sick. It was a heart problem, too. And then she died. I heard afterward from a lot of people that this kind of thing happens quite often with couples who have been close. The one who was left didn't take long to follow the one who died."
"What did you do then"
"I was alone, and I saw the world a little more clearly. The house that had been the symbol for me of safety and security since I was a baby had changed. Without my parents, it was just an empty, sad building. There was no help or advice or companionship, or even safety there anymore. There was a sadistic, crazy man out there somewhere, and the house suddenly seemed so fragile and insubstantial that he could walk in through the walls to get me. I mean, it was a one-story, sprawling ranch-style house with big glass windows everywhere. All he'd need was a rock. I went to a realtor and told him to estimate what the house was worth, price it twenty thousand cheaper, and sell it fast. The house sold, I deposited the check, packed up, and moved out in a hurry. I put my parents' furniture in storage, rented a one-bedroom apartment in a duplex, and moved in. Steve waited until one day when the people in the other half of the duplex had gone to work, and came and got me."
"Just like that"
"Pretty much. He kidnapped me-put tape over my mouth and wrists, then dragged me out to the back door into a van, taped my ankles, shut the doors, and drove off. He's big and strong; I was small and weak. That's all it takes. He drove to a place he had leased in Nevada. And then it began. Being his ex-wife was about being punished for being a failure as his wife, and for leaving him and divorcing him, and for not coming back when he told me to. There were no illusions about a romantic relationship. It was him getting even and teaching me a lesson. I was a person who had done him grave injury, and now I'd pay for it. He had me for five months before I got away."
"How did you accomplish that"
"He went grocery shopping. A couple of times when I'd gone with him I'd tried to get people to call the police, but they never had. Still, he kept his hand on my wrist after that. This time, he couldn't take me with him, because my face didn't look too good. So I waited until he was gone, and slipped out of the chain he had on my wrist. I had been preparing by not eating for a few days. He put the lock on the same link as always, but it was too big this time. I didn't really know where I was, but I knew it was Nevada and the sign on the highway said, `Las Vegas, 146 miles.' I hitchhiked to Las Vegas, but if I hadn't been picked up, I would have walked. I stopped when I found the shelter where I met you. I know I should have kept going, but I needed food and rest. But now I'm out, and I'll have a big head start on him, thanks to you."
"You're welcome," Jane said. "I'm glad you're okay. But I have something urgent I need to do when we get to Salt Lake City. I'll leave you as much money as I can, and get you checked into a safe hotel. But then I have to go. If you'd rather I leave you somewhere else, I'll try to do that."
"With you," Iris said. "I want to go with you."
"I can try to come back for you."
"Why can't I help you do whatever you're doing"
Jane took a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. "I know how this is going to sound, but I guess I have to say it and hope your gratitude or your ability to recognize me as a friend will keep you from ever repeating it. I'm running. I'm being hunted by some men who will kill me if they catch me, and they plan to take a long time letting me die. The reason I couldn't hang around to wait for the police in Henderson is because the cops are searching the country for me, too. And I'm in no shape to protect you. That bandage you saw around my leg is covering a gunshot wound. Just about the most dangerous place in the country you could be right now is with me."
"Please," said Iris.
"Are you even listening"
"Sure. I can repeat it all if you want."
Jane could see sincere fear in Iris's eyes, and the profound sadness of abandonment. Jane drove on, trying to make as much distance as she could. The next three times that she looked, Iris's eyes were still on her, unchanged. The fourth time, the eyes were closed. Iris was asleep.
Jane sped out of the lower slice of Nevada and kept going across Arizona. She knew she was driving through some of the most dramatic places in the country, but the deserts consisted of the two cone-shaped beams of headlight illuminating a road that seemed straight and infinite beyond her sight, and the mountains were a steep, winding ribbon of pavement that sometimes made her feel as though she were flying up, down, left, right like a plane in a dogfight. She could see the North Star in the clear black of the sky in the unlighted places she drove through.
She passed towns-Saint George, Cedar City, Beaver, Elsinore, Scipio, Nephi. The sun began to rise on her right, in time for Spanish Fork and Provo. When she came off the interstate at Salt Lake City she was glad she had told Jim Shelby to meet her here. By her reckoning she had driven 430 miles in about six hours. She was far enough from the West Coast so the escape a few days ago from the courthouse in Los Angeles would be little remembered here.
The Residence Inn where she had told Shelby to wait for her was four blocks east of the interstate, across the street from Pioneer Park. It was already eight thirty in the morning, and the traffic was steady, full of people going to work. As she approached the address, she recognized the big, low, brick building that looked like a huge house in a green space with a sidewalk jutting from the building to the street, and broad parking lots on both sides.
She scanned the lots for the new Camry she had left for Shelby in the barn near Riverside, California. But she had chosen the car well. There were probably thirty cars she could see that looked enough like it so she would have to go around on foot, examining each one closely.
Iris woke and sat up. "Is this where we're going"
"Yes. I'm going in alone. That will give me a chance to be sure everything's okay. I'll be back out in a while."
She pulled into the nearest lot, then drove to the part that was at the rear of the building and got out. She walked the length of the parking lot before she found the car she had left f
or Shelby. When she had scanned the rest of the lot to be sure nobody was watching the car, she approached it and looked inside to see if she could detect any damage or any signs that it had been opened by force. It seemed all right. She walked to a back entrance, went down a long hallway lined with rooms, and went to a small table in the lobby with a white phone on it. She picked up the receiver and heard a ringing signal. A female voice said, "How may I direct your call"
"Can you please ring John Leland's room"
After two rings, Jim Shelby's voice said, "Yes"
"Hi," she said. "It's me. What's your suite number"
"Two-sixteen."
"I'll be right up."
She went to the elevator just off the lobby and rode it to the second floor. As she stood there she felt distaste, then realized she was remembering the last elevator, the one that had brought Wylie, Gorman, and Maloney into her life.
The doors opened, the hallway was empty, and she walked out into the corridor. The door marked 216 opened, and Jim Shelby stood in the doorway. She slipped in and he shut the door, locked it, and bolted it. "I heard the elevator arrive," he said. He turned and stared at her. "What happened to you Why are you limping"
"I got shot," she said.
"Jesus. Who shot you One of the men at the courthouse"
"Not the ones we both saw. These came along later-one named Gorman and one named Maloney. They pretended to be cops, so I went with them. When I realized they were just more thugs, I tried to get away, and Maloney shot me. The one in charge is named Wylie. But that's all over. I'm here, and so are you. Tell me how it's gone so far."
"The way you said it would. No surprises."
"You were careful to be sure nobody followed you here"
"I'm positive. It was a long drive through open country. If there had been anybody following, I'd have seen him."
"You made stops and turnarounds to be sure"
"Yes. About four times before I got out of California, and then once every hour after that. I even got off the interstate and drove in the opposite direction to the last exit twice."
"Good," she said. She looked around her. "This is a nice place. I wish we could stay for a month and try to get over some of the things that have happened to us."
"We can't"
"No. What I'm worried about is your sister. When the hunters are looking hard for a fugitive and the trail goes cold, they go find the nearest relative. The day before I broke you out of the courthouse, I called your sister and told her to close up her house and get out of Austin. If we didn't make it, she could come back in a couple of weeks. If we succeeded and got you out, she would be the next way to get to you, so she had to stay away. She said she'd do it."
"Where did she go"
"I don't know yet. I told her to call the person who acted as go-between to get her in touch with me. I'll call the woman now and see what she knows. Have you seen a pay phone around here"
"There's one downstairs in the lobby."
"Good. I don't have a cell phone. Or any identification, or much of anything. Do you have any change"
Shelby emptied his pockets, then went to the dresser in his room and returned with a handful of coins. "I'll show you where it is."
"No. Show yourself as seldom as possible. I'll find it." Jane took the change and set off. She held herself with a stiff determination, ignoring the pain. When she reached the phone she dialed the number, put in the amount the recording demanded, and waited.
The voice that answered was a receptionist. "Legal office."
"I'd like to speak with Allison, please. This is Jane."
"Please hold." The receptionist's line was silent for a few seconds, but when she came back she said, "I'll put you right through."
The next voice was Allison's. "Jane. You're a celebrity in certain circles. Best jailbreak in memory."
"I've been in those circles. They can keep their award."
"And Kristen Alvarez sends her congratulations, too."
"Thank her again for letting me destroy her reputation."
"Not only does Kristen Alvarez have a reputation that's too good to ruin, but she's honored to have you borrow her name for a jailbreak when you do such a good job. I'm delighted that you let me in on it, too. Some of the things I've done for you are legally the worst things I ever did, but they're the ones I feel proudest of. When I fall asleep at night, what I think about isn't the nine-hundredth plea bargain. It's that I had the guts to-well, we both know, so there's no need to repeat things."
"Right. Did our mutual friend Sarah call yet with an address"
"Yes. It's 3592 Dryden Road, Ithaca, New York."
"Ithaca" Jane said. "You're joking."
"I'm not. I suggested it. You know Ithaca-it's pretty remote, but with lots of new people coming and going for the university."
"True. If she calls again for any reason, tell her I'm on my way."
"You're going there I could take a couple of days off and fly there. We could have a nostalgic lunch at Cornell or something." She laughed. "Coffee in Willard Straight Hall."
"The people who framed Sarah's brother will be trying to get to her now. She's all they've got, so this trip could be kind of tense."
"God, Jane. I wouldn't have your life for anything." She paused. "I'm sorry. That didn't sound the way I meant it."
"Yes, it did. And for the moment, at least, you're right. But I'm hoping things will look up shortly. Thanks again. See you."
"Good luck."
Jane hung up and walked back toward Shelby's suite. Allison was a woman she'd met when they were students at Cornell. After they'd graduated, Allison became a lawyer. A few years after that, she had unexpectedly come to see Jane at her house in Deganawida, New York. She explained that she had an innocent client who was about to be convicted, and she was positive that once the verdict was read, he would never get out of prison alive. She had spent the past two days meditating on her responsibilities as an officer of the court, a defense attorney, and a human being. She was aware that years before, when they were in school, Jane had made a friend and classmate disappear. Could she do it one more time
On the day of sentencing, Allison was in court, but the client was not. Since he wasn't violent, she got the judge to grant him an alternative court date, but he didn't turn up on that date, either. An all points bulletin was issued, a warrant for his arrest was circulated, and his picture and description were added to the displays on various police department bulletin boards. The particulars were still in the NCIC system, although nearly twenty years had passed and the fugitive student was pushing forty. Jane had met Kristen Alvarez years later, and had done a favor or two for clients of hers.
Jane went to the front desk in the hotel lobby, and waited for the young man in a sport coat to acknowledge her presence. He looked at her and raised his eyebrows.
"Hi," she said. "My name is Carol Rosen. I reserved the room for Mr. Leland, two-sixteen. I wondered if you have a second room available for me for the next week."
"For seven days" He went to the computer, and from the way he looked at the screen and typed, she could tell he knew he had one. "Yes," he said. He typed in some other mysterious information. "And how would you like to take care of that"
"You can put them both on the same American Express card," Jane said. "It's the one that ends in 65951, right Carol Rosen"
"Uh . . . yes. Do you happen to have it with you"
"I'm sorry, but I left it with my purse upstairs. Can I just stop in later and you can take another impression" She gestured toward her leg. "I've got a bad sprain, and I . . ."
"Well, sure," he said. She could tell that he didn't feel comfortable and wasn't supposed to do it, but was determined to be nice to her. She was obviously a good customer. He produced a card with the number of the room and the usual address and phone number information. "Just initial here and here, then sign here."
Jane did, and he said, "It's vacant right now, so you can have early check-in. How many keys will
you be needing"
"Two."
He produced two key cards, stuffed them into a folder, wrote Room 392 on it, and handed it to her.
"Thanks," Jane said.
"You're welcome, Mrs. Rosen."
Jane limped off to the parking lot. She got into the black car and shut the door. Iris sat up. "Sorry to keep you waiting."
"That's okay," said Iris. "I guess you need me to get out of the car, right"
"Not in the way you mean it. Here," she said. "I brought you a key card for your room. It's on the third floor, 392." She handed the little folder to Iris, and kept one of the two key cards. "It's vacant, so you might as well go right in."
"Oh, Melanie. How am I going to pay for it"
"You're not. It's charged to the American Express card of a woman named Mrs. Carol Rosen."
"Is that you"
"Sometimes it is. Tomorrow you can be Carol Rosen, except with the desk clerk on duty this morning. Get a look at him. You can sign for meals and charge them to the room. Also laundry. And I haven't explored the hotel, but I think there's a shop or two in there, so feel free to charge some clothes, too. Signing for things won't help anybody find you. There's no trail. Everything is in Carol Rosen's name, and I always pay the bill when it comes. I have a ride, so I'm leaving you the car. If something changes so you don't need it anymore, leave it somewhere safe, like an airport lot, call Sarah at the Lifeboat, and she'll send somebody to pick it up."
Iris leaned over and hugged Jane. "Thank you for everything. Are you leaving right now"
"No. I need to get some sleep first. Don't worry. I'll be back for you in a week or so. In case I'm late, here's the cash that Sarah gave me before we left."
"But then-"
"I'll have what I need." Jane put the money in her hand. "If for some reason you can't be here when I get back, call Sarah at the Lifeboat and let her know where I can find you. All right"
