On the Run

by Charlotte Greene

  “So what do you want me to do?” Trixie asked.

  Annie looked at Gwen helplessly.

  “Well,” Gwen said, “I guess we want your advice more than anything. We have the account numbers but nothing else. What do we do next?”

  “Can you…” Annie said, rolling her hands.

  “Can I get the money for you?” Trixie asked. She stared at Annie for a long, hard moment, then gave a single nod. “I might be able to help you get it, but I guess I have a question for you. What do you really want, Annie? Do you want the money, or do you want revenge?”

  Annie flushed and reacted as if she’d been slapped, jerking back in her chair. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve got these bank-account numbers, right?”

  Annie nodded.

  “So that means you have all the evidence you need to put the two of them behind bars. It would be hard for them to deny that evidence when they’ve been so careless with it. Even if they moved the money now, it wouldn’t matter—the proof is already there. With your testimony, they would probably go away for a long time, and like you said, it could help your sentence, too.”

  Annie’s face had drained of color, and she seemed to have almost caved in on herself. Her arms were squeezed across her chest, and her shoulders were hunched up, her body far back in her chair.

  “What if I want both?” she asked, almost whispering.

  Trixie laughed. “Now you’re talking. Tell me what you have in mind.”

  Annie’s gaze darted to Gwen. “I guess, if I could make it happen, I’d get the money—some of it, anyway—and they’d be arrested.”

  “What about you? Would you be willing to go back to jail?”

  Gwen’s stomach dropped at the idea, and she watched Annie carefully, trying to keep the anxiety out of her eyes. She didn’t want to influence her in any way.

  Annie was quiet for a long time. “I guess if I had the money, then yes. It was for my sister, after all. If I know she’s taken care of, then…”

  Trixie laughed. “That’s very noble of you, hon, but it might not come to that. It might be possible for you to have your cake and eat it, too.”

  Gwen’s hopes rose. The last thing she wanted was for Annie to go back to prison. Even with a reduced sentence, she didn’t know if she could take the thought of being apart from her for any length of time.

  “So what do you suggest?” Gwen asked.

  Trixie glanced back and forth at them and grinned. “Blackmail.”

  “What?” they asked in unison.

  Trixie laughed again. “Blackmail. Get them on record, admitting what they’ve done—one or both of them. A recording would be best. You have the upper hand now, since you have the bank records. If you have them on tape, actually admitting what they did, it would go a lot further with the police. Let Susan and whatever his name is know you have proof—the bank accounts and the recording—and blackmail the hell out of them. Get them to transfer the money, however much you want, to your account, and I can help you hide it. Then, when you have the money safely tucked away, Gwen will make contact with the police and hand all the records over to them.”

  Annie’s eyes were blazing with triumph. “Do you really think it would work?”

  Trixie tilted her head back and forth. “Maybe, maybe not. The other option would be robbing them blind, but then they’re still out there, and from what you said, these two are dangerous characters. You have some place you can hide for the rest of your life?”

  Annie shook her head. “Not really. I was going to figure that out once I had the money.”

  “Well, that’s the other option. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to move before they catch on, but if we start with the bigger amounts, you’d have enough to start over.” She paused, frowning. “But it’s definitely harder that way. It would mean hacking the bank accounts, which isn’t easy. Much better if we can get them to give the money to you. I can hide it easy enough, and probably better than they did.”

  “Can you do it? Hack the banks?” Gwen asked.

  “Maybe. But even if I could, it’ll take some time. I’d have to make some phone calls, involve some other people, but I know it can be done. Of course, if we had passwords and key codes, it’d be a lot easier. Did you see anything like that on their computer?”

  Annie shook her head. “No, but I wasn’t really looking for them. I only looked for the account numbers.”

  “You said you were able to email them to yourself? So is their computer hooked up to do that?”

  “They have AOL.”

  Trixie laughed. “Of course they do. Well, I guess if you’re thinking of going that route, hacking them, it might be worth seeing if they’ve hidden anything else on that computer, or if they have any links to the passwords through the World Wide Web.”

  “How would we do that?” Gwen asked.

  “You’d go back to the house and install a reader. I’d be able to see everything on their computer that way.”

  Annie stared down at the ground, clearly hesitant to make a decision. “I guess I need to think about it.”

  “No problem—and no pressure either way. It’s going to get really busy in here later today, but I might find some time to poke around a little for you on my computer, make a couple of anonymous phone calls.” She pointed at the computer. “Why don’t you email that list to me, Annie, so I can get started.” She bent down and picked up her purse, pulling out a set of keys. She slid one off the ring and handed it to Gwen. “That will unlock the house—you remember where it is, right? You two can hang out there till I get home. It’s got a swamp cooler, so you won’t boil to death. Just turn it on when you get there. Cools the whole place in like ten minutes.”

  “Thanks, Trixie.”

  “Don’t mention it. Though could you be dears and pick up some tequila on your way over there? I ran out last night.”

  Gwen waited for Annie to finish emailing Trixie the list of bank accounts, and then the two of them left the office, both carrying flyers for local attractions in case anyone spotted them. Though she’d seen herself and Annie on the news a couple of times now, Gwen was fairly certain no one would recognize them on the street unless they drew attention to themselves somehow or someone was actually searching for them. Also, Gwen had noticed when they watched the news last night that they’d already been bumped down to a ten-second mention from the full minute they’d had the night before. Still, it didn’t hurt to blend in a little.

  Trixie’s house was a nice, wide, bright-pink modular in a small neighborhood near downtown. The little front yard was crammed with colorful metal sculptures of aliens and farm animals, some life-sized, some comically over-large, like the seven-foot rooster near the front door. Gwen vaguely remembered from the last time she’d been here, some two years ago, that Trixie made and sold these things in her spare time, but she had clearly increased her earlier output, as there were far more of the sculptures than during her last visit. Trixie had a big metal workshop in her backyard almost as big as the house. A few of her sculptures were festooned with patriotic bunting, ostensibly for Independence Day, but with all the banners and signs they’d passed on the way here, the decorations could as easily stand in for the big alien celebration later this week. The sidewalks and parking lots throughout town had been full to the brim with visitors of every sort. They’d seen several people in various alien and science-fiction costumes, as well as every manner of tinfoil hat. The anniversary party was still a few days away, but some people were apparently making a vacation of it.

  The little liquor store they’d stopped at on the way had been annoyingly crowded, despite the early hour, and they’d grabbed some things in a little grocery afterward. They were still driving the car Gwen had stolen in Denver, which she found no reason to trade in. No one would check the plates, especially here and now, with all these wackos visiting from out of town.

  Trixie had left the blinds down, likely to keep the sun out, and Gwen immediately threw open a win
dow and turned on the swamp cooler. They put the groceries and drinks away and carried their small overnight bag into the guest room. The cooler was working by then, and they sat down in the armchairs in front of it, letting the chilly wind blow on them. It was only ten in the morning, but the heat outside was crushing. Gwen let her eyelids drift closed, still tired from the previous day and a poor night’s rest.

  She dozed for a few minutes, then yawned, shook herself awake, and rubbed her face. “I could use a real shower.”

  “Mmm,” Annie said. Her head was thrown back on the chair, her eyes closed tight.

  “I’ll make it quick.”

  Annie waved a hand weakly and vaguely as if to say she’d heard but couldn’t respond. Sitting there almost boneless in her chair, she appeared as relaxed as Gwen had ever seen her. Two little red spots from the heat colored her pale cheeks, and her clothes, like Gwen’s, were sweaty and threadbare. They’d changed from their fake tourist gear yesterday in the hotel, but everything they owned had come from a poorly stocked thrift store outside Denver. Gwen was tempted to kiss her cute little nose, but she left her there unmolested and headed to the bathroom.

  Trixie had renovated since the last time Gwen had stayed here. The shower was much larger, with two heads and a little tiled seat. Gwen turned on the cold water, and after stripping off, she sat on the seat and let the water simply rain down on her hot skin. She must have dozed off again, as she woke up with a snap after almost slipping off the seat. She grabbed uselessly at the walls before regaining her balance, laughing nervously at herself. She hadn’t done anything to actually wash herself, so she stood up and quickly washed her hair and body, using Trixie’s food-scented soaps and shampoo.

  She grabbed her towel to dry off, catching a strong whiff of her cake-batter-smelling skin, then stared down at her sweaty clothes with dismay. She didn’t want to put them on again, so she wrapped herself in a towel to go see if anything clean was left in their bag.

  Annie was coming down the hall from their bedroom, holding a towel and a new outfit. “I thought you’d drowned in there.”

  “Sorry. I think I fell asleep.”

  “Don’t blame you. Last night was the pits. Why don’t you go lie down for a while? We’re not going anywhere today, are we?”

  “I thought we might go buy some new clothes. Even something from a department store would be better than these rags.”

  Annie grimaced. “In this heat?”

  Gwen sighed. “Yeah. I didn’t think of that. I guess I should have waited to take a shower.” She glanced at a clock on the wall. “Still, we have lots of time. Trixie won’t be home till pretty late—four or five, I think, at the earliest. I’m not sure if we’ll have another chance for a while.”

  Annie batted her eyelashes. “Darling?”

  “Yes?”

  “Could you go without me? The thought of braving a Walmart or K-Mart right now makes me want to kill myself.”

  Gwen laughed and kissed her. “Okay, hon. What color shirts do you want?”

  “Anything but black.”

  * * *

  Gwen returned about two hours later, struggling to carry all the bags. She’d gone a little overboard, but she was tired of looking like she was homeless. She’d hit three stores at the mall and Payless for shoes. Her boots worked well for most things, but in this kind of weather, it was like wearing heavy sweaters on her feet.

  “My hero!” Annie threw her arms around her neck and kissed her soundly.

  Gwen laughed and set the bags down. “I’ve come bearing gifts, milady. I had to guess your tastes, though, so no complaining.”

  Annie held up three fingers. “I swear I will not complain.”

  They spent the rest of the afternoon in relative quiet—doing laundry, napping, and playing cards. Like the previous weekend, Gwen found it incredibly easy to be around her—so much so that it was easy to forget everything else that was happening. Annie was still weighing her options about the money and Susan and Bill, and she didn’t want to push her on it by talking about it too much, but she was also dying of curiosity. Occasionally, she caught Annie staring into space, clearly mulling things over, but never brought up the subject. Annie needed to decide on her own.

  Around three, after trouncing her in poker, Annie suggested that she go lie down until Trixie came home. She wanted to make her a nice dinner as a thank-you, and Gwen was firmly forbidden from helping. Gwen fell asleep almost at once and slept soundly until Annie knocked on the door.

  Annie stuck her head in a moment later and smiled when she saw Gwen. “Your hair’s sticking up all over.”

  “Mmm. I bet.”

  “Take a shower and come join us. She just got here.”

  Gwen was surprised to see that several hours had passed. She’d expected Trixie home closer to four or five, and it was almost seven thirty. She’d napped for almost five hours, and judging by the way she felt, she hadn’t moved a single time since she lay down. She stretched the stiffness out of her joints and grabbed some new clothes, heading for the shower.

  When she joined them, she saw a large pitcher of margaritas on the kitchen island and a big bowl of salad. Something was cooking in the oven, filling the room with a mouthwatering scent.

  “There she is,” Trixie said, “and looking more like her old self again.”

  Annie had changed, too, and Gwen thought the casual T-shirt and cotton skirt looked nice and natural on her. She had no idea what kind of clothes Annie had worn in her everyday life before she’d been arrested, but it must have been something like this.

  “Want one?” Annie asked, holding up the pitcher.

  Gwen shook her head. “Not right now. I could use some caffeine, actually.”

  “You’ll find some sun tea in the fridge,” Trixie said, pointing. “It’s sweet—just like my mama used to make.”

  Soon, the three of them carried their food and drinks over to the little dining-room table. Gwen had expected something heavy and fried, judging from Annie’s usual restaurant choices, but she’d made what she called “margarita chicken”—a citrus and herb blend on moist breasts—and Spanish rice with vegetables. With a fresh salad dressed with red-onion vinaigrette, it was the perfect hot-weather meal. All three dug in and ate with barely a word.

  “Well, gosh, Annie,” Trixie said a while later, “that was lovely. Thank you. I can’t remember the last time someone cooked for me.”

  “The pleasure’s mine. I haven’t been able to cook in a long time.” Her face fell briefly, but she smiled again a second later. “And anyway, I wanted to thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For inviting us to stay, for helping us. You didn’t have to do anything.”

  Trixie laughed. “Of course I didn’t have to, Annie, but your girl Gwen here has saved my bacon enough times, I figured it was my turn. And anyway, I like her. Not like you like her, but well enough.” She winked.

  Annie laughed. “Okay. But thanks anyway.”

  “So what did you decide?”

  Trixie’s bluntness startled Gwen, and she waited for Annie’s response. Annie was quiet for a while before shaking her head.

  “I didn’t really decide. I guess it’s like you say—I want it both ways. But I want the money. I guess I’d like to see if we can get it without them knowing. I’ll always have the bank records, and maybe later I’ll turn them over to the police, anonymously, but I want the money more.”

  “So you want me to try to hack them?”

  “Yes. I want to try that first. If you can’t, then maybe we can move on to the next thing, but I’d like the money before that.” Annie threw Gwen a quick glance, blushing slightly. “The truth is, I think I wanted revenge because I was so mad at her. She betrayed me. But really, it won’t make me feel any better if she goes to prison. I don’t want anyone to go through what I did.”

  Gwen was shocked. This morning and most of the last few days, Annie had been angry—furious, even. This was a complete reversal.


  Trixie seemed to pick up on this difference as well. “Why the change of heart?”

  Again, Annie glanced at Gwen and away, her expression strangely guilty. “Well, when I talked to her today—”

  “What?” Gwen said, almost shouting.

  Annie flushed. “When I called her this afternoon—”

  “This afternoon?” Gwen leapt to her feet and raced to the front window, looking outside between the slats of the wooden blinds. She peered up and down the street, trying to remember if she’d seen all those cars earlier. So many were out there, parked on the street and in the driveways of the nearby houses, she had no way to know. She let go of the blind and turned around, fists clenched.

  “Annie, what the hell? Why did you do that?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Annie was clearly shocked. Her mouth worked uselessly on itself before she managed to speak. “You told me to!”

  “The hell I did!”

  “You told me to call her, to throw her off the scent.”

  Gwen took a step toward her. “But not from here. How could you be so fucking stupid? They could be here any minute!”

  “Just hold your horses there, buster,” Trixie said. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

  “Stay out of this, Trixie,” Gwen said, almost shouting.

  Trixie stood up, slamming her fists on the table. “The hell I will! You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Shut up and sit your ass down.”

  Gwen’s anger was roiling through her in hot waves, and she had a wild temptation to throw Trixie’s nearest sculpture across the room. She made herself close her eyes and take a few deep breaths, forcing herself to relax. When she opened them again, Trixie was still glowering at her, and Annie looked frightened. That did it. She felt instantly terrible, and her tension and anger evaporated at once.

  “Are you ready to act like a mature, normal member of the human race?” Trixie asked.