by Angie West
***
“Well.” I yanked the pen out from behind my ear and tossed it onto the papers I’d spread around me on the bed earlier in the morning. “Isn’t this just dandy?” The words were forced through clenched teeth.
I let out a long, slow breath and went over the pages one more time to make sure I hadn’t missed anything, but I knew I wasn’t going to find some missing link. I was too thorough to have overlooked anything. It wasn’t a statement that was made out of vanity, but of simple fact. Pharmaceutical research was hard work and an exact science. The same could also be said for science as a whole. There are rules, formulas, and boundaries. There was very little that ever escaped my notice.
“That’s rich coming from the woman who maced her own butt,” I snickered, laughing at myself.
I leaned back against the headboard and folded my arms behind my neck. “Well, that’s it then,” I said to the cracked plaster ceiling. “The doorway is under a star, in a dark cave. Should have known.” The muttered words were accompanied by a shrug.
That much was true. I should not have been surprised, but I couldn’t help it. Was it too much to hope for…I don’t know…a MapQuest version of the directions? I tapped my fingers on the paper I had plucked from the pile. Something like, ‘Turn left at Monroe rock and follow Main Street twelve miles to Jefferson cave. Forty paces northeast, X marks the spot.’ God, these were going to be all but impossible to follow, I realized grimly.
Being unfamiliar with the area and most of the terrain to boot didn’t make matters any easier. It wouldn’t be an easy task in broad daylight, let alone in the dark. I wondered at that for a moment, curious about the reasoning behind such clandestine instructions. I felt the first tremor of nerves begin and vowed not to give it another thought. The plan was to start out that night, just before sundown. Going alone would slow me down considerably, but hiring a guide was out of the question.
A guide was exactly what was needed, but I was forced to remind myself that there could very well still be people after me. There was no way to know when John would be arrested, or who he may already have hunting me. It was impossible to say for certain that John would be arrested. But I trusted Mike, wherever he was, and as such was pretty sure my boss would be taken into custody before too long. Still, there was no guarantee of safety.
My eyes widened suddenly as an entirely new angle occurred to me. Had I made a mistake in handing the box over to the cops back in Seattle? Would the last official order that an enraged John Hanlen gave to an angry mob be something along the lines of “Kill Claire”?
I bit my bottom lip and peeked out the window of my tiny room, suddenly wary. Would he do it, if he had nothing left to lose? Just how far would he go? I wondered. Would he go after Megan? God, I had to warn her. I grabbed my purse and started out the door. I would find a phone and call her, warn her to…what? I let my hand drop away from the knob and set my purse down. What could I possibly tell my sister? To stay away from her cheating scum of an ex-husband? She already did that very well. There really wasn’t anything I could say to her that wouldn’t put her danger, was there? And if they had somehow managed to get a wire tap on her phone, they would know I contacted her.
No, I decided, she was safer without my help. If John thought she knew anything, he would have already done something about it. And, I rationalized, he would not go after her out of revenge. The fact that she was his ex-wife would make it too risky and out of the question. I knew that without a doubt. Megan would be fine. She was safe now, I told myself. I intended to keep it that way.
With that decided, I lifted my chin and snatched up my purse again. If I was going to get out of there on time that night, I would have to do some shopping. To have any chance at all of finding my mystery cave, I would need a compass and a map.
Three hours later, I finished marking the maps and could only hope that my parameters for the trek were accurate. If not, I shrugged, I would come back and try again the next night. Giving up was not an option.
“I’ll find it, Mike, that’s a promise,” I whispered on my way out the door.
I bought a gun, cringing all the while over the near certain knowledge that it was probably stolen. A week earlier, home security meant a high tech alarm system with a touch screen keypad, and even that was basically for show. I was notorious for neglecting to set the alarm. My code was 1234, which sure impressed the technician who installed the system. I realized that it was not the best choice for a home security code. I was also fully aware that in order for a system to work you had to actually use it. So why had I bothered to purchase the thing in the first place? The answer was simple enough. It shut my mother up, mostly. At least it had until Mike tattled on me for leaving my door unlocked while I was at work.
“One time…” I grumbled. “One time and he turns into a snitch. And here I am, risking my butt to get his out of trouble…” You know, they say that when it all goes, you start talking to yourself. I stopped in the middle of tying my hair into a tight ponytail to consider that. “Oh well,” I said around the elastic hair band between my teeth. I had bigger problems to deal with, and a long journey looming in front of me. The weight of the handgun in the bag at my side was a jarring reminder of what lay ahead. A week ago…I mused, staring into the wide mirror over the dresser in my hotel room. Now, I had no home, and security was a .38 under the cover of darkness.
I checked the bag one last time, taking silent inventory of the contents. Maps, gun, bullets, knife, food, water, and a flashlight were packed. Grabbing the other bag, I carefully took the key out, and frowned. There had to be a safer place to keep it. I had pockets and my pack. I stood there with my lips pursed and my hands on my hips, considering. The pack, I finally decided. The makeup case was quickly emptied onto the bed and the key went in. Once it was safely tucked next to the gun, I took a deep breath and walked out of my room and down to the hotel lobby.
The desk clerk was a tall man who looked to be in his forties. I smiled and handed him my room key, and his fingers brushed mine briefly during the exchange. The simple human contact was so…normal, I realized, and somehow it was reassuring. I sighed and gave him a sad smile. It was also the last normal thing I would do for a while.
“Leaving so soon, miss?”
“Yes, I…” I wet my lips and hoisted the second bag I carried onto the desk that was between us. “Please take care of this. I am not sure how long I will be gone, but I will come back for it—when I can.”
When he continued to stare at me in silence, I cleared my throat and rummaged through the bag. “Here,” I said when my fingers closed around a wallet. I dug out several bills and pushed them across the counter. “I think there’s a hundred dollars there. It’s American, but….” I trailed off, looking at him with hope in my eyes.
Finally, he closed his hand over the bills and pushed them back at me. “Keep your money.” He smiled with real warmth.
“No, please take it. I insist.”
He hesitated for a minute before he pocketed the cash. Probably decided he didn’t have all night to play a game of tug of war with me.
I bit my lip and glanced behind me at the door. So close, I thought. I could just say thank you and walk out.
“Um…listen—you should know…” I began, not sure how much I was obligated to tell him.
“What is wrong?” Instantly concerned, he reached out. “Are you in trouble?”
“No,” I assured him. “Yes. God, I don’t know.” I rubbed a hand over my face. Out of practice, I thought once more. I braced my palms on the desk and lowered my voice.
“Yes. I have not broken any laws…” Had I? I wondered for a brief moment but then shook my head. “There are some people after me…some men.”
“Ah,” he nodded, and clucked his tongue sympathetically. “It is a romantic situation.”
A romantic situation? I choked back a laugh. Oh, how I wished. And who the hell had more than one boyfriend at a time come after them?
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“Not exactly…my brother,” I explained. “These men took my brother and…now they’re after me. I don’t know if they will come here, but if they do, they will want what’s in that bag.”
His eyes widened as I finished, and he handed the bag back to me.
“I am sorry, I cannot keep this.”
“I’ll come back for it, I promise.”
“No—I mean, you must take this with you. I have a family. I will say that I never saw you, though. That much I can do. But to put my family at risk…I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I understand.” I shouldered the bag once more and smiled at him, because I did understand just what a hard burden it was to bear, how dangerous it was. “Thank you for helping me just the same. But if they have already come for me—if they saw me come in here…” I swallowed hard and tried to look brave. “Just tell them I left, and that you don’t know where I went. Don’t let them think you may know something, okay? That’s very important. But if you could maybe tell them you think you saw me head south?” I would be heading north.
“Yes, of course. Here, take your money.”
“No, keep it for your family,” I said softly. “Thank you.”
