A blue envelop with the name Poppy St. Croix caught her attention. It was for her, but no one had called her Poppy St. Croix since she was a little girl. As a child, when her father was around, he would read to her before bed. Poppy St. Croix was the name of a bunny in one of her favorite books. No one knew how obsessed she was with the beautiful bunny except her father. Arching a brow, she turned the envelope over in her hand. There was no return address nor was there any post markings on it.
Though tempted to toss it out, Amelia found herself sliding the opener through the soft, blue paper and pushing outward. The sound of paper coming apart filled the office briefly. She dropped the letter opener back into the holder and reached inside for a folded piece of paper.
Amelia. I know I’m the last person you wish to hear from. But if you’re reading this, I’m either dead or will be soon.
Amelia gasped. Her father wasn’t one for the dramatics. He spoke nothing but the truth, harshly so at times and he did not play mind games. This letter was in his handwriting which meant it came from him and she was in trouble, or soon would be.
Clearing her throat, she continued reading.
Remember when I told you if you got a letter from me like this and it said run, you’re supposed to run? It’s time, Amelia and I’m sorry I couldn’t have prepared you better.
At 2p.m, you will get another piece of mail from me. It will have some things inside the envelope you will need. The very second you receive it, I need you to leave the office. Take nothing with you, not even your cell. Leave the phone on your desk—it is being tracked. Once you are somewhere safe, open the package and follow the instructions inside it.
I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I really did set out to give you the best world possible and I really, truly do love you.
Dad.
Amelia immediately looked at the clock—she had forty five minutes before her father’s package arrived. She rummaged through her drawer for her phone and set it on the desk. Next she hurried out to speak with Sarah.
“I’ll be leaving the office early today. I’m not feeling well,” she lied. “If anyone calls for me ask them to give a call back tomorrow and take a message.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Oh, and I’m expecting a package. When it gets here, bring it to me immediately.”
Sarah nodded, and Amelia hurried back into her office. The next few minutes were spent pacing back and forth. She tried reading but it was a lesson in futility. Nothing was staying in her brain. She kept wondering what her father could have done to put her in such danger.
“If you ever get a letter from me telling you to run, don’t call me, don’t ask questions, just run. Understand?”
“Why?”
“Don’t ask questions.”
“But dad, there has to be a reason why.”
“Trust me, please?”
Another knock came at her door and this time Amelia damn near jumped out of her skin. Clearing her throat, she inhaled, exhaled before turning to her computer and pretending she was hard at work. “Come in.”
Sarah entered once more, this time with a medium sized envelope.
“Thank you,” Amelia said.
She ignored the curiosity in the girl’s eyes and Sarah exited. Once alone, Amelia ripped into the package. A cell phone, a passport, a credit card, a sum of money still in the bank band as well as a driver’s license and small book with what looked to be Russian on the cover toppled onto the desk. She instantly began going through things. The passport had her face, place of birth and country but the name Kristy Swansea.
“What did you get me into, dad?” Amelia asked.
She peered inside the envelope to find another letter.
Amelia, take all this stuff, put them in your purse. Take your original things home and leave them there. Afterward, I’d like you to rent a car under the name Kristy Swansea and drive to the address on the back of this letter. Meet with a man name Liam Snyder. Tell him the you’re the blackbird you. He will make sure you’re safe. Please, Amelia. I know you’re having a bad day by this point and my paranoia isn’t helping, but you are my daughter. They will hurt you and I could never forgive myself if that happens. Now, this letter will self-destruct—sorry, I figured you could use a bit of a smile. But in all seriousness, destroy this letter once you’ve arrived to Liam.
Dad
Turning the letter over, Amelia read the address and frowned. Of all the places this guy chose to live, why Kirkland Lake? Winter there was no joke. She used to see videos of the snow there and shivered even when it wasn’t snowing in Toronto. It got cold enough to freeze the damn lake hard enough for people to drive across it. All her life she’d managed to stay away from the middle of hell’s tundra, now her father had her flying toward it.
No.
Fuck all that noise.
Assuming someone else’s identity was illegal. There was no way she would break the law. With her luck, she’d get caught. Hell, she’d definitely get caught because she couldn’t tell a major lie to save her damn life. She would lose her job at the bank and everything she’d worked so hard for. But the worse of it, she could wind up going to prison. Amelia had come to the decision years prior she wouldn’t do well in prison.
No matter what was happening, this had to be another one of her father’s ploys to see her. He’d been MIA for ten years, why pop up now? What did he want?
And who the hell is Kristy Swansea?
The nagging question wouldn’t go away. Even after she gathered all the things her father sent her, shoved them to the bottom of her purse and hurried by Sarah for the elevator, it stayed with her.
It didn’t matter because Amelia had no intentions of going anywhere.
The ride back to Kennedy Station wasn’t a crowded one. But she sat in the last car, back to the wall, watching everyone who came and went wondering if they were the ones out to get her. She noted every emergency exit, just like her father had taught her the third to last time before he vanished.
Who did that?
Who taught their little girl how to mark a suspicious face, how to escape a building if being chased, how to lose a tail—she was a teenager and he’d made sure she could free herself like a secret agent.
At the last stop, she all but bolted from the train, darted ahead of everyone else and jogged up the escalator. At the top she made a right turn, through the turnstiles then ran up the two sets of steps and burst out the door to the parking lot. When she found her car amongst the sea of others, Amelia checked the backseat like she’d been taught. With that clear, she checked over her shoulders and around her. The parking lot was full of vehicles but as far as she could see, she was the only person there, aside from the attendant. On her right side the street was clear except for a speeding car followed by a city bus. On her other side was a wall.
“This is stupid.” She muttered, walking to the driver’s side, pulling the door open and climbing in. Instead of going to a car rental place like the letter instructed her Amelia drove toward home, stopping to pick up groceries and an ink cartridge for her printer. When she was finally on the 401 highway heading to her house, she called her best friend on the hand’s free.
“Lady, you are one hard person to get a hold of,” Lisa Clemons said. “You left work early?”
“Yeah.” Amelia toyed with the idea of telling Lisa all but refrained. “I’m not feeling well.”
“You okay?”
“Just a headache.”
The lie came too easy, she thought.
“Well, go home and rest. No staring at the computer screen for you,” Lisa said. “Hey, listen. There was a cop here earlier asking me questions about you.”
Amelia arched her brow. “A cop? What kind?”
“Um—A Columbo-esque sort. Trench coat, shiny badge, I don’t know—a cop.”
“What kind of questions was he asking?”
“The regular stuff—how long I’ve known you. Have you ever been in trouble with the law? I figured
your bank was doing another one of their random checks again.”
“Yes. That’s probably what it was.” Amelia agreed. She didn’t want to spook Lisa. Her bank had a company responsible for background checks and they were way past talking to people in their workers’ lives. Instead, the bank used an RCMP check. Door to door investigating commanded too much time and manpower. “So, how are you doing? I haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks. I feel abandoned.”
“Oh, Sweet Thang, you know I adore you!” Lisa joked. “But lately more films have fallen on my desk than the last five damn years. I have to cast six this week and I feel like I’m drowning.”
“What you need is a girl’s night,” Amelia said. “Why don’t I clear up some stuff then let you know? We could rent a hotel room, do the whole girl’s weekend spa deal and not have to clean up our mess—what do you think?”
“I think I love you.”
Amelia laughed. “Okay. I’m driving. I’ll call you later.”
“Good. Later hon.”
Amelia pressed the disconnect button on the steering wheel then checked her mirrors and switched lanes to speed around an SUV going way under the speed limit. When she finally hung a left onto her street, she slowed considerably. Her mood had somehow lifted with thoughts of spending some quality time with her best friend. But her happiness didn’t last long A black van parked across the street from anyone’s house would set off alarm bells.
“Now, how could anyone miss that?” She muttered. Obviously, it didn’t belong in her neighbourhood. The only thing it had were minivans and sports cars. Amelia may not believe her father’s hype but she’d seen enough movies to know windowless black vans meant trouble.
Instead of going all the way down the street to her house, she made a left turn onto Hamilton, a right on Denby, then a right onto Trafalgar. She eased to a stop at the intersection of Trafalgar and Pope and put her hazards on before climbing from the car and walking to the large tree on the corner. Using it to shield her body, she watched the black van for a moment.
Amelia wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there. But after a while, a man in a dark hoodie, emerged from her front yard, crossed the street and hopped back into the van. She instantly pulled out her cell and turned it off. After it went black, Amelia snapped the back open and pulled out the battery then dropped the pieces into her pocket.
Back in her car, she made a U turn back the way she’d come but parked on a small street off Denby. She walked through the alley, cut across her neighbour’s backyard then pushed herself through an opening in the fence of her yard behind the house. After looking around, she let herself in the back door and closed it quietly behind her.
When Amelia turned around, her house looked like a tornado hit it. The kitchen was a mess—pots were strewn everywhere. The drawers were out and the contents dumped on the floor. The sugar container, the spices, the flour and cornmeal were all dumped on the floor and in the sink. The cupboard doors hung open—a couple hung off the hinges.
She silently went further into the house—the living room was an utter disaster for the intruder had cut open her sofa cushions, shoved over both book shelves, smashed her fifty two inch television screen. The person or persons had yanked the pictures off the wall and the frames holding her Bachelor’s degree and other certifications, were all smashed on the floor.
Frowning, Amelia made her way into the office which didn’t fare any better. Only here, they smashed her laptop, ripped the wires out of the walls, dumped water on her desk and toppled over her book cases there as well.
Amelia’s fury grew darker with each room she went through . Though she wanted to charge outside and send her fists into their faces, she knew better. Amelia could see now her father had been right. Someone was after her and the sooner she figured out why and who, the better.
Hurrying back to the kitchen, she found a jug in all the mess and filled it with water. She pulled out her dismantled cell and dropped it in then set the jug into one of her cupboards and closed the door.
Maybe it was time to rent that car.
Chapter 2
The beginning of the journey was uneventful enough. Amelia had managed to get ahead of the Toronto rush hour madness only to crash into the one going toward Barrie. Though the GPS told her to take the 407 highway, she skipped it and hit the 401 instead. The 407 was a toll road which recorded everything.
She didn’t want to be seen.
By the time she reached Barrie, though she didn’t want to stop, Amelia had to. Her bladder had been screaming at her ever since she got on the ON-11. She found a Tim Horton’s in the middle of nowhere and pulled into the parking lot. Her laziness had her ignoring her winter jacket for her cardigan and after wrapping it around herself, she bolted into the building. She must have looked like a cartoon character the way she skidded to a stop to find the washroom signs.
It was hard to find a stall she wanted to use—they were all equally cramped and sketchy. Still, she relieved herself, washed her hands then stopped at the counter and bought a few donuts and a large coffee. Usually, she wouldn’t have coffee after lunch because it made sleep hard at nights. This was a special occasion—so, damn the consequences.
Soon she was back on the road, breaking all speed limits while keeping her eyes out for cops. Amelia turned on the radio and scanned until she found a top forty station. Thankfully, it played songs she knew the lyrics to. Singing kept her mind occupied with something other than freaking out about random headlights behind her.
Most of that stretch of highway had no streetlights. The only thing illuminating her way was her truck. From time to time, a set of lights would shine behind her and her heart raced until the vehicle either overtook her or turned off on some side road.
She made short bathroom breaks in small places during the trip but made a longer pit-stop in North Bay. There, she put air in her tires, filled her tank, use the bathroom then stopped at a restaurant to eat. Her next stop was Temiskaming and six hours later, she was pulling onto Kirkland Street West in Kirkland Lake, Ontario.
Finding Liam Snyder’s address was a whole other matter all-together. When she reached the side road leading toward his street, her GPS went dark. At first, she thought it had died and needed charging. After a quick investigation, she frowned even deeper. It went dark because apparently his part of the world wasn’t mapped into the technology. Amelia banged her fists into the steering wheel and groaned. The urge to cry was overwhelming.
“It’s okay,” she said, leaning forward to peer out the windshield.
All she saw was darkness.
“It’s going to be okay. Everything will work out fine.”
From time to time a sliver of moonlight would peek out from behind a cloud, reaching down like the hand of God. Otherwise, Amelia was on her own. Inhaling, she eased the truck forward slowly, keeping an eye out for a sign or an arrow, smoke signals, anything to tell her she was going the right way.
The tires crunched snow along the path of other vehicles and it seemed as if she was driving to Timbuktu when a sign finally came into view. It told her to turn left. There were no lights, not even the moon took pity on her. The way ahead of her was pitch black, no street signs, no hand of God. In her mind, Amelia was driving into the great abyss.
In the headlights up ahead, she made out what looked like a cabin. Leaning a little bit further until her breasts pressed into the steering wheel, she tried looking for smoke or a light in a window.
Nothing.
Did her father send her to God’s nowhere to be stuck there by herself?
Still, Amelia eased the vehicle as close as she could to the front porch without blocking it or crashing into the actual structure. She shoved the truck into park but didn’t climb out until she was wearing her boots and winter jacket. When she finally turned off the ignition, Amelia realized just how truly quiet it was around her. No birds. No crickets—just the moon and silence.
Stepping outside, Mother Nature slapped her across th
e face. The cold instantly soaked clean through to her bones, leaving her shivering, her teeth chattering. She was making her way around the back of the truck when a growl filled the air.
Amelia skidded to a stop.
Growl.
Slowly, she turned around and almost missed the black wolf dog—no, that can’t be right. Squinting, she saw she had been wrong. It wasn’t a wolf dog but an actual wolf. Amelia screamed and tried moving backward only to trip over herself and hit the snow-covered ground, hard Grunting, she pushed against her palms to propel her away from the animal.
“Doc!” A stern voice called.
Amelia looked up to see a man, the tip of a shotgun pointing upward behind him. “Stay back!” She told him. “You’ll spook it!”
“Lady, your scream could’ve woken the dead. If he wasn’t spooked by that I don’t think I could.” The man reached forward and swatted the wolf against the rump gently, like he would a pet. “Easy Doc. Get inside.”
The wolf sniffed at Amelia then trotted off as if she had been wasting his time. Amelia frowned.
“You’re trespassing,” the man said, extending a hand toward her.
Amelia wanted to tell him to go bite himself but she accepted the hand. Once she was on her feet, she yanked her hand back. “I’m looking for Liam Snyder.”
“Who’s askin’?”
“I’m Amelia—Hemmingway?”
“Uh-huh?” He tilted his head to peer at her.
“My father is—I’m the Blackbird.”
The man nodded then turned toward the steps leading to the front door where the wolf was patiently waiting. “Come inside or you’ll freeze to death.”
“Wait, are you Liam Snyder or not? I don’t want to waste your time or anything. But it’s real important I find him.”
“I’m Liam Snyder.” The man didn’t stop moving until he’d opened the door to let the wolf in. “You’re not dressed for this weather. Come inside.”
Wraith (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) Page 2
