by Maggie Thom
She had to assume the guy from the previous night was still after them, though she didn’t know why he was chasing them or what he wanted. She knew the answer lay in her past, which meant she had to somehow find people who remembered her and her mom and convince them to tell her something that would make sense. The thought of going back through a maze of places and time made her shiver and goosebumps to cover her arm. A devilish face which had plagued her childhood and many of her adult dreams popped into her mind.
Refusing to allow that nightmare to take hold, she opened the bathroom door. A loud sucking sound as though air and a bit of water was being sucked through an inadequate straw met her, followed by a gentle whooshing. Tiptoeing to the far bed, she stared at her partner. He lay on his back, his head turned to the side. She was amazed with the racket he was making that the curtains weren’t fluttering. His bangs fell across his forehead. It wasn’t until she felt the heat of his skin on her fingers that she realized she was about to brush them aside and she yanked her hand back.
She sat down heavily on the other bed, confused by her concern and her reaction to him. The last thing she needed to do right now was to analyze her emotions. To avoid it, she picked up the remote and turned on the TV, lowering the volume. She flipped through stations until she found a news station. The anchor was reporting a serious traffic accident in Calgary’s south side. Another large company was about to declare bankruptcy and there had been a hit and run.
About to flip the channel, she stopped when they showed the street where the killing had occurred. She pressed her hand to her mouth as she recognized it.
“Payme, well known to police...”
Bailey stared hard at the photograph they displayed. He had a long, lean face, brown eyes, a hook nose and bad acne. She recognized him instantly as the intruder. But who the hell was he and what had he wanted with her? Who killed him?
Her mind raced with one question after another, but the one that would not let go was, 'What did you do, Mom?’
Without a doubt, her mom had something to do with all of it. As she pondered the information Guy had been trying to give her almost from the moment he’d met her, she realized it could no longer be ignored.
You’re not who you think you are.
Bailey hadn’t wanted to listen. She knew as soon as she did, she’d have to admit it was true. Just letting the thought loose in her head confirmed what her gut was telling her, leaving her with a strong sense that what her life had been for the last 29 years wasn’t what it should have been.
All the frantic moves, the constant picking up and starting over, living in places not fit for four-legged creatures, eating whatever could be begged, borrowed or stolen, the late night disappearance acts, the constant need to hide, all came flooding back. Like an avalanche came the horror that not only had she been alone all her life, now she didn’t even know her true identity.
Clutching her chest, she curled onto her side, pulling her knees in tight to her belly. She lay there for a while, trying to stop the images that flew at her at warp speed. At five, there was the mouse that had run across her mattress on the floor. At three, she was staring out the back window of the cab as they drove away. At ten, they ran away to live under a bridge. Faces distorted into frightening Halloween masks.
Enough!
She jumped to her feet, slid on her runners, grabbed her coat, yanked open the door and raced outside. Not stopping to think, she ran. After all, it was what she knew how to do. She pounded the pavement, her heart thumping in her chest, her pulse throbbing in her neck as she gulped what air she could. It wasn’t until her muscles tightened and knotted up that she finally stopped. Bent over, heaving with exhaustion, she didn’t straighten up for a good five minutes. Her head throbbed, her legs felt watery and her lungs protested the excessive exercise. At least she had something else to focus on, something other than what her life was or what it could have been. Standing up slowly, she massaged her thighs, easing the aching muscles. Her fingers moved over the small but distinct lump in her pocket and reality came slamming back. Fight; that’s what she knew how to do.
She hadn’t a destination in mind when she’d set out, nor had she paid attention to her surroundings. But looking across the street she couldn’t believe her luck—an internet café. She zipped through the steady stream of vehicles headed in both directions. Walking through the door, she stopped as a complex aroma of coffees, teas, spices and herbs assailed her senses.
Nirvana came to mind. Reeling from the overdose of smells and salivating on command, she walked up to the old-fashioned counter with the tall baker window beside it. She refused to look at the delectable selection of sweets. Instead, she smiled at the middle-aged woman.
“Hi. I was wondering...” Bailey’s eyes opened wide as she patted down her pants pockets and realized she’d left her money and her bag in the room. “How does it work to get on a computer and get access to the internet?”
“The amount of time you want determines how much it costs.”
“Do I book in advance or just show up?”
“It’s first-come, first-served.”
“So I can get on it now?”
The woman shook her head and waved in the direction of a few crowded tables. “Sorry, that’s the line up.”
“Fine. Thanks.” Spinning on her foot she intended to walk out the door, only to be met by a pair of very intense blue eyes.
“If you came to buy coffee, you forgot it.” His tone indicated that he wouldn’t believe any excuse she offered.
Ignoring a twinge of guilt, she replied, “Actually, I did want a coffee but as luck would have it I forgot my money.”
He eyed her critically before shoving his hand in his pocket and pulling out $20. “Black coffee and two glazed donuts.”
“Looking for an early heart attack?” Before he could reply, she seized the twenty and stomped back into the café. Five minutes later she was back, balancing two coffees and a bag of treats.
She handed him the coffee but held the bag out of reach when he grasped for it. He arched an eyebrow at her. She smiled sarcastically. “Uh-uh-uh. I get to choose first and you’ll just have to wait until we get back to the room.”
As though she was talking directly to his stomach, it growled. They looked at each other and started laughing. The light moment allowed them to walk companionably but silently to the motel, each lost in thought. She almost felt a sense of calm, of just being, a feeling that was foreign to her. She noticed Guy looking over his shoulder and knew she should be concerned as well, but she just couldn’t muster the energy. She had enough to ponder.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Guy steered Bailey away from the main road and cut through a heavily treed path that he’d taken in search of her. He glanced behind him, immediately noting the slow-moving blue truck and the string of traffic piled up behind him.
After dodging through a few circuitous side streets, they meandered back to the motel. He ushered her inside, briefly explaining that he wanted to scout the area. He walked to the corner of the motel and dialed Graham. When he received his voice mail, he left a message. “I have another vehicle and license plate for you.” He rattled off the information. “I’ll call later.”
The area was quiet. Very little traffic passed by. Guy strolled around the motel and then around the block. Fifteen minutes later, he knocked on the door, announcing it was him before using his key to enter their room. Bailey was just coming out of the bathroom; her eyes met his for several heartbeats, before she reached for the cafe bag. She pulled out two raspberry-filled pastries.
“Speaking of heart attacks.”
She shrugged as she handed him the bag. It held two glazed donuts and one blueberry-filled one.
“Okay, want to tell me why you snuck out this morning?” Guy quickly wolfed down a donut and reached for a napkin to wipe his hands. She was staring at his fingers but appeared deep in thought. He’d have given anything to know what had put that defeatist expression o
n her face. She looked like she needed to say something, as if she wanted to tell him what was going on. Like maybe she was starting to trust him.
Not sure what to do, he casually tossed the paper towel into the wastebasket. When he faced her again, the moment had passed and her chin was thrust out, her shield back in place. Sighing inwardly, he sat on the edge of the bed.
She paced to the window but didn’t pull back the curtain. “I needed some air. My life is flipped upside down.” She faced him. “And I’ve got some lunatic telling me to trust him. The only catch is he keeps telling me, I’m not me.”
Guy flopped backward and stared at the water-stained ceiling. “I don’t know what I’d do in your shoes. I don’t even know how to tell you everything I need to.” Blowing out his breath, he sat up. “Here’s what I do know. You were born on February 2, 1983 to...” He looked away. “Let’s just say to a nice couple for now.”
She slammed her hands onto her hips. “Are you freakin’ telling me, you won’t say who my parents are? You want me to believe your bullshit but you won’t tell me who they are?” Spinning away, she clenched her fists and shook them before tapping them against her forehead. She turned back to glare at him before grabbing her bag and heading for the door. “You’re an ass!”
He was off the bed and had his hand planted over her head before she even managed to grab the knob. She refused to turn. “I know it sucks. But... there are other people I have to listen to. For now. It was devastating for them when you were stolen at just two days old.”
“Why was I still in the hospital?”
“You had a cough and the doctors wanted to make sure it cleared up.”
“And then, according to you, I vanished.” She spun around and pushed against his chest.
For a moment, he didn’t budge. He liked the feel of her small, soft hand against his body. Knowing this wasn’t the time to pursue that topic, he stepped back. She took a wide berth around him, walked over to the bed and flopped down onto it, only to come to her feet just as quickly.
“Why did someone steal a two-day-old baby?”
He stared at the wall behind her. It took him a moment to answer. “We think it had to do with the black market.”
“You’re telling me you think I was stolen so someone could sell me to another person?” Shaking her head, she continued, “I get how horrible it is but I have to tell you, there’s no way it could have been me. My mom followed the law to the letter. Even though we hid every time we saw a cop car, whenever she saw someone breaking the law, she’d find a pay phone and call in an anonymous tip. She turned people in for speeding, jaywalking, selling drugs. She never broke the law.” She stopped herself in time. She’d been about to share with him that they’d lived in shady places, so her mom had plenty to inform the police about. The cops had never known who she was; she’d always said she wanted to remain anonymous so people couldn’t retaliate. “There’s no way she’d have stolen a baby.”
His fingers dove through his hair. Sitting, he rested his elbows on his spread knees and clasped his hands. “Look, let me lay out everything I know and then we’ll talk about what you know. This sucks but there’s no doubt as to who you are. You saw the picture yourself.”
“Pffffft. It could have been doctored.”
He shook his head.
“It could mean I’m related but not kidnapped. Right?” Her eyes opened wide.
He really wanted to tell her yes.
“Who the hell are you?” The yelling came from outside. Bailey and Guy raced to the window. Guy carefully lifted the edge of the frayed curtain. Two men were at the lobby door. One was an older man with heavy lines etched into his face, seemingly in total contrast to the bulging muscles that strained against his tight t-shirt and blue jeans. He was obviously not a person one refused to cooperate with, and he did not look happy when the employee wouldn’t tell him anything. The angry man strolled away from the building and climbed into a truck, his head turning constantly, his eyes taking in everything.
It’s the same blue truck.
How the hell did he find us?
He watched until the man drove away. “Okay, grab your stuff. We have to go.” He turned to address Bailey, only to find she was already halfway out the door. “I didn’t mean that fast.” This was someone who was a little too comfortable with being on the move.
“Where?”
“That way.” He indicated where he’d parked the car.
She paused, looking around before sprinting across the parking lot and then the street. He ran to keep up. Halfway down the residential block, he pulled her down a back alley. Once they reached the vehicle, he unlocked it and climbed in, ignoring her glare and her thrust-out hand. Huffily, she climbed into the passenger seat.
“Going to tell me what that was about?”
He looked at her for a moment and realized he didn’t want to tell her anything. She’d been through a lot and he didn’t want to be the one to add to it. He wished he could tell her that whoever was after them was really after her. Somehow he was sure this was all connected to the black market ring and her kidnapping twenty-nine years before. Someone wanted her to remain missing.
“I think we should get moving, to wherever it is that you need to get to. I’m assuming it’s a place that should give us some answers?”
She shrugged, staring out the side window. “I need to go back to that café. I want to get some food for the road.”
There was something she wasn’t telling him but he was too preoccupied staring at every vehicle they encountered to drag it out of her. “Fine, I’ll drop you off there. Wait for me. Inside.”
Her head whipped around. “That guy was after us, wasn’t he?”
“Let’s just say I want to make sure he didn’t see us. Okay? So stay in the restaurant until I get there. Got it?”
“Right.”
Before he could answer, she climbed out. After he left her, he circled the block three times to ensure their unwanted company wasn’t around. Grabbing his phone, he hit speed dial.
“Graham. I need information and fast.” He quickly filled in his partner on the unfolding events. “I need to rent another vehicle now but not in either of our names. How long?”
“Give me ten minutes to hack in and put your paid reservation into their files. Okay? How’s an SUV sound?”
“Great. I’m thinking a 4x4 might come in handy. I need to talk to the sketch artist the Ontario Police Services use. I’m hoping he can do a drawing of my guy; then you can run it through the police database.”
“Got it. I’ll get him to call you right away. Where and when will you be able to look at an email, once he gets a draft done?”
“Unfortunately, she still hasn’t told me where we’re going. I’ll be in touch.” Looking out his window, he couldn’t help the awe-inspiring sight—the mountains, snow-capped and glistening in the sunlight. He wished they had time to enjoy it. “Cell reception might be an issue though. We’re headed west, which means we’re going into the mountains. I’ll call as soon as I can. Any information on those plates?”
“First vehicle was stolen three days ago from a car rental agency. No suspects yet. Interestingly, the truck was just reported stolen about an hour ago in Calgary. No idea when it was taken. The owner was away for several days. When he got home early this morning, it was gone.”
Guy swore. “Thanks, bud. I...” He didn’t know how to say thank you. This was very different than anything they’d ever been involved in before. Neither one of them had ever been the target.
“I know. Keep it upright.” It was Graham’s way of telling him to stay safe and don’t get into trouble he couldn’t get out of.
“I will,” he answered, but he was beginning to realize it was going to be easier said than done.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The office was small, nondescript. Two walls of glass, a large counter and a woman who looked like she wished she was anywhere else. As soon as her eyes met his, she pasted on a for
ced smile betrayed by the cold look in her eyes.
“Hi. What can I do for you today?”
“I’m here to pick up a vehicle for Knight’s Associates.”
She quickly punched information into the computer. “Yes, here it is. Uh, it’s been paid for but I need a password.” She looked up. “Usually we ask for ID.”
Guy shrugged. “Butler.” Graham loved the whole persona of an English butler—the accent, the formality. It was a long-standing joke between them.
He signed for the new vehicle, asking casually what was west of Jasper.
“West? BC,” she answered. “Only two ways to go—head south through Valemount or west through Prince George. Valemount is small; doubt you’d want to go there.”
He nodded as he headed toward the vehicle. He had a feeling Valemount was exactly where they were headed.
Flipping on the signal, he was about to pull into traffic when he saw the blue truck heading in the opposite direction. Though Guy wanted to get a good look at the driver, instinct prevailed and he slouched down and averted his face. As soon as it was clear, he headed to the café. He pulled up outside, scanning the area. Nothing stood out. Walking into the dimly lit restaurant, he looked for Bailey. Concerned, he approached the counter to ask if they’d seen her when he spotted her in a little alcove. The angle was such that he couldn’t see exactly what she was doing but she was sitting at a computer, intently studying the screen. There was no way he could look at it without her becoming aware of him first.
“Bailey. We have to go.”
At the sound of his voice, she jerked as though he’d cracked a whip. Her fingers quickly hit the keyboard, and by the time he reached her side, whatever she’d been reading was gone.
Not meeting his eyes, she said, “Oh yeah. I was just checking emails. I’ve been out of touch for a while. I didn’t have a chance to get any food for the road, though.”
He got the hint but he was reluctant to leave, and he was hesitant to tell her about their tail. Her guilty expression didn’t do anything to ease his suspicions. “I’ll get something but we’re leaving now.” He walked away but kept an eye on her. She pulled something out of the computer and stuffed it in her jeans pocket.
