Don't Fail Me Now(50)

“With New Mexico plates,” Tim says calmly. “We just came over from Santa Fe for the day.”

“Spring break!” Leah chirps with a big smile.

“I don’t want to go to Mexico!” Denny whines, but luckily his voice is muffled by my back.

“See, Daddy?” Natalie says, tugging on his arm. “I told you, it’s not them. They’re probably looking for three big black guys, anyway, not a couple of girls and a little kid.” This master stroke of racial profiling seems to finally pacify Baldy.

“Sorry to bother you,” he mumbles into his neck.

“Sorry to bother you,” I say icily.

As we walk as inconspicuously as possible back to the car, Tim tries to take my hand again, but I shrug him off. A few minutes ago I was almost falling for him, but now I can’t even look at him. He was supposed to keep this from happening. He promised it wouldn’t. And he has no idea how much I stand to lose now that it has.

? ? ?

“Well, f*ck,” I say once we’re back on the highway. I say it a few more times for good measure. For once I don’t care what Denny hears. He’ll probably hear a lot worse in his new foster home, anyway, which is where he’ll be going once the cops catch up with us. I’m so numb from shock and fear that I can barely feel the steering wheel under my fingers. I have to get off the road soon, or I might get us all killed.

“I thought you were taking care of your parents,” I say to Tim, the acid in my mouth sharpening my tongue.

“I didn’t think they’d go through with it,” he says.

“So you knew?” I feel betrayed in a way I wasn’t prepared for.

He looks at me helplessly. “I tried to stall last night, like you said, but the story just doesn’t hold. They saw right through it.”

“What exactly did you say?” I ask.

“I told them we were going to keep going.” He takes a deep breath. “And Dad told me that he was going to report us missing.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

“I was trying to find the right time,” he mumbles.

“Bullshit,” I snap. “You had plenty of time.”

“Well, would it really have helped?” he asks irritably, fiddling with the radio dial. A burst of deafening static fills the car.

“Yes,” I shout over the noise. “It! Would! Have! Helped!”

Tim lowers the volume. “What I don’t understand,” he says, “is why some random dude in Amarillo heard about us on his local radio station. I mean, how could anyone know we were anywhere near there? If we got spotted by a cop . . .”

“Then we’d already be in custody,” I finish.

“This might be a stupid question, but there’s no way Goldie has, like, a tracking device, right?”

“She can’t even charge a cell phone, so no. And yes, that is a stupid question.”

“Oh no,” Tim says, turning around. “Leah. Did you turn on your phone?”

“Just for a second,” she says. “When Denny went in Chuck E. Cheese, I got bored. I didn’t post anything, I swear!”

“You don’t have to post anything! Karen installed software that can remotely track your location!” Tim runs his palms over his face. “Shit, I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

I did! I want to scream, but I know the damage has already been done. “Throw it out the window,” I tell Leah. “Now.” Her eyes get wide, and I repeat myself, more forcefully.

“But it’s not even on!” she cries, her voice shrill and wobbly. I’m about to unleash a tirade of curses when the radio static gives way to a crisp female voice emerging from Goldie’s ancient speakers:

“. . . say both teens have blond hair and are approximately five feet eleven and five feet nine inches tall, respectively. They may be wearing school uniforms. If you see anyone matching this description traveling without adults, please call your local police precinct. After this brief break, stay tuned for an uninterrupted hour of golden oldies on this Flashback Friday—”

As an ad for a car dealership begins, I take the next exit and park on the shoulder of a sleepy rural road. After I kill the engine, the only sound is the incessant click, click, click of the ancient hazard lights, sending out a useless SOS into the darkness.

“Well, the good news,” I say hollowly, “is that they only care about finding you.”

“How would they know about you, though?” Tim finally asks. “How do they know that you’re—what you look like? Or the car?”

“The hotel,” I say. “Security footage.”

“Dammit.” Tim rubs his eyes. “We should have listened to you.”

“Too late now,” I say.

“So what do we do?” Leah asks.

“We wait for them to find us.”

“Are we in a chase?” Denny asks, not sure yet whether to be excited or alarmed.

“Who says they’ll find us?” Cass asks.

“If that guy knew the make of the car, the cops probably have the plates already,” I say, struggling to keep my voice steady.

“But if they’re going by Leah’s phone GPS, they think we’re in Oklahoma.”

“We’ve only gone a hundred fifty miles. And they must know we’re headed west. Every squad from here to LA probably got the memo.” Bile rises in my throat as I weigh our very few remaining options. If we ditch the car, we’re stranded. If we ditch Tim and Leah, they are—although probably not for long. For all I know Daddy Harper is already on his way.