A String of Beads (Jane Whitefield, #8)(41)

Jane had cooked for her husband, Carey, for seven years already, and every evening after dinner, she had said it quietly to herself: “Nia:wen.” She was usually the only one who said it, alone in the kitchen, and although her husband was included among all the things she was giving thanks for, he seldom heard her say it. But she had just said it aloud in front of Jimmy, because it was the normal thing for two Seneca people to do.

They cleared the table and went to work loading the dishwasher and cleaning the kitchen area. Jimmy said, “I’ll bet you’re getting ready to leave for home.”

“You’d lose,” she said.

“Why? You’ve got me pretty well set up here—a comfortable long-term hotel, a car, new clothes, and everything. Nobody knows I’m here. I’ll pay you back for all that stuff as soon as I can, by the way. But I can drive you to the airport in about half an hour, and you could be in Buffalo an hour or two after that.”

“I’m not ready to leave,” she said. “You would have to show your face whenever you bought groceries, went to a restaurant, or answered the door. And things happen. If you made a driving mistake or somebody else did, you’d have to show your license and registration, and maybe fill out a police report.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he said. “Believe me, I’m delighted that you’re around. I just thought it was getting to be too much to ask. In fact, it was too much a while ago.”

“Until I figure out who’s after you, the best thing we can do is keep you out of sight. Be patient.”

“You sound as though you heard something bad from Ellen Dickerson that you don’t want to tell me.”

“No,” she said. “She’s heard nothing new. But we don’t need anything new. From the beginning, it’s seemed to me that there’s something odd that we aren’t understanding. We have one man who was willing to go to the police and lie about selling you the weapon in a homicide. Why would he be willing to take that risk? And now there are some who were getting themselves sent to jail to wait for you—who are they? The only plan they could have is to kill you. I think we need to be prepared to hold out for a while before we walk into the middle of that.”

“What does the delay do for us?”

“The same thing staying ahead of the dogs does for a rabbit. He gets to stay alive for another day.”

The next day Jane went out again, and returned just before noon with several more shopping bags. After she put away the food she’d bought, there were still several others.

“What’s that?” asked Jimmy.

“I’m going to teach you more about being hard to find. This is your next lesson. People looking for fugitives do it with photographs and descriptions and lists of habits. So change everything about yourself that you can change.” She took out a box with a picture of a beautiful woman flipping her shiny light brown hair.

“Hair dye?”

“Afraid so,” Jane said. “I picked a shade that’s not ridiculously light, but it’s lighter than your hair or mine. Our black hair is on one end of the spectrum, and platinum blond is on the other. If you’re trying to blend into the crowd, the place you want to be is the middle. This is something I’ve had lots of runners do, because it’s easy. The best way to use dye is to do it right away, so you don’t meet people while your hair is black and then switch to light brown. It makes them wonder about you, and wondering is the worst response you’re likely to get. They’ll think about you and talk about you.” She set the box aside. “Whether you do it or not is up to you. You have time to think about it, and if you want to, I can apply it for you. I’m pretty good.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m persuaded.”

“While we’re at it, I should warn you that anytime you use something like hair dye, make sure that there’s nothing left of the packaging, or the chemicals, or the receipt from the store. I’ve already bought the coloring this time and paid for it in cash, so you don’t have to worry about the security cameras in the store. But you don’t want to leave anything that will tip off the chasers about changes to your appearance.”

The next thing she brought out was a pair of glasses. “Try these on.”

“My eyes are two of the few things I have that are perfect.” He took the glasses.

“As you can see, the lenses are just clear plastic. I also got aviator sunglasses and photosensitive glasses that darken in sunlight, and some with a dark brown tint. Sunglasses are a good thing to wear whenever you’re outdoors.”

He put on the glasses, went to the bathroom mirror, and studied himself, turning his head from side to side. “It’s a different feeling.”

“It’s better than I’d hoped,” said Jane. “You look good, but what’s especially good is you don’t look like you.”

“I guess I can get used to them.” He took them off and set them on the coffee table.

“That’s the right idea,” Jane said. “Everything you can change should be changed. If you were fat, I’d try to get you to lose weight. If you were thin, I’d try to get you into body building. You’re muscular, so I’m weaning you away from T-shirts and into business casual clothes. If you were illiterate I’d try to get you to carry a book with you. These mechanical changes are easy and they’re quick. But they’re only the start.”