Hidden (Nicole Jones #1)(33)

Steve does not notice that I have been sidetracked. ‘And he came here when he saw it.’

‘I didn’t write anything on the card. No return address. It was just a postcard. From here.’ And as I say this, I realize I have been underestimating everyone’s intelligence and overestimating mine. Because of that postcard, I risked everything and it looks as though I will lose everything.

Steve’s expression tells me he is thinking the same thing.

‘So he wouldn’t have found you without it?’

I don’t have to say anything. He knows the answer to that. I am not going to admit out loud how stupid I was.

‘Why have you been hiding from him?’

The questions just keep coming. I don’t know how long I can take it.

‘He thinks I owe him money.’ I sigh. ‘I owe him money.’

‘How much?’

I wonder if he’d believe me if I told him exactly how much. Sometimes the number shocks even me. And I’d been in control of it.

When he realizes I am not going to answer, he changes tacks. ‘Did you steal the money, Nicole? From him?’

He believes my silence confirms the answer.

I get up and start clearing the plates from the table. Steve helps me, but I can see he is thinking hard about the little bit I have given him. Together we clean up the kitchen, put away the food that we haven’t eaten. I crave another drink, but I can’t risk it. I will end up telling him more, and I’m not ready yet.

There is one thing I do say, though, when we are done.

‘I have to use your computer in the morning.’ I am not asking him. I am telling him, and it doesn’t get past him.

‘Why?’

‘I can’t tell you.’

‘You can’t use it unless you tell me, Nicole.’

‘It’s nothing illegal.’ Not yet.

‘Tell me.’ He leans against the counter, his arms folded across his chest. He is not my friend right now. He is a man who is angry that I have betrayed him all these years.

I can’t blame him. So I say, ‘I have to meet someone in a chat room.’

He mulls this over for a few seconds, then says, ‘You’re really good with computers.’ It’s stated as fact.

I nod.

‘A hacker?’

I nod again.

‘You can use the computer, but you can’t do anything illegal.’

‘I won’t. I just have to meet up with someone. He’s a friend.’ He might be my only friend after all this. But he is as much a ghost as I am.

‘What’s his name?’ Steve doesn’t trust me about anyone now.

‘Tracker.’

‘That’s not a real name.’

‘No.’

‘What’s his real name?’

I am tired of this. I can’t do it anymore. ‘I don’t know, Steve. I never knew. And he doesn’t know my name, either.’ Although as I say it, I realize he must know now. He wasn’t stupid, could figure out that my disappearance coincided with what he’d helped me with, connected the dots.

‘How can you live your life like that?’ he admonishes me.

‘I haven’t. Not for fifteen years.’

We stare each other down for a few minutes.

Finally, he says, ‘This Zeke Chapman or whatever his name is, he wants you to steal money, doesn’t he? He wants you to hack into somewhere and steal it and give it to him?’

‘He never exactly told me what he wanted me to do,’ I say. ‘But I think that’s probably right.’

‘You’re not going to do it, are you?’ He says it like it’s a dare.

I shake my head. ‘No. I left him there, at the Blue Dory, to show him I wouldn’t do it. And then later, well, when I got home …’ My voice trails off.

‘So why do you need to talk to this Tracker person?’

‘So I can make sure I can go back to my life and not be bothered again.’

Steve frowns, understandably confused. ‘How can you do that?’

‘It has nothing to do with you.’

‘But you’re going to use my computer.’

‘Just tomorrow morning. Then I’ll go home and leave you out of it.’

‘You can’t go home. He’s waiting for you. He’ll hurt you.’

‘He won’t hurt me, Steve.’ Although as I say it, I am not entirely sure.

‘What was done to your place – that was a violent act. He won’t stop until he gets what he thinks is owed to him.’ Steve unfolds his arms, and his expression changes slightly. ‘You’re not going home.’

‘But—’ I stop myself before I mention Carmine.

‘If I’m going to help you, you really need to tell me everything. Because I have to know what I’m getting myself into.’





EIGHTEEN


Steve is going to help me. I let that sink in for a few seconds. ‘Why?’ I finally ask. ‘Why are you going to help me?’

‘Because you’re my friend. Because you have kept me sane since Dotty died. Because without you, my life will be empty. Do I need to go on?’

I feel a rush of emotion, and the tears spill down my cheeks. He does not move toward me, just lets me cry. I put my hands over my face. Finally, I feel his hand on my shoulder, and I sink into him, my head against his chest, his beard tickling my forehead.