Hidden (Nicole Jones #1)(46)

I didn’t know any of this until the accounts of my father’s arrest and trial came to light in the papers and on TV. They’d found an old picture of me, cropped it into an unattractive mug shot. If anyone here had seen the photo, no one had ever made the connection. I was only a small part of the story anyway, even with my mysterious disappearance, because my father stealing from celebrities and billionaires was too juicy and far more interesting to the journalists than trying to decipher how I managed my crime.

Ian must have told Tony it was all me, otherwise he wouldn’t have survived Tony’s wrath. A bubble of anger rises in my chest. Any empathy I might have had for Ian dissipates as I think about how it seems he is now working for Tony DeMarco, how he has no problem using me.

‘You’re a computer hacker.’ Jeanine states the obvious, but her eyes are wide with the revelation. I am glad, however, with the distraction. I can see from the look on Steve’s face that he has done his homework. That he has been busy on Google and he knows all about me, about what I did.

‘I haven’t done this for a long time,’ I tell Jeanine, unwilling to look at Steve.

‘So why now? This old boyfriend – Ian, right? – was he a hacker, too?’

‘No.’

‘So why was he here, really? What’s going on?’

‘I owe him some money.’ I wish it were that simple.

‘Is that why he broke into your house? Did he think you had it there?’

‘I don’t really know,’ I say, still unwilling to tell them about Carmine. ‘I think it’s more of a control thing.’

She studies my face, and I allow myself to look her in the eye for the first time. ‘I loved him,’ I say.

She gives me a sad smile and reaches over, brushing a curl off my forehead. ‘I know.’

‘Nicole, what does this mean?’ Steve interrupts, indicating the computer screens. I know what he is asking.

I turn the question over and over in my head, not willing to face the answer. Because I know what it has to be.

‘It means I have to leave.’





TWENTY-FOUR


‘Leave?’ Jeanine frowns. ‘Leave, where?’

‘Leave the island.’ As I say the words, my heart sinks. I think about flying along the familiar roads on my bike, the majestic Bluffs, Rodman’s Hollow, Friday nights at Club Soda with Steve, yoga and hot stones with Jeanine. Painting on the beach, pinks and reds mixing with purples and blues, the puffy white clouds winking on the horizon over the ferry that brings the tourists who have helped me survive all these years.

It is though I am dying and my entire life passes before my eyes.

‘I can take you over,’ Steve says simply.

Jeanine turns on him, her eyes dark with anger. ‘What is wrong with you? You’ll take her? Take her off the island? This is her home.’ She swings around to face me again. ‘You’re going to let him win? You’re going to let him run you off?’

She does not even realize that she knows when I say I have to leave, that I mean I have to leave for good. I am not merely going to go to the mainland to shop for a big screen TV or go to a Red Sox game. I am going to take the ferry and disappear into the landscape, never coming back. I can never come back. Because, as I suspect, Frank Cooper knows now who I am, too, and I have no hope.

My life is slipping away with every second.

I glance at the laptops on the table. They were always my home, but I found a way without them. Yet I am back where I started. The last fifteen years don’t matter. I will always be on the run. I have just been fooling myself.

I think again about the passport. And those other things I’ve kept hidden.

‘I need to go my house,’ I say.

Jeanine gives me a triumphant smile. She thinks that I am going to stay. I let her think that.

I look at the computer screens. They are still searching for the password that Tracker has found. Something tickles the back of my brain. ‘Can I keep this going here?’ I ask Jeanine. This is yet another clue that maybe I’m not leaving, and she nods enthusiastically.

‘Is there anything I need to do?’

I shake my head. ‘No. Just leave it be.’ I close down the other laptop and stuff it into the backpack. ‘I’ll just take this one for now.’

‘Do you need a ride?’ Steve has his keys out, he’s flipping them around and around. It is the only annoying habit he has.

‘No. I’ve got one of Pete’s mopeds. I’m good.’ I lean over and give Jeanine a quick hug. ‘See you later.’

Her arms wrap around me, and I feel her warmth. A sadness rushes through me. I pull away before I begin to cry.

‘I’ll follow you,’ Steve says, and I don’t even try to talk him out of it. He is determined. I can see it in his face.

It is starting to get dark outside. My stomach growls. Jeanine’s salad was not enough. I am tempted to ask Steve if he wants to go to Club Soda for a hamburger and onion rings, but I push the craving aside and climb onto the moped.

‘You know, Frank does want to see you,’ Steve says as I put on the helmet. I notice that although he has promised Frank that he’ll tell him when he’s found me, he isn’t exactly running over to the police station. I am grateful for that.

‘After,’ I say simply and start up the engine. I am already down the road before Steve gets into his SUV.