Hidden (Nicole Jones #1)(50)

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘I think he wants me to do the right thing. He wants you to do the right thing,’ Steve says. ‘He also knows that you can’t leave the island without anyone seeing you.’

I think about how he must have people watching at the ferry and the airport and the marinas. ‘I have to figure out how to get past him,’ I say. ‘I don’t want to leave any more than you want me to, but I guess I was stupid to think that I could stay here forever and no one would ever find me.’

‘I asked you something not long ago,’ Steve says, his voice cracking a little. He clears his throat and continues. ‘Marry me.’

‘Oh, Steve,’ is all I can think to say.

‘I’m serious. You’ve told me everything, I think, and a husband can’t testify against a wife. If we get married, I can protect you.’

He doesn’t know that I cannot be protected. Not at all. Not anymore.

‘Jeanine saw what I was doing earlier,’ I say.

‘She doesn’t really know, though. She didn’t understand what was going on.’

I feel bad about that, but it’s the best way. I remember the computer running the password scan. I wonder if it has finished, if the password to get through the firewall has been uncovered. Tracker had already found it, but I need it. One last time. For something I don’t want him involved in.

‘You didn’t tell me where you are,’ Steve says.

‘You can’t know.’

‘I won’t tell Frank.’

I know that he would rather die than give me up, but I can’t risk it.

‘Are you OK?’ he asks.

I look around the bike shop. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Call me in the morning. We can meet somewhere. I need to know you’re OK.’

‘I’m fine,’ I say again. But then I promise to call. I hang up the phone. I realize I am exhausted and I need to sit down, lay down for a little while and think about what I’m going to do next.

Pete has a couch and a small refrigerator in the back room. This room has no windows, so I turn on the lamp next to the couch and find a six-pack of beer and some crackers in the fridge. I want a shower in the worst way; I’ve been wearing the same jeans and T-shirt for two days now. I go into the bathroom, which is the size of a closet with just a toilet and a sink, and I rinse my face with cold water, blotting it dry with the hard paper towels from the dispenser.

I go back out to the couch and take a beer and some crackers. What I would give for a burger and onion rings at Club Soda.

I weigh my options, now that Frank Cooper knows.

I could call in an anonymous report about Carmine’s body and my bike at the Bluffs, and while the island’s law enforcement is distracted by that, I could go to the dock and hop on the next ferry to the mainland and disappear. It would be easier over there. More people, more cars, more ways to blend in. But I would need more there, too. I’d need a current driver’s license, a bank account, a credit card. Amelie Renaud won’t take me very far. I was foolish to think I could use her. That had been a desperate thought, and there is nothing more dangerous than desperation.

I run my fingers through my hair. I think about Steve’s offer. The one to marry me. For a brief second, I consider it. It would be easy, too, to do it. Not just so he couldn’t testify, but because then I would have a legitimate identity. I could get all of those things I need. But then I would have to leave him behind, breaking his heart in a way that would be even worse than when Dotty died.

No, I cannot do that to him.

I need Tracker. He is my connection to the outside world. Even though I know Steve will do anything for me, Tracker is still the only one I can turn to.

I feel as though I am too slow on the uptake. It’s not only my computer skills that are rusty, all of me is rusty. I thought I’d planned for this day, but it’s been so long that I forgot my plan included a fifteen-year-old driver’s license and passport. The more settled I got here the more complacent I became. I should have always been at the ready for survival off the island.

I can only hope that I have enough time.





TWENTY-SIX


I am so aware that I need to leave here before the sun comes up that I only manage a couple of hours of sleep. My head is spinning with what I need to do.

I need to get in touch with Tracker. I need a new driver’s license, a credit card, a passport. And I need that password.

I have my laptop, but there is no Wi-Fi here. I have to go back to the spa. I am not sure how I’m going to get in without Jeanine. I am sure that Frank Cooper is watching her as well, but maybe not right now. He knows I can’t leave the island in the middle of the night, so it doesn’t really matter where I am until morning.

I creep out to the counter and dial the familiar number.

‘W-who is it?’ I have awoken Jeanine from a deep sleep.

‘Jeanine,’ I whisper loudly. ‘It’s Nicole. Wake up.’

‘Nicole?’ She is still half asleep.

‘Yes, it’s Nicole. I need you.’

‘Nicole?’ Her voice is more alert now.

‘Yes. I need your help.’

‘What do you need? You know, Frank Cooper is looking for you.’

‘I know. Can you meet me at the spa?’