Hidden (Nicole Jones #1)(56)

I’ve missed you, too. But he is gone before I hit return, so he doesn’t see my sentiment.

I log out of the chat room and sit back, staring at the computer screen, where my face stares back at me. The face that will be on my new documents. What does Tracker really think about me? He says that I look better than I used to, but what does that really mean? I find myself fantasizing about him, that he might be the person I meet in Chinatown. He knows when I will be there; he knows what I look like. Maybe he will want to meet me as much as I’ve wanted to meet him and he will make it happen.

I finish the last of my coffee and push the daydream out of my head. I can’t get distracted.

I need twenty thousand dollars. I hop off the stool and stoop down, opening the backpack. Carefully, I take the stacks of bills out and count them. I am just short. I could use Amelie’s credit card number to get a cash advance, transfer it to an account.

I have been lying to Ian. There is still an account. At least I think so. But I am afraid to try to use it or even to set another one up. It feels too risky. There is only one other solution.

I have to go back to the house and get what I left behind. There is at least this much left there. I stuff the bills back into the backpack. I know I should just leave.

But I procrastinate. The longer I stay here, alone, without anyone knowing where I am the safer I am. The safer Steve and Jeanine are. I think about those two men. Are they Carmine’s replacements? Have they done something to Ian, something that made him tell them where I was?

From Jeanine’s front window, I can see the water. I stand, drinking in the scenery, hoping to imprint it so firmly in my memory that I never forget it.

When I turn back, I know it’s time.

I call Steve.

‘Jeanine?’ He knows her number.

‘It’s not Jeanine. It’s me. I’m at her house.’

‘Nicole? What are you doing there?’

‘I need you do to something. Jeanine’s bike is in the brush near the Painted Rock on Snake Hollow. Can you go pick it up and bring it back to the spa?’

‘Why are you at Jeanine’s and why is her bike there?’ Steve’s tone is wary.

‘I ran into Ian.’ I hear him take a breath, but I don’t give him time to say anything. ‘I was supposed to meet him, but two men came instead. I didn’t like the look of them, so I took off down to Vail Beach.’

‘How did you end up at Jeanine’s?’

‘I ran along the beach up to Rodman’s Hollow.’

He gives a short snort. ‘Of course you did.’

‘I didn’t know what else to do.’

‘OK, fine. You should have called me.’ He pauses. ‘You know, Frank’s got Reggie watching my house.’

‘I figured. Do you think he’ll follow you?’

‘Maybe. But I can figure out a way to ditch him. Can I pick you up and take you somewhere?’

‘No, I’m all set. I’ll call you later.’ I hang up, and before he can call back, I dial another number. This time for a taxi. There are only a couple of drivers I haven’t had much contact with over the years, and I make sure that the one I call is one of them.

I wash and dry my dishes and put them away. I go upstairs to Jeanine’s room and find a pair of yoga pants, a white T-shirt, a blue cotton sweater and a pair of socks. Things that I will easily fit into. I take them downstairs and squeeze them into the backpack. I sit at the island and wait. It seems like forever until I hear the honk out front, and as I am about to let myself out the back, I see a baseball cap with the Red Sox logo on it hanging on the back of a chair. I slip it over my head and let myself out, locking the door behind me and putting the key back where I found it under the pot. I turn around the corner of the house and climb into the waiting taxi. I tell the driver to take me to Hydrangea House on Corn Neck Road, a small bed and breakfast. He doesn’t seem to recognize me, and I am relieved.

I also don’t know the owner of Hydrangea House, which is why I have chosen it. Lillian is new to the island and does not bat an eye when I check in for one night. And she does not seem to think it’s odd that I am paying with cash. She shows me to a room with big windows, the sun casting a bright light across the wooden floors. The bed is covered with an old-fashioned white bedspread and plump pillows. Clean towels are piled at the end. I tell her I’d like to take a shower, and she directs me to the bathroom down the hall, not seeming curious that I am dragging a heavy backpack with me and no other luggage at eight-thirty in the morning.

The shower feels good as I wash away the rigorous run along the beach. Jeanine’s clothes carry a faint scent of strawberry, and for a second I am overwhelmed with sadness, but then I push through it. I have no time for sentiment.

Hydrangea House has free Wi-Fi. I sit cross-legged on the bed and open the laptop. As it boots up, I pick up the phone by the side of the bed and dial the spa. Jeanine comes to the phone immediately.

‘Nicole? Where are you? Steve dropped off my bike. Told me you had to ditch it and run along the beach and you were at my house. He said he went by my house, but you were gone. Where are you?’ Her words run together; she does not take a breath until she is done.

I should have known Steve would go to her house, which is why I’m glad I got out of there when I did.

‘I’m safe,’ I say. ‘You can’t know where I am right now. I’m worried that you and Steve are being watched. Just do what you normally do and I’ll be in touch.’