Hidden (Nicole Jones #1)(60)

He nods his head slowly. ‘OK. What else do you need?’

‘Nothing.’

His eyebrows rise into his forehead and I hold up a hand. ‘No, really, Steve, I don’t need anything else.’ I don’t need the ride to the ferry, either, but it is the only way I know to get him to leave now. I have things to do, things that don’t concern him. I stand up. ‘I have to get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.’ I am anxious for him to leave. I’ve wasted too much time.

He reluctantly stands, too. ‘OK.’

I walk him to the door. ‘First ferry is—’

‘At eight-fifteen. I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.’ He lingers at the door. ‘You really have to—’

I put my finger to his lips. ‘I really have to.’ I can see in his eyes that he thinks if he helps me, maybe I will not disappear forever. I give him a little push out the door. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

I listen to his footsteps go down the stairs before I shut the door. I go over to the window and see his SUV out front. He emerges from the house and looks both ways before he gets into the Explorer. The engine starts. He glances up at the house, and I shrink back into the white lace curtains, hoping he didn’t see me. The SUV begins to move slowly down the street, until it goes around the corner and is out of sight.

I clean up the remnants of the lunch Steve brought, putting the trash back into the paper bag it came in and stuffing it in the can next to the desk.

I am stalling, but I need to make sure he is well gone before I venture outside.

I shove the backpack and laptop under the bed. I won’t need them for what I’m about to do, and they will be safer here, where no one but Steve knows I’ve been. If something happens to me, he can lead Frank Cooper here. They will find the train ticket I have printed out, along with all the cash and the passport and driver’s license for Amelie Renaud. They will find nothing on the laptop, because I’ve wiped it clean. Maybe, just maybe, Frank will find someone who can discover my secrets, but it will take a long time to break through.

I take another look around the room before I shrug on the cardigan I’ve borrowed from Jeanine and pull the baseball cap over my head. I slip through the door, locking it behind me.





THIRTY


I am headed on foot to that store next to Veronica’s gallery to get a duffel bag. I hope that the ball cap will keep anyone from recognizing me, at least right away. People here don’t really expect to see me walking, anyway. They are more used to seeing me on my bike.

I am feeling antsy because this is only the first part of what I have to do.

I don’t know how long it’s taken me to get to Old Harbor; I am walking with purpose. Some cars have passed me; I’ve nodded to people walking dogs, pushing strollers. It’s a beautiful day on the island, and everyone is doing normal things. I was normal until last week. What would I be doing if I were home, if I hadn’t been discovered? I might be riding my bike up to the North Light or sitting in my rocker on the front porch looking out over the water with a cup of tea. I’d be feeling happy, content with my life. I long for that feeling again.

I walk past Jeanine’s spa and then the Blue Dory Inn, where Ian and I met that day I first used my new laptop. It’s as though it was a lifetime ago. I circle around and end up at the National Hotel and then the small little strip of storefronts.

I don’t see any police cars, and I assume that Steve is right: they are distracted by Carmine’s body at the Bluffs, so I boldly walk into the shop as though I am not a fugitive. I spot the bags I’m looking for on a display to my right. I am careful to pick one that does not say ‘Block Island.’ It is a plain navy canvas with brown leather handles and seems very sturdy.

I bring it up to the cash register, and I recognize Lucille, Veronica’s friend. I give her a wide smile as I put the bag on the counter.

‘Going somewhere?’ she asks me with a wink.

She probably thinks I am going away with Ian for a weekend. Veronica has been spreading news of my love life.

I decide to play along. ‘Maybe,’ I say. ‘How have you been?’

‘Oh, same old, same old,’ Lucille says lightly. ‘You know about the body they found, right, at the Bluffs?’

This is what she’s been itching to talk about. She doesn’t care about me. She wants to gossip.

‘Yeah, I heard. Who is it?’

‘No one knows. Frank and his guys have been over there for hours and won’t tell anyone anything. Heard he was shot.’

‘How do you know that, if Frank won’t tell anyone anything?’ I have to ask.

Lucille gives me a sly smile. ‘My Cathleen is married to Reggie McCallum. He won’t even tell her anything.’ The smile disappears as she thinks about how that’s just not fair.

‘How much?’ I ask.

She looks distracted for a minute, then realizes I’m asking how much the duffel bag costs. ‘That’s a hundred and fifty plus tax.’

Things are pricey on the island, but I have anticipated it. I took enough cash out of my backpack before coming here, so I give her a few bills and she makes change for me. She begins to put the duffel into another bag, but I put up my hand.

‘That’s OK, I don’t need a bag,’ I say with a smile. It is taking all of my effort to act as though everything is normal.