Chapter 12 #3
Cole flattened his palms on the cold Calacatta marble kitchen island and stared at Will’s back. The wind was tugging at Will’s hair and shirt in ways that shouldn’t have been that intriguing, and Cole hated how little he was interested in just gazing at him and enjoying the view.
He was too busy trying to figure out if Will had crossed him, or if someone else was watching or eavesdropping.
Cole took a few deep breaths and thought through the six and a half hours it had taken for them to get from Montpelier to Bar Harbor.
It had occurred to him several times that Will hadn’t used his phone.
Even during long stretches of silence, he hadn’t thumbed through it to pass the time.
In fact, the only time he’d brandished it at all had been when he’d whipped it out to take a photo of a lobster pound for some reason. Otherwise… no phone.
Cole supposed he could’ve used it in the restroom at that one gas station. And it could’ve been listening passively while Cole had driven.
But that didn’t explain how someone had also found the place he’d told Lilith about.
Unless…
Cold water trickled through Cole’s veins.
What if his phone was the problem? He was using a burner phone, but what if…
He rewound everything that had happened since they’d left New York. His device had never been out of his possession. It was also wrapped in so many layers of cybersecurity, even he couldn’t hack into it and add tracking software or something. And he’d tried.
It had to be something else. He flipped through every detail he could think of. Every step he’d taken. Every encounter they’d had with anyone.
And then…
Marcus was after them.
Marcus had sent Justin to meet Campeau instead of coming himself.
Things with Justin had turned physical.
After that, someone had known they were in Vermont, and now they “knew” they were in Larkinville or Strawberry Mansion.
So far, no one had made any inroads on the Bar Harbor property, and Cole had alarms and sensors all over the place.
If a moose farted within a mile of the fence line, he’d know about it.
So far, nothing.
So far.
He shifted his weight, wondering if maybe they weren’t as safe here as he’d thought they would be.
What if there was some kind of tracker on his phone, or on one of them, or…
Fuck. They couldn’t stay here. They needed to get rid of every stitch of clothing and every piece of electronics. Ditch the car. Ditch their—
His head whipped toward the jacket he’d left draped over a chair.
Heart thumping, he crossed the room and dug into a pocket. When he found his passport, he yanked it free and thumbed through each page. Then he carefully felt around on the cover, and—
His stomach clenched so violently, he was surprised he didn’t hear it.
He returned to the kitchen, pulled a pair of scissors from the knife block, and started cutting. And sure enough, inside the blue cover of his passport, he found a hair-thin microchip.
“Holy shit,” he whispered. It had been sealed beneath what looked like a passport page, but adhered to the inside cover. It didn’t explain how his phone was being tracked—how someone had known about his texts to Lilith—but it did mean they had bigger and more immediate problems.
His first instinct was to smash the circuit, but he froze. Maybe…
Yes. Good idea.
He bolted to the sliding glass door, threw it open, and said, “Give me your passport.”
“My—” Will blinked. “What? Which one?”
“All of them. That’s how we’re being tracked. Which means someone’s probably on their way here right the fuck now, and we need to go.”
“Uh. Okay.” Will pushed himself off the railing and headed back inside. “How are they tracking us?”
“I found a chip in mine. Yours probably has one too, and we don’t have time to check.” He gestured dismissively as they hurried toward the stairs. “I have no idea how anyone got to my passport, and they’ve probably tapped our phones, too, but…”
They were halfway up when Will said, “Montreal. The hotel.”
Cole glanced back. “Huh?”
“When we went to meet Marcus, we left our stuff at the hotel. Including our passports.”
“So you think the maids fucked with them?”
“No, but we left a certain French Canadian with questionable fetishes in the room.”
Cole nearly stumbled. Fuck. “Campeau? But he was tied. And our passports were in the safe.”
“Uh-huh. And would you put it past that asshole to get someone in there who could crack a safe? Or be able to do it himself?”
That was a thought. Or maybe—
“Fucking hell. That dickhead told Marcus where we were staying.” Cole swore as he cleared the top step. “I can’t believe we left… Fuck.”
That was that, though, so they quickly gathered their things and hurried back downstairs.
“Damn it,” Will whined. “I was looking forward to sleeping in a mansion. Now we’re going to end up in a shitty little motel, aren’t we?”
Cole managed a laugh at that on the way to the garage. “Probably, yeah.” He paused. “Okay, I have an idea.” He handed the rental car’s keys to Will along with his mutilated passport. “You drive the rental and follow me.”
“Follow—what?”
“Just do it.”
Will just did it. He got into the rental car, and after Cole had pulled the Range Rover out of the garage, he followed him down the driveway.
They drove across Mount Desert Island and down some backroads until Cole found a remote and empty beach.
He gestured for Will to park and then get in the Range Rover.
“Leave the passports in the car,” he ordered. “And our burners.”
Will looked dubious but seemed to understand the urgency of the situation. He left the passports and phones on the passenger seat, then got into the Range Rover. As he buckled his seat belt, he asked, “Okay, so what now? We’re going to take off in your parents’ super conspicuous luxury SUV?”
“No.” Cole pulled out of the parking lot and tore back the way they came. “We’re just taking this to the airport.”
“The air—uh, what?” Will gestured wildly over his shoulder. “Did you miss the part where you told me to leave our passports behind?”
“We don’t need them.”
Will stared at him, clearly expecting an answer.
Cole glanced at him before facing the road. As he pulled onto a main road, he adopted a speed that was inconspicuous and casual; no point in getting cop’s attention. Keeping his voice even, he asked, “Do you trust me?”
“I…” Will hesitated. “I mean, you did pull me in from the edge in Montreal, so…”
“So do you trust me to get both of us out of this situation?”
Another moment of hesitation. “I don’t have much choice, do I?”
“Probably not.” Cole glanced at him again, hoping his expression conveyed his sincerity and earnestness. “This is going to be risky, but if you follow me and don’t ask questions, I think I can get us out safely.”
Will gulped. “I don’t have any other ideas, so…” He motioned at the road ahead of them. “Lead the way.”
Cole did, and neither spoke as he drove them off Mount Desert Island.
That is until a chain-link fence with a razor wire top came into view, as did the long, flat strip of pavement on the other end. Will straightened. When they got closer, he must’ve seen the sign:
Hancock County-Bar Harbor Airport.
“Wait,” he said. “Are you—were you serious about the airport?”
“Completely.” Cole followed the fence around to the entrance.
“You… You do know I crashed the one time I flew, right?”
Cole chuckled. “I do, yes.”
“Right. I mean, okay, I ran out of fuel, but also…” Will flailed his hand. “I don’t actually know how to land, you know?”
“That’s okay. I do.”