Chapter 19
Kaelee
THE DAY BEFORE THANKSGIVING
Her family could torch everything Kaelee had built. Her friends. Her career. Her future. And whatever is happening with Greta. The smartest move was to break her lease and get out of DC, start over somewhere new.
Maybe I could get a fake identity.
But Kaelee had good friends and the start of a dream career, and she almost had a third academic degree. She didn’t want to run.
Today she had gone to the gym for two hours.
Free weights and cardio usually helped Kaelee feel in control, kept the anxiety at bay, and even decreased her libido.
Today, all it had done was take the edge off.
Somehow even grocery shopping made her think of Greta.
Naked on her table. Making lunch naked. Kaelee needed to find a casual connection.
Less time thinking of Greta. Less time texting Greta.
They weren’t going to end up finding a way to be … anything, really.
I need to move on.
I can’t be what she needs.
I won’t put her at risk.
Kaelee grabbed ten yams, brown sugar, too many apples, and some candied pecans to make her contribution to tomorrow’s group Thanksgiving meal.
Cherie was making potatoes and some sort of casserole.
Evander was on turkey duty. Another grad student, Malachi, and his two partners were doing pies.
Someone else had rolls or bread. The holiday was too short for a lot of broke-ass grad students to go home, and others, like her, had no home to go to.
So they all made a group meal. This was her second one, but it was apparently an ongoing tradition.
Most of the group called it Friendsgiving or Carbs-giving, although Evander had declared it Cal-Free Day with a group text that any food items consumed that day with friends were calorie-free, a claim Kaelee countered with an offer to organize a group run for anyone not gullible enough to believe his magical declaration.
This part of life, friends unconnected to publishing or her past, was the most stable part of Kaelee’s life.
That was why she was still pursuing a PhD, not because she necessarily wanted a future in academia but because she liked having her ragtag family of students just a little while longer.
She had enough credits—and two full novels she could submit as her thesis.
The MFA only included one, so she could submit that, check what classes she needed—if any—and finish her degree. That would free her.
In case I really do need to run.
Absently, as she waited in the grocery store checkout line, she texted Cherie a note that said, My life is better because I know you.
Cherie called a minute later. “Are you dying?”
“What?” Kaelee opened her bags and started to scan her groceries one-handed.
“That was a goodbye-flavored text if I ever saw one,” Cherie pointed out. “You dying? Leaving town? What’s happening?”
Kaelee forced a laugh. “You’re so much sometimes. I was emotional. Friendsgiving meal. My book coming out. Realizing my classwork for the degree is done.” Kaelee balanced her mobile on her shoulder as she weighed the yams and continued to check out. “I’m glad to know you, so I thought I’d say it.”
“Well, friends stay in touch even after degrees. You hear me? You aren’t leaving me.
” Cherie didn’t have to be in front of her for Kaelee to know her right hand was in the air shaking and pointing as if they were face-to-face.
Kaelee recognized the tone well enough to visualize the gestures that went with it.
“Not leaving you right now, Cher.” Kaelee finished ringing up, paid, and carried her bags to the car. A large manila envelope waited under her wipers. Her old name was scrawled across it.
“Are you still there?” Cherie’s voice felt like an anchor, something to clutch as panic threatened to rise and choke Kaelee.
Trying to sound calm, Kaelee said, “Hey, since I have you now … I hate to do this, but I can’t make it to dinner tomorrow. I need to go out of town for the weekend. Please don’t be mad at me!”
“Seriously?”
“Uh-huh. A work thing.”
“On Thanksgiving?”
After scanning the parking lot for anyone suspicious and seeing no one, Kaelee looked back at the envelope. Her old name, Sabrina, was scrawled there in familiar handwriting. Kaelee hadn’t seen her mother’s elegant, swooping script in years, but she knew it instantly.
Is someone in a car watching me? Kaelee’s gaze swept over the parking lot, looking for anyone standing near enough to grab her.
“Kaelee?” Cherie’s voice tugged her attention for a moment. “You still there? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry. Got to go. I need to go … away. I’m leaving for the weekend.
I’ll let you know when I’m back, sorry about the yams.” As she spoke, Kaelee pivoted, looking at the nearest cars and feeling grateful that it was broad daylight.
She couldn’t decide if she was more at risk opening her car door or standing there.
She walked to the trunk, put the groceries in, and then looked around again.
She looked inside the car—front and back seats.
Nothing. Just that thick envelope pinned under her wipers. Kaelee grabbed it as if it were hiding a copperhead about to bite her. She wished she could toss it away just as quickly as a snake’s strike. Nothing they sent could be good.
How did they find me?
Why are they doing this?
What’s in it? What do I need to know? Do I?
With the envelope still in hand, Kaelee got into her car, heart pounding in her ears.
Even though all the car doors were locked, she started to shake.
Small trembles turned into larger ones as she looked around.
The desire to open the envelope warred with the fear of what horrible things it hid.
Feeling it through the envelope made clear it was papers; she could feel binder clips and staples inside.
She tossed it on the passenger seat and connected her phone to the car.
Kaelee wasn’t sure where she wanted to go or what she should do.
Leaving an envelope on a car wasn’t likely to be considered harassment or any other legally actionable thing, and the truth was that even if it were actionable, she didn’t want to get into a legal battle with that man or with his fleet of slick liars.
She wanted to use her trust and her book money to live her life, not fight her ghosts.
“Why? Why are you fuckers contacting me?” Kaelee shifted into gear and drove, pulling into the already heavy traffic.
The nation’s capital and a holiday weekend made for a bad mix.
Even if she had somewhere she wanted to be, Kaelee wasn’t sure she’d want to face the flight backups in Dulles or Reagan National; she certainly wouldn’t want to be on the I-95 or the Beltway in a few hours.
The surface streets were already busy, but not yet stop and roll.
As she drove, Kaelee turned randomly, watching her rearview mirror and wondering if she was being tailed.
She couldn’t keep eyes on her mirrors and drive safely.
There were always so many nondescript black sedans in the District that she couldn’t say if they were the same or different cars.
All she knew for certain was she didn’t want to go home in case she was being followed.
If they can find my car in a grocery store parking lot, they already know where I live, logic insisted.
Which means they can show up at my door, fear added.
The thought of finding her parents at her door made Kaelee’s chest hurt.
She steered away from her address. The image of barricading herself inside threatened to overwhelm her tenuous grasp on control. She wasn’t going to make it easy for them to talk to her face-to-face.
She couldn’t crash Toni and Addie’s holiday, or even say for sure if they were home.
Addie’s family lived in California, where the show filmed, too, so the couple crossed back and forth across the nation.
Not with them. Not on a holiday. She couldn’t let the Alden selfishness ruin her friends’ holidays either.
Hotels were safer than houses in many ways.
Room service, anonymity, crowds of witnesses; a hotel would fix this weekend’s crisis.
For the big picture, she didn’t know yet.
Without thinking it through, she hit Greta’s number.
Kaelee didn’t want to think about why she felt her tension decrease at the sound of Greta’s voice a moment later. “Hey! How are your holiday cooking plans going?”
“Decided to bail on this city and drive north,” Kaelee said. “I’m thinking either hotel and takeout or … I don’t even know. I’m not staying here, though.”
“Oh … Are you okay?”
“Honestly? Not really.” Kaelee turned again on a random road, steered into a parking lot, and parked in a vast open space where she could see if any cars or people on foot approached her.
She was reasonably sure no one was currently following her.
Thoughts of trackers on her car made her debate whether she ought to take the train or even fly to wherever she was going, but right then being without a car sounded a lot like being trapped.
Rental car. That’s the best plan.
“Talk to me?” Greta asked softly after a long, quiet moment.
“There was an envelope on my car from my family.” Kaelee glanced at it in the passenger seat.
She didn’t feel ready to open it. She needed to see what bullshit it held, but the thought of doing that filled her with dread.
She told Greta as much and then added, “I want to run. I know it’s just an envelope, but I haven’t heard from them in years and now this is twice. ”
“Running is better than getting drunk. That’s progress,” Greta said. “Do you need to stop at your apartment before you head out for the weekend?”