Chapter 26
Audrey had left work thirty minutes early. She told Jane that she had an appointment. The girl just shrugged and waved her
off. Now Jane was stupid. People thought Audrey was dumb? Hardly! Audrey had smarts where it counted.
When she got in her car, she bit her lip and hoped that leaving early wasn’t going to make her look guilty. No, of course
not, she wasn’t a suspect. She didn’t have a good feeling about all this, especially talking to the FBI twice in two days.
Especially after they showed her the photo. But if they thought it was her, they would have arrested her, right? Or asked
her is this you?
It was a bad photo, didn’t show her face. No one would be able to identify her from it.
Well, almost no one, but she had taken care of that one little problem. She hoped Alena passed out before she talked to the
FBI again . . . but honestly, what did it matter? It wasn’t like a uniform in the locker room that was accessible to everyone
on the property was going to point a finger at her.
But she needed to buy some time, and getting Alena out of the picture for a day would buy her that time. Enough time to get her stuff, kill the two agents, and run away with Garrett. A day, that’s all she needed.
Audrey was a little concerned that the hunky black FBI agent had brought in the woman with the sharp eyes. Agent Wagner. She’d
barely said a word, just watched her, asked a couple questions, maybe to try and throw her off. It was unnerving and creepy, as if they knew something she
didn’t.
She hated when people knew more than she did. It made her feel dumb, and she was not dumb.
Audrey went to her car and immediately logged in to the factory cameras. She needed to see where they were and what they were
doing.
The units in the control room were still out, but she had a couple angles that showed the flooded factory floor. The woman,
Kara, lay on a conveyor belt, unmoving. Was she dead? That would make Audrey’s life so much easier. The man was walking around the perimeter, clearly looking for a way out. Why hadn’t he just opened the door and
been done with it? She would just leave their bodies there, no need to dump them and reset the factory for the next couple,
because she and Garrett were done with these games.
They would come up with something new, something better.
Maybe by the time she got up there—it was a three-hour drive—the FBI agent will have walked through the door and been crushed
to death.
She reached under her seat just to make sure her gun was still there. She didn’t like guns; they were crude and not at all
fun. What was the thrill of shooting someone? It was almost unfair.
But right now, she really didn’t have a choice. For Garrett, she would take care of this. For Garrett, she would do anything.
She loved him, and more importantly, he loved her.
Garrett was right—when this was done, they would have to bail completely. She’d pick him up at the hotel in Jacksonville and they’d head north. Dump the car, get a new one. They had enough money to lie low in New York City with identities she’d already bought them.
She had enough money to do anything she wanted. Garrett thought she’d just done well with their honey traps, but he didn’t know
the half of it.
She might tell him. Or not. A girl had to have her secrets, right?
She liked reinventing herself. She’d done it before when she became Audrey Reid. Well, first she was Audrey Dolan—she had
to buy that identity so Garrett wouldn’t be suspicious. That’s who he thought she was. But Audrey Reid was her married name,
legally.
Now she and Garrett could live out in the open as a married couple under completely different names. Names were nothing, just
labels. They’d be Rhett and Annabelle Dubois. She already had the identifications. Their five-year anniversary was coming
up. No more honey traps, no more flirting with old women. They would be normal. And when they started running low on funds,
they could plan a few carefully designed cons along the way to ensure they could support themselves. If she had to, she’d
seduce some rich asshole and rob him blind, like she used to.
Those really were the good old days.
Audrey arrived at her house twenty minutes later. She was antsy, and she always got antsy when something was wrong. She trusted
her instincts. They had saved her many times—in who she targeted, what she asked for, how far she could push. Her instincts
had never failed her, so now she ran through the house grabbing what she really needed: money and her fake IDs. She packed
a small suitcase with her essentials, just in case she couldn’t come back. But she could buy anything she wanted.
It wasn’t like money was a problem.
Mostly, she needed to leave her Honda Civic behind. It was registered to Hope Davidson, and if the FBI were suspicious of Hope, they might start looking for her car.
She loved her house, but she loved Garrett more. She had the important things—cash and the new Dubois identities for her and
Garrett. Because she was smart, and she thought of everything. Once things had escalated with Emily and her dickless husband Josh, she’d made sure they had an escape plan.
Fifteen minutes, in and out. After she killed the two agents, she’d find a way to sneak Garrett out of the hotel and disappear,
all before dark.
Oh, and kill the lawyer. He was always going to die for treating her like dog shit. What to do with his wife and kid . . .
she didn’t know. She’d hid the key to the cage in the house, so she could call Lily Graves and tell her where it was, or she
could just let the woman figure it out herself. If she could figure it out in time. One thing Garrett had taught Audrey over the seven years they had been together was to always
have a backup plan. Audrey took that lesson to heart.
They should have killed Franklin Graves as soon as Garrett was free. She’d been thinking they might need the lawyer for something
else, but truthfully, he was now a liability.
She pulled the van out of the garage. It wasn’t registered to Hope Davidson, because Audrey wasn’t an idiot. No one knew she
had the van, except Garrett. Once she completed all her tasks, she would get rid of this van for another vehicle, and she
knew exactly where to get one.
As she pulled onto I-95 heading north, she saw the sign that said Jacksonville, 57 miles.
Maybe she should grab Garrett on her way to Georgia.
She liked that idea.
She really liked that idea. She’d much rather have Garrett with her now, because she didn’t want to return to Florida. Go to the factory, take care of business, then disappear. She had a couple places they could stay, watch the news, make plans.
She was thirty minutes away when she called the hotel on her prepaid phone and asked to be connected to room 513.
Garrett answered on the second ring. Hearing his voice filled her heart.
“Hello?”
“Hey, baby,” she cooed.
“You shouldn’t be calling me here.” Did he sound angry?
“Are you mad?” she asked.
“No. But it’s too risky.”
“The lawyer said they didn’t get a warrant to wiretap you, so we’re good.”
“Where are you?” He sighed, and her brain registered annoyance. He was annoyed? With her? She had to be wrong.
“Just left my house heading to you know where. But I’ll be going through Jacksonville in thirty minutes. Let me pick you up,
we’ll take care of the problem together, then just disappear.”
“The cops are still out front.”
“You can sneak out. Please, honey, I’m worried.”
“I’m fine here. Take care of the problem and come back tonight, okay? When it’s dark, I have a way we can slip out of the
hotel unnoticed.”
“I need to get rid of the van.”
“How are you going to get back?”
She frowned. “I’ll figure it out.”
“It’s a two-hour drive from Jacksonville. You can’t Uber it, an Uber driver will remember you!”
“I said I’ll figure it out!” She was on the verge of tears. He sounded angry with her, and she hated when he got mad at her.
It was always because he thought she did something dumb, and she was not dumb.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice calm and conciliatory. “I didn’t mean to sound mad. I’m worried. I can’t have anything happen to you, baby. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she said. “I’ll drive to the boat, then take the boat out and down the coast. I’ll be back in Jacksonville
by sunset. No one can trace it to us, and I’ll leave it at an empty pier on the St. Johns River. Then I’ll take an Uber to
the hotel.”
“Someone will call it in.”
“So? We’re going to be leaving, right?”
“Like I said, I have an idea, but we have to be careful.”
“Maybe you can meet me at the dock tonight,” she said.
“Babe, I can’t leave right now. It has to be after midnight.” He paused. “You know, maybe you shouldn’t come back tonight.
I can slip out easier on my own.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“It’s for your own protection, Audrey. We need to be extra cautious right now. You do what you need to do, and don’t call
me again, just in case they’re listening in.”
“They can’t, not without a warrant, and Franklin is on top of it—or you know what.” That’s why she had kept Franklin alive, to get them inside information. She was relieved that she hadn’t made a mistake
not killing him yesterday.
“This is to protect you, Audrey,” he said. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. But, Garrett—”
“I’ll find a way to call you later, once I get out of here. Okay?”
“Fine,” she said.
She reluctantly ended the call as she passed the first Jacksonville exit. “Bye, Garrett. I’ll be back soon,” she said out
loud to herself.
Maybe.
She didn’t like the way he sounded on the phone. He seemed worried and depressed, and he should never be worried about anything.
And he sounded . . . different. Was he going to leave her?
No, he wouldn’t. That was silly. He loved her.
First things first. A two-hour drive. Two bullets in the stupid blonde, Kara, and two bullets in the asshole FBI agent, Matt. Then drive to the coast, get the boat, and go to her love.
Before Garrett, she was lost. With Garrett, she’d found her purpose. She hoped he wasn’t mad at her. He sounded mad. She didn’t
like it when people criticized her. If he was mad, he thought she had done something wrong. She hadn’t. She had done everything
they had planned, it was others who messed it all up.
Yeah, maybe she should have killed the cops at the beginning, but what fun was that?
Garrett would see it, too.
Before she met Garrett, Audrey was Clara Dolan. The only child to two brilliant college professors who never expected to have
kids until, after fifteen years of marriage, her thirty-nine-year-old mother became pregnant.
When Clara proved to be average academically, they were sorely disappointed. They had her tested repeatedly, sent her to the
best schools, expected her to suddenly do well in school, write brilliant essays, and understand advanced math. After all,
she was the prodigy of Gerald and Piper Dolan, of the genius IQ.
But Clara was average in every way except one: her looks.
Clara had been told she was beautiful from before she knew what beautiful meant. Strangers would go up to her mother and say,
“Oh, your daughter is beautiful!” or “Those eyes! She’s going to be a knockout” or “I’ve never seen such a beautiful child.”
When Clara was six, she wanted to be a model.
Her parents said no. They had a bunch of reasons, but Clara thought it was primarily because her mother was jealous of her beauty and didn’t want Clara to get the attention she clearly deserved.
Also, they’d have to hire someone to take her to auditions and photo shoots and if Clara had a photo shoot, it might put a damper on their social life.
When Clara was nine, she wanted to be an actress.
Her parents, perhaps because they realized she was never going to be a rocket scientist, relented and let her take acting lessons.
Clara overheard her father tell her mother, “Acting isn’t about intelligence, it may be a good fit for her. She is a pretty girl.”
But three years later, Clara overheard her instructor tell her parents that she had no talent. They offered to pay him more
to keep working with her—he declined. They sent her to camp that summer and never discussed it, never told her why she was
dropped. But she knew the truth and saw the disappointment in their eyes.
They thought she was so stupid she couldn’t even act.
Clara realized at a young age that her parents didn’t value her looks, but everyone else did. Her parents wanted a smart child,
and Clara tried. But she wasn’t like them. She didn’t care about school, and it was hard. She was always a disappointment,
and she didn’t like being made to feel stupid. She knew that she was smart, just not in the same way as her parents.
When she was twelve, Clara overheard her mother telling her book club that she thought Clara had been switched at birth with
her real daughter, and she secretly had a DNA test done. And, unfortunately, Clara was in fact her daughter.
That’s when Clara just stopped trying or caring. She wasn’t book smart, so what? She wasn’t dumb. She wasn’t an idiot. She was hardly stupid. She just didn’t get math—who the fuck cared? She didn’t like reading, was that a crime? And why did it matter if she knew
anything about history or art or why gravity worked? She just didn’t care about any of it.
She was beautiful. She was the most beautiful girl in school. Everyone said so, so Clara focused on her natural talent: using
her looks to get her everything that she wanted.
In high school she learned that men would do anything a pretty girl asked.
That took her far. She also learned that women resented her simply because she was beautiful.
It’s why Emily Masters thwarted Clara and stopped her from getting a promotion, because Emily resented Clara’s good looks and charm and wealth.
Clara learned to use her attributes to not only get what she wanted, but to pay back everyone who had hurt her.
Then, she’d found Garrett. It had been love at first sight.
And she would not lose him.
They would need to lie low for a few months, but she couldn’t wait to plan out their future.
New York City, here we come!
But first, she had two FBI agents to kill.