Ransom

46 Ghosts

Ghosts

It couldn’t be . . .

I must’ve heard wrong. “Who?” I asked again, my heart thundering in my chest.

“Avery Sinclair. Do you know him?”

“No!” I wailed, feeling the blood drain from my face. I sprang from my chair and started pacing the floor, wringing my hands, ignoring the tears rolling down my face. “Is there anything we can do? He can’t testify, Colton!”

“Why?” He stood and walked over to me. Concerned, Billy Ray rinsed his hands quickly and joined us, wiping them against his apron.

“No, no, no,” I repeated obsessively, shaking my head. “He can’t . . . no.”

Colton looked at the witness list, then at me. “He’s a sixteen-year-old kid. Did you have sex with him?”

“What? No!” I cried, turning my back to him and burying my face in my hands, sobbing hard.

“Then what could he possibly have to say that’s so damaging to you, Hattie?”

It should’ve never happened, but it had, and there was no escaping it. Billy Ray rubbed my back and held me while I collected myself, and Colton stared at me in panicked disbelief. When I was sure I could speak without choking on my tears, I met his glance.

“Not Hattie,” I whispered. “Melanie Gates. In Seattle, I was Melanie Gates. That’s who he’ll testify about.”

“What?” Colton shouted. “What are you talking about?”

Billy Ray whistled quietly and took his ballcap off, throwing it on the couch.

I straightened my back and lifted my chin. “Avery Sinclair is from Seattle and knows me under that name.”

“What will he testify about?” Colton asked in a tense whisper. “What will he have to say about you?”

My lips trembled before I could bring myself to let the words come out.

“You asked how I make my money.” I sat on the couch, too weary to keep standing.

“Avery will tell you his father, Alan Sinclair of Sinclair Airlines, fell in love with me. At some point, he proposed, with a ring and everything.”

“Sounds familiar, now, doesn’t it?” Colton snapped, the sarcasm in his voice searing. There was an ominous darkness in his eyes, like I’d never seen before.

I chose to ignore his comment. “After the proposal, I took evidence of the affair to Mrs. Sinclair and offered her the option to buy back her husband from me.”

Billy Ray whistled again. “Holy shit, sis!”

I shrugged, forcing my eyes from them for a moment, then facing Colton again. “At the least, I offered her a very lucrative divorce from Mr. Sinclair, which was what she was really after. She gladly paid . . . they always did. Then she divorced him. Cleaned him out.”

“Always?” Colton’s eyes widened. “My God, Hattie . . . Who the hell are you?” He took his hand to his forehead, rubbing it furiously as if that helped him understand things better. “What does this kid want, then? How did he find you?”

I chuckled bitterly. “Vengeance, I guess. Avery blamed me for the divorce, for everything he lost financially. Status. Full control of his father’s business upon his death. Things like that.”

“He’ll have a damning story to tell,” Colton said. I saw on his face how the pieces of the puzzle were trickling in, settling in place. “His mother told Avery about you? About what you did?”

“No. The wives sign NDAs, or there’s no deal. Must’ve been some other way. Maybe he figured it out on his own.”

Mouth agape, Colton shook his head. Staring at me with horror, as he would a monster. “How did he find you?”

I lowered my head, shame tightening my throat.

My voice felt brittle when I finally spoke.

“I always end things with a clean exit. One identity vanishes at the departure airport; another emerges at the arrival. In this case, everything about Melanie Gates was destroyed—ID, phone, everything. Hattie took the flight with her real ID, and then Olivia Taylor was born the moment I bought a new phone and registered it at Harry Reid airport here in Vegas.”

I paused, my gaze falling to my fingers—white and frozen against my lap, trembling so badly I had to curl them into fists to stop the shaking.

“The trial,” I whispered, the words almost a gasp. “Winston’s murder . . . it’s everywhere. My face is everywhere.”

I looked up, my voice tightening with dread.

“He must’ve seen the coverage. Recognized me.

When I chose Sinclair, I didn’t realize that his kid would have access to flight manifests, because of the family business.

I didn’t imagine how desperate he’d be to find me, to make me pay for what I’d done.

I never saw that coming, but I should have.

” My stomach clenched. “Either way, he knows who I am. And he wants revenge.”

“How many times have you done this?” Colton asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

I shook my head. That number would die with me. “I’ve been doing it since I ran away that night. Well, I started a few months later.”

“How?” Colton asked, pulling up a chair and straddling it backward, then resting his chin on his arms. “How does one start doing what you’ve done? I can’t fucking believe it,” he added, looking sideways, disgusted.

“Whoa,” Billy Ray said, getting in Colton’s face. “Show some damn respect. If you think she did this for fun, you’re an idiot. She had to survive.”

Colton didn’t reply; he just looked at me. But it wasn’t the same Colton I used to know. This one was a complete stranger, repulsed by what he saw in front of him. “I think it’s way past the moment you tell me everything you’ve done since the day you ran away.”

My lips stayed pressed into a thin line, my secrets fighting to remain hidden. But I no longer had a choice—not any more than I had control over my own existence.

“I was homeless for a while,” I said, the memory of those days weighing on me. “I stole food off store shelves and clothes off people’s backyard lines. I read a lot, at first because I assumed the cops were looking for me; I was an underage runaway. My father must’ve reported me.”

“He didn’t,” Billy Ray said with a scoff. “What did you expect from the sick son of a bitch?”

I barely heard him, my mind lost in the haze of dark memories.

“I read a lot, because cops don’t pick on a girl who’s reading in the park, but they’ll pick on a girl who’s just sleeping or doing nothing.

There was this used bookstore in Dallas with a large display table in front.

One day, I stole a book from there. I read it that day, and the next day, I brought it back and took another. Only, I got caught.”

“Damn,” Billy Ray muttered under his breath. “Did they arrest you?”

“No.” I smiled through a blur of tears. “The bookstore owner, an old Vietnam-era vet, took it upon himself to teach me a little of what he knew of the world. Every day, he’d give me a book assignment, and then we’d discuss it.”

“Did he take you in?” Colton asked, his voice less filled with contempt than earlier.

“No, I didn’t tell him I had no place to live, but I guess he must’ve known, because he started leaving the back door open.

I spent a lot of time watching movies and shows, at first in front of an electronics store, and then in the bookstore at night, where I could finally sleep without being afraid.

One afternoon, when I was returning the day’s reading assignment, I found police at the store, and an ambulance, too.

He was gone, had a massive stroke.” My voice trailed off, shattered.

“And I was alone again, with no place to go.” I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. I still missed Mr. Barney.

Colton’s hand covered his mouth for a moment. “Why didn’t you call me?”

I ignored that; he’d find out soon enough.

“I just kept on going, still afraid the cops were looking for me, no idea they weren’t. I panhandled and got some cash, and then bought myself a gym membership at the Y in Dallas.”

“Gym?” Colton was visibly confused.

“It’s access to air-conditioned environments and showers for only seventy bucks a month. They gave me a locker where I could keep a toothbrush and some clothes. They don’t care if you spend your day there, reading on a slow treadmill or on the bench. Can’t beat that when you’re homeless.”

“I had no idea,” Colton whispered.

Billy Ray stared at him, disappointment visible in his eyes. My brother understood me better.

“Then what happened? How did you—”

I raised my hand, and Colton stopped talking.

“I tried to get a job, but I didn’t have ID or an address.

Out of options, I kept on reading and killing time in front of electronics stores, watching television where they had subtitles on, not daring to sleep on the streets until the break of dawn.

Then one night, a store salesman approached me.

He was about forty-five and had gray hair.

” I drew a long shattered breath, then continued, “He started flirting with me, despite wearing a thick, shiny wedding band on his ring finger. He kept on promising me stuff, and taking me out to dinner, which I appreciated, but I didn’t like him.

He made me sick. When he put his hands on me, I couldn’t take it, and I panicked.

I shrieked and ran away. He called me a crazy bitch.

But I’d learned something by leading him on—by never really saying no, but never sleeping with him, either. ”

I stopped talking, gathering my strength. It was draining, visiting the bygone ghosts who’d all taken their pound of flesh.

“Don’t leave us hanging, sis,” Billy Ray said quietly. His brow was ridged, his face scrunched with concern and anger and powerlessness. My brother’s face was an open book.

I filled my lungs with air, steeling myself for the worst part.

“Men are inherently hunters. They give chase and find endless thrill in that. Excitement. Passion. But once they sink their teeth into their prey, even if only once, most of that thrill is gone. I couldn’t let them sink their teeth into me, and that’s why I was so irresistible.

A tease, some might say, but that doesn’t make it any less true.

” I looked straight into Colton’s eyes. “That night, I spent all my cash following that salesman to his house in a cab, to see where he lived. I spent the night hiding in his backyard. Then, the next day, when he went to work, I sold him to his wife.” A quiet chuckle came off my lips.

“I was so flustered, I stammered and asked for five thousand instead of the five hundred I had planned. Before I could correct myself, she said yes, but she wanted proof. She drove me downtown herself, and took pictures of us holding hands, me apologizing to him, telling him I’d been scared and all that .

. . I let him kiss me once. Then I took the money and left Dallas before he could come after me. ”

“And you’ve been doing this for nine years?” Colton asked, his voice loaded with disbelief. “Was Winston a, um, what do you call these men?”

“A mark? Yes. At first. Except I fell in love with him.”

He rubbed his forehead angrily. “So, why didn’t you want to marry him?”

Tears choked me. “I—I can’t, Colton. Even if I loved him, I couldn’t sleep with him. Not with him . . . or with anyone.” I lowered my head, hiding the flush in my cheeks. “Not even with you, ten years ago,” I whispered.

For a moment, no one said anything. We just sat there in perfect silence, dealing with everything that had been said.

“God damn that son of a bitch,” Billy Ray whispered, cursing our father the way I did every time I wished I could live a normal life.

I stood and walked over to the kitchen. I opened the fridge and took out the only bottle of liquor there was, Grey Goose.

I poured about three fingers in a glass, then added some ice cubes.

I drank a big swig, feeling it burn its way down my throat, easing the tension.

I topped the glass with more vodka, then went back to the couch.

“What will this do to my defense?” I asked Colton, clinking the ice cubes in my glass with a gentle circular motion.

“You might not realize this, but justice rarely has anything to do with verdicts. It’s usually the best story that wins,” he said quietly. “We have to rethink everything.” He ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times. “You made it sound easy . . . Was it always like this?”

I shook my head slowly. “No. Most wives got angry, some physical, even. The shock, the pain, the jealousy . . . it’s a lot to take.

One time, a husband and wife joined forces and came at me.

Another time, I was almost raped. But I learned that the richer the mark, the higher the ransom and the lower the risk.

It just takes a lot more work to operate in the stratosphere.

And a lot more money to pass for someone I’m not. ”

A shadow crossed over Colton’s face. “Did you meet with Claire? For this ransom business, as you call it?”

“Yes.”

He leaned back, a flicker of interest sparkling in his blue irises. “Ah, that’s how you know it was her. You gave her everything, didn’t you? The place he was staying, when you’d go there, all of it? Pictures, too?”

I nodded, lowering my head, ashamed. “I didn’t see it coming.”

“And the eye drops?”

“Those were there, too. She had me put drops in her eyes while we were talking. Obviously, there couldn’t have been any meth in them at the time.

I thought it was a simple stalling technique.

But I don’t know how the bottle of eye drops landed in my car.

She must’ve put it there after killing him.

I’m telling you, those partials are hers. ”

He stood and started pacing the room slowly, his hands plunged into his pockets. “And you didn’t think of telling me any of this? Without this . . . Avery Sinclair, you would’ve kept on lying to me?”

He waited for me to answer, but I just looked at him apologetically. There was nothing I could say to make things better.

“What are we going to do?” I asked. “This cannot come out, Colton. They will execute me. We have to spin it somehow, or prove it was Claire.”

The dark glimmer of worry and dread returned to Colton’s eyes.

“I can’t even think straight right now. I’ll have to ask for a continuance.”