Twenty-six
The storm wiped all the stars from the night sky, leaving an opaque, dusty black. Whenever Eliza caught a blip of light behind a cloud, it disappeared as soon as her eyes focused.
She turned from the window and slipped into bed, her eyelids heavy. After a cup of chamomile from Granny, she’d done as they wanted and called Mike’s FBI friend. Her name was Ramona and she’d agreed to meet the next morning in Seattle.
Eliza booked the flight and excused herself, hoping for just a few moments alone to absorb what had happened.
Talking to the FBI seemed drastic, but then all of it felt drastic – the bag full of money, Stacy showing up, Granny chasing Stacy off.
Worst of all, the look on Joey’s face when she’d told him how she felt.
She couldn’t tell anyone about that, about how his face hardened when she told him what she knew and what she believed. She didn’t care if he was the robber. It hadn’t come out right, but it was true. No matter what, he was going to leave. That was what she cared about. That was what bothered her the most.
Telling Mackenzie or Granny or Mom about it was impossible. How his face twisted when he backed away from her. How he walked into the storm rather than face her...
In her dreams that night, she ran after him, his dark form disappearing into the rain. A dream lawyer appeared at her door with a message – a box of chocolates and a note. “My client thanks you for your interest.”
She woke with a start, her hair soaked and cold.
Eliza got out of bed quietly, peeling off her pajamas before stepping into the shower. She stood under the hot water until her skin turned pink.
Her flight was before sunrise. The strangest part wasn’t sneaking out before everyone awoke; it was looking at the pilot’s face and not seeing Joey – not his hair, not his nose, not the grin that reached his eyes.
She met with Agent Ramona at a coffee shop. She had round brown eyes, creased at the sides, and purple bags underneath.
She listened to Eliza’s story from the beginning, only looking away to write down a line or two.
“My sister is confident Stacy is involved, but I don’t know what to think. I just know I wasn’t involved and someone’s trying to make it look like I am.”
Ramona frowned, her sky eyes scanning her notes. “I looked into Stacy. Did you know she used to work for the DEA?”
Eliza nodded. “My sister saw that online.”
“Do you know why she left?” She set her pen down and clasped her hands on the table.
Eliza shook her head. “Do you?”
She laughed. “I do, but I can’t share it with you.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” She smiled, wrapping her hands around her now lukewarm coffee. The barista had offered to sprinkle vanilla into it for her, and she had agreed without thinking. The artificial smell kept sticking in her nose.
“And the bag?” Ramona asked. “The one someone left at the tea shop. Did you bring it?”
It was nice of her to ask, since it was obvious it was sitting beneath them.
Eliza leaned down and pulled it from under her chair. “This is it. Do you think you can get fingerprints from it?”
She shrugged. “Maybe, but probably not.”
“I didn’t take anything, but I did touch the hat and the ski mask. I did not touch the money.”
“You sure about that?” the agent said with a wink.
Eliza looked down, her cheeks flushing red. “I’m sure. We were afraid there might be ink packs in it or something. Also, I knew it was stolen money, and I don’t want anything to do with it.”
Agent Ramona unzipped the bag and glanced inside. “I’m going to look into this. All of it. If anything else comes up, call me directly, okay?” She slid a small, plain card across the table.
Eliza reached to grab it. The paper stuck to her sweaty palm. “I will. Thank you for your help. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Happy to be of service. You take care.”
On her return flight to San Juan Island, Eliza had a different pilot who still wasn’t Joey. She still couldn’t help looking over at him every few minutes, her mind trying to fill in the details to make it him.
It was never him.
They landed and she stepped off the plane onto the dock in Roche Harbor. Her phone dinged with a text and her heart leapt. It could be Joey after all. He could have changed his mind.
She pulled out her phone and stared at the screen.
It was Mackenzie.
Don’t come home.
Eliza laughed, writing back, Why not?
Her sister’s response was a picture of something small and white. Eliza opened it, her smile falling as soon as she saw the black letters at the top: ARREST WARRANT.
She scanned, spotting ELIZABETH DENNET and the signature of a judge.
Mackenzie texted again. There was evidence planted in your car.
“Everything all right? I hope that wasn’t too bumpy for you.”
Eliza looked up. The not-Joey pilot was speaking to her with his not-Joey face.
She realized her mouth was hanging open. “No, it was wonderful. Thank you.”
An arrest warrant? Was she supposed to run? Where? Surely they would come looking for her. Was her phone being tracked? Would turning it off work, or could they still find her?
Maybe she watched too many movies. Or maybe, not enough, because clearly—
“Eliza?”
She spun around and her mind went blank. The not-Joey pilot was gone. Her mind had replaced him with a full-sized Joey apparition.
“Joey,” she whispered.
He cocked his head to the side. “What are you doing here?”
The sun framed him in her field of view. He hadn’t stepped out of her mind. He was really there. She squinted to see him. “I had to take a flight to Seattle.”
His eyes softened. “Are you okay?” He stepped closer. “You look really pale.”
Without thinking, she handed him her phone, the picture of the arrest warrant still displayed.
He accepted the phone and his eyebrows bunched up.
He was so close. Eliza traced the outline of his cheeks, his nose, and his lips with her eyes…
Joey zoomed in on her name. “This looks real.”
“I think it is.”
“What are you going to do?” He looked up at her, his mouth a hard line.
“I don’t know. I was thinking I should get rid of this phone so they can’t track me.”
Without a word, he pulled his arm back and chucked her phone into the sea. It disappeared beneath the surface with a small plop.
She covered her mouth. A laugh escaped from her. “What is happening right now? Why are you here?”
“I just flew some guys in from the sea pen site to get lunch in the harbor.”
“Have you heard from anyone? Stacy? The FBI?”
He frowned. “No. Why would the FBI talk to me?”
Sunlight reflected off the water onto his face. She stared, memorizing every detail. “I had to talk to them. It’s a friend of a friend, nothing official. I had to tell them about the bag at the tea shop.”
“The bag,” he repeated slowly.
“It had the cowboy hat and a ski mask and a bunch of money in it. I think Stacy is trying to frame me.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Wow.”
“I had to tell them about you. Nothing but the facts – we were looking together, you’re a pilot. You gave her a ride to the island.”
“I see.” He looked down and sighed. “And me giving the robber a getaway flight?”
“It didn’t come up.” That was the truth. Ramona hadn’t asked and Eliza hadn’t offered.
“Ah. I see.”
He hadn’t left. Not yet at least. He was standing here in front of her, weighing his options.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
He crossed his arms over his chest, a smirk on his lips. “Who, me? I’ve got work to do.”
“Right.” She cleared her throat. “For Russell.”
“And you.”
“Me?” Eliza smiled. “Why me?”
“You need a place to hide out, right? How about I fly you to the sea pen site? You could stay in Russell’s office. The visitor apartments aren’t done yet, but they have water and electricity. There’s even a little fridge.” He put his hand out, palm up. “Unless you don’t trust me.”
Her chest grew hot, her blood on fire, melting everything it touched. She could hardly lift her hand to his. “I trust you.”
Joey grinned. “Then come with me.”