Chapter 17

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Scarlett and Oakley heard Flint’s report of the call at the same time.

Instantly, Oakley shoved back from the table. Her chair scraped the floor, and her hands accidentally swept her cup off the table. The cup hit the floor and splashed coffee everywhere.

“What the hell?” Scarlett grabbed the cash and the burner phone just before the coffee soaked through them.

Oakley was on her feet with her back against the wall and her hands flat against it on either side of her hips, as if the wall were the only thing keeping her prisoner here.

Scarlett sent a cautioning glance toward Flint and a gesture to keep him at the table.

She kept her hands where everyone could see them and walked toward Oakley. “It’s okay. You’re safe here. No one’s going to hurt you.”

Oakley didn’t move.

“Come back and sit down.”

While Flint remained seated, Scarlett collected paper towels from the kitchen. She wiped up the coffee and tossed the cup and towels into the trash.

She pulled two cups from the stack and brought the carafe to the table. As she refilled all the coffee, she said, “Let’s drink while it’s hot.”

Oakley’s hands came off the wall slowly. She seemed to distrust her legs for a moment before she crossed the floor. She lifted the chair off the floor and squared it with the table before she sat.

Scarlett returned to the seat across the table. “Here’s what I think happened. You can tell me if I’ve got it wrong.”

Oakley didn’t respond.

“Somebody dropped an envelope at my office. Inside was a USB drive and an old Polaroid photo. The Polaroid was taken at the Lazy M at least twenty years ago.”

Oakley stared ahead, giving nothing away.

Scarlett gestured to the phone. “Last night, somebody called me from this burner. The caller was a woman. She asked to meet me at a place she believed I would know.”

Oakley cocked her head.

“I believe you sent me the envelope and you’re the one who called me,” Scarlett said.

Oakley shrugged.

“You approached me and you did it carefully. Which means you thought it through,” Scarlett said. “What did you want from me?”

Oakley looked down at the coffee cup in her hands resting on the table.

Scarlett waited in silence. Flint hadn’t moved. Outside, light traffic passed on the street.

Finally, Oakley looked up. “I told you what I need. Cash. I know you have it. Or you can get it.”

“Why would I give you cash if you asked for it?” Scarlett said. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“I hoped you would. When we had a chance to talk and I could tell you why I needed it,” Oakley replied.

“Okay. Tell me why you need it.”

“I need to start over where they can never find me again,” she said. “I don’t know who they are. I’ve been trying to figure that out for months and I’m no closer than I was when I started. All I know is what they did.”

“What did they do?”

“It’s like my entire life has been erased.

” Oakley took a fortifying breath. “The first thing was the credit card I used at the clinic in Europe. It was declined. I had to pay cash. After that, every piece of ID I tried to use and every account I tried to access was blocked. When I tried to reenter the country, my passport was confiscated at the airport, and I wasn’t allowed to board.

It was like I didn’t exist anymore. Which led to theft accusations from cops and merchants and even online stores. ”

“How’d you get back to the US, then?”

“I stowed away on private ships that eventually got me to Mexico. I snuck across the border into Texas and hitchhiked to Langford,” she said, as if the mere telling was exhausting. “By that time I’d been on the road for months.”

Scarlett noticed her mistake, but she didn’t mention it yet. Langford. Oakley was claiming to be Nancy Keane. She didn’t look like Nancy Kean’s photographs. But the height and build were close enough. Possibly.

“Which is when you contacted Theresa Moreno,” Scarlett said.

“Theresa was a friend. The only person I reached out to. I thought I could trust her and she’d help me figure out what to do,” Oakley nodded as if she was making complete sense. “After I got in touch, she was killed by a hit-and-run driver. Police never found him. They never will.”

“You think whoever erased you also killed Theresa Moreno?”

Oakley nodded. “And the pilot at the Lazy M this morning? I thought he was one of them. He had a weapon and he was walking toward the house. I’d been waiting for them to come. I had no choice.”

Scarlett and Flint exchanged a glance. “Why were you so terrified about Patterson going missing?”

“They took him because he was at the ranch this morning,” Oakley said. “They saw him with you. Which means they know who you are now, too. You have to let me go. They’ll kill you, too, if they find us together.”

Scarlett heard the door to the garage roll up.

Drake walked in with his go bag over one shoulder. He took in the room. Oakley at the table with her hands around the coffee cup. Scarlett in her chair across the table. Flint next to her.

“Bathroom’s the second door on the left,” Flint said, making it clear he didn’t want to talk just yet. “Towels in the cabinet under the sink. Coffee’s in the carafe when you’re done.”

“Give me five minutes.” Drake went down the hall. The bathroom door shut behind him and the shower started.

Flint pulled his phone toward him on the table and swiped through to a photo. He turned the screen toward Oakley. “This is the man who was with us at the Lazy M and abducted. His name is Cody Patterson.”

“Yes.”

“Had you ever seen him before today? Is he one of the people you told us has been after you?” Flint swiped to a clearer shot and turned the screen back again.

“Possibly. He looks familiar.” She cocked her head as if she were searching old memories. “I’ve been a lot of places.”

“But you remember something, don’t you?” Flint pressed.

“Maybe. In San Diego last fall,” Oakley replied. “If it was him, he was standing on the sidewalk talking to a guy in front of a restaurant near Balboa Park.”

“Did you hear what they said?”

“I was too far away, and it was windy that day.” She shook her head. “But it could have been him. Maybe that’s why I was afraid of him at the Lazy M. Could have been subconscious.”

The shower stopped down the hall. The pipes ticked as they cooled.

A few minutes later Drake came around the corner into the kitchen in clean clothes from his go bag. He was scrolling on his phone as he walked.

He set the bag against the wall by the door to the garage and came to the table.

“I pulled the CCTV before I left the field. It’s not great. But you can see what happened.”

He turned the phone so Flint could see and started the clip. Scarlett leaned to look over Flint’s shoulder. Oakley stayed where she was.

The footage was the area near the Bell shot from a corner camera mounted high on the terminal building. Patterson came into the frame walking from the helicopter pad toward the building.

He was alone.

He covered about half the distance, and a black sedan came in from the right side, fast. The driver stopped between Patterson and the door. It looked like the passenger was saying something.

Patterson stood beside the passenger window for two or three seconds. Then he opened the back door and got in. The sedan rolled out the way it came.

Drake paused the clip on the sedan as it cleared the frame and zoomed in on the back.

“That’s the plate I gave Gaspar. You can read the LK but not the rest. Camera angle’s too tight.”

Flint scrolled the clip back. He paused on a frame that caught the driver through the windshield. The image wasn’t clear, but a face was visible. He studied it for a long moment.

Then he scrolled forward and stopped when the video caught the passenger through the side window as the sedan pulled away. He was heavier through the shoulders and shorter than the driver. His face was visible.

Flint looked carefully before he said, “Same guys who tossed Patterson’s car last night. The taller one and the shorter one.”

“They tried to get Patterson last night and then came back today?” Drake asked.

“They walked up from the west end of my block on foot and broke into Patterson’s sedan. Stole his laptop and his atlas with his notes written on it. My street cameras caught them.”

Scarlett said, “They’re persistent.”

Flint turned the phone toward Oakley. “You ever seen these two.”

Oakley looked at the driver carefully. “No.”

He swiped to the passenger. “This one?”

“I’m sure. I haven’t seen either face before.”

Flint nodded and took the phone back. He scrolled forward to where the sedan rolled out and stared at the half-readable plate frozen at the edge of the frame.

His phone buzzed in his other hand. He picked up the call. “Gaspar.”

Flint stepped away down the hall for privacy. Drake’s gaze followed him for a second and then came back to Scarlett. She shrugged.

“Gaspar’s got a lead on the sedan. Drake, let’s go,” Flint said when he came back into the kitchen.

Drake set the cup on the counter and picked up his go bag.

Flint said, “I’ll call when I can.”

“I’ve got plenty to do here yet,” Scarlett replied.

Drake was a step behind him. Flint pressed the button, the overhead door to the garage rolled open. A couple of seconds later the SUV started. The engine sound moved out into the street and away before the door rolled securely down.

Scarlett set her phone face-down on the table and pulled her coffee toward her. “Let’s talk about the cash. Where do you plan to go?”

“Out of the country. It isn’t safe here.”

“Where out of the country?”

“Somewhere I can live cheaply on what I have. I’ll work that out when I’m closer to leaving.”

Scarlett nodded. “How much do you need?”

“Five hundred thousand should do it,” Oakley replied without flinching.

Scarlett’s eyebrows arched. “That’s a lot of cash.”

“Enough to disappear. Anything less and I’ll be back in the same position in a year, looking over my shoulder until they finish what they started.”

Scarlett could give her the money. She didn’t have it in her pocket, but she could get it. Oakley had to know that. Which might have been the real reason she’d targeted Scarlett for the ask. “I’ll think about it.”

Oakley’s hands tightened on the edge of the table.

“Before I think about anything,” Scarlett said, “I need to know who you are.”

Oakley didn’t answer.

“I need to verify your self-defense claims. Helping you build a new life is one thing. But I can’t give you money to become a fugitive.”

Oakley seemed to think about it, but she shook her head. “I can’t tell you my name.”

“Why not?”

“Theresa Moreno is dead because she knew I’m still alive.” Oakley’s voice was flat. “They’ll do the same thing to you.”

“Why did you come to me, anyway?” Scarlett asked. “You’re saying it’s so dangerous just to know you’re alive, and yet you’ve put me in this situation.”

“A woman told me about you at a bar in El Paso. She said you were one tough bitch and if I ever got into trouble I should find you,” Oakley replied. “She said you’d help me.”

“What did she look like?”

“About my age, I guess. She had dark hair.”

Scarlett believed what she said about Moreno. The rest was probably bullshit and she was out of patience. She reached into the bag at her feet and took out a sealed foil wrapper. She opened the foil and offered the swab.

Oakley took it and held it for a moment. “What’s this?”

“DNA. To confirm your identity.”

Something shifted in Oakley’s expression. Then she shrugged, ran the swab along the inside of her cheek, and handed it back.

“How long does it take?” she asked.

“Not long. I’ll get it started and we can keep talking.” Scarlett sealed the swab inside the cartridge. “My equipment is in the back.”

She walked down the hall with the cartridge in her hand. The reader was ready. She pressed the cartridge into the slot and the laptop began processing. When she confirmed the system was running properly, she started back to the kitchen.

Which was when she heard the connecting door to the garage click shut.

Scarlett ran along the hallway into the kitchen. Oakley’s chair was empty. Her backpack, burner, and cash envelope were gone.

She hustled through the connecting door to see the overhead door was only two feet above the concrete. Oakley had hit the close button and ducked under it to escape.

Scarlett slapped the button to reverse. The door stopped, held, started up, but it was much too slow.

She stood in the driveway, scanning the streets. Late afternoon sun hit the asphalt. A neighbor’s sprinkler was running two houses down. A kid on a bike turned the far corner.

Oakley was gone.

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