Chapter Three #3
“I’m well aware of that,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate your sense of responsibility.
Very impressive. And I’m grateful for the rescue tonight.
But I think it would be best if, once we’re away from the coast, you dropped me off at the nearest town. I can take care of myself from now on.”
“Yeah? How do you intend to do that?”
“I always knew this day might come. I’ve made preparations.”
He glanced at the pack slung over her shoulder. “That’s your go bag, isn’t it?”
“A woman on her own has to plan for the future.”
“What about your car? It’s parked back at the hotel.”
The fresh dose of reality hit hard. She could not risk returning for her car. The kidnappers would be waiting.
“It’s of no use to me now,” she said.
“No,” Owen said dryly, “it’s not. If they don’t find you tonight, that crew at the hotel will put a tracker on your vehicle in case you do return for it.”
“Hmm. If I could find a way to get it back to Illusion Town, I know someone who could arrange to have the tracker removed and also upgrade the license and registration.”
“Excuse me—you know someone who operates a chop shop?”
She glared. “You make it sound as if Sam’s Like It Never Happened Auto Repair is an illegal business. That is a serious mischaracterization. Sam caters to a highly specialized market.”
“Right. A market that does not want to create a paper or digital trail. Is that where you got the new ID?”
“No, that came from Pettingale’s Hot off the Press Print on Demand.”
“Hot being the operative word, I’m assuming. How did a nice Ballantine Academy woman like you end up doing business with chop shops and forgers?”
“Some of my clients were kind enough to arrange introductions,” she said stiffly.
“Are you talking about your clients at the Aurora Street Dream Clinic?”
“You know where I work, too? Never mind. You obviously know everything. I wish you wouldn’t use labels like chop shops and forgers. Sam’s and Pettingale’s are very helpful, customer-centric neighborhood businesses.”
“Noted.”
“Losing the car is bad enough,” she continued, eager to change the subject.
“When I think of all the stuff in my house that I will have to leave behind when I disappear again, I could…never mind.” Damned if she would cry.
One did not shed tears because one had to abandon a few possessions.
“It’s amazing how much a person can accumulate in seven months. ”
Especially when you’ve convinced yourself that you may be safe after all, she thought. But it had become clear that the new life she had constructed was just one more illusion in a city that specialized in them.
“Illusion Town was a good choice for a hideout,” Owen said as if he had guessed her thoughts. “It’s relatively easy to get lost in a large city that draws thousands of tourists with casinos and nightclubs.”
“You can skip the fake positive feedback. It’s too late. You’ve already made me feel naive and foolish.”
“That was not my intention. I’m trying to make you understand that you need a new direction. Kelbrook’s people found you once—”
“Thanks to you, apparently.”
“They will find you again, even without my help. You can’t hide from them indefinitely.”
“I don’t have much choice.” She clutched the strap of her precious go bag. “I’m not going back to Serenity Gardens under any circumstances.”
“You could try listening to me,” Owen said. “I’ve got an idea.”
By training and inclination, she was not prone to being suspicious—she had been taught to project positive energy, and, technically speaking, suspicion was a negative force. Nevertheless, she had come to realize that it was also a pragmatic approach in some situations.
“Why are you so eager to help me hide from Dunstan Kelbrook?” she asked.
“I don’t like knowing that someone used me to track you down.”
“In other words, you also feel naive and foolish.”
“Oh, yeah.”
That gave her some satisfaction.
“Here’s the essence of my plan,” he continued. “You and I have a mutual target. It makes sense for us to work together.”
“To accomplish what?” she asked, deeply wary. People who talked about having targets made her uneasy. The word itself reeked of negative energy. On the other hand, she herself was a target. That was a lot more unsettling.
“The goal is to find a way to make Dunstan Kelbrook back off so that you can get on with your life. To do that, we need to figure out why he’s taken such an interest in you.”
“I’ve spent a lot of time asking that question myself.
The only connection that I have to the Kelbrook family is—was—my…
my husband, and he was just a distant cousin.
I didn’t even know that until after I woke up in Serenity Gardens.
I don’t think Travis was aware of the connection, either.
He certainly never mentioned it to me—at least, I don’t think he did. ”
But maybe he had told her and she couldn’t remember it. There were so many things she could not recall about her brief time with Travis Poole, her husband of less than a day.
She had to force herself to use the word husband in the same sentence as Travis because it had never seemed natural or balanced.
Never right. It had always felt wrong, although there was no denying that she had been married—a Covenant Marriage, no less—to Travis Poole.
She had no clear memories of the man or the wedding, but she had seen the paperwork, the license, and, most damning of all, the photo and the ring.
She had made a point of “losing” the ring immediately after she had figured out how to fake taking the psi-suppressant meds.
“According to Twitchell, Kelbrook’s fixer, his boss is deeply concerned about your welfare and wants you locked up for your own protection and the safety of others,” Owen said.
“I’m no longer buying that motive, but one thing I do know is that Dunstan Kelbrook is going to keep looking for you unless we find a way to stop him. ”