Chapter Eleven Ella
Chapter Eleven
Ella
Everywhere I look, a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors paints the landscape.
I love fall. It’s my favorite season.
As I sit in the passenger seat of this old Ford Taurus, I watch the ever-changing beauty of nature pass me by. Despite the funny smell in the car, a sense of calm has washed over me, and I welcome it after the events of this morning.
They already feel far away now, as if they happened to someone else.
I try not to think of Tiero. Whenever his name even brushes my thoughts, I deliberately shift my focus back to the scenery outside the window, to the fiery reds and golds blurring together as we drive.
Still, my chest tightens for a fleeting moment every time before I manage to steady my breathing again, reminding myself that thinking about him helps no one.
I wish we could stop and go exploring. The day is too brilliant to spend it cooped up in a car, but alas, that’s not in my horoscope for today.
We left Halifax behind a few hours ago. After getting gas, water, snacks, and a map, which I promptly passed to Claudette, we’re now driving west toward our faraway destination.
Cat estimates the trip will take five or six days, and that’s if we don’t stop. We haven’t discussed whether we’ll be staying in motels to sleep, but that’s probably not wise. It would leave clues for Tiero to track, breadcrumbs leading straight to us.
Cat called Lex as soon as we were sure we weren’t followed, updating him on what was going on. He discussed our plan to hide in the Rockies with his boss, and they all embraced it and assured us they would get us there. Now we’re waiting for Lex’s call with further instructions.
I’m curious to see what he’ll come up with, because this old Ford Taurus isn’t going to make it very far, especially once the roads turn steeper.
I’m loving this drive, though. Each bend in the road reveals a new vista, a picturesque scene straight out of a postcard.
I’ll have to come back here once some normality returns to my life.
Ha, will that ever happen?
The uncertainty of my future settles over me like a shadow. I cradle my stomach, feeling protective of the life growing inside me.
“Are you sick?” Cat asks, glancing briefly at my clasped hands over my stomach.
Right, she doesn’t know about the baby.
“Wouldn’t surprise me. You guys don’t smell too good,” she teases, sniffing the air and fanning herself.
Hmm, maybe the funny odor in the car is me and Claudette.
“You made us hide under the garbage,” I retort.
“We did,” she grins. “And it worked. You’re here now and not on a plane to Sicily.”
A shudder runs through me just imagining that possibility.
“True, but it was one of my worst experiences. I was close to suffocating in the stink,” I say, maybe a little dramatically.
Cat chuckles. “Yeah, I can’t decide if the smell reminds me of rotten eggs or a full diaper.”
Both options make me want to gag.
“It was an adventure though,” Claudette pipes up from the backseat. “A fabulous story for around the campfire. There was this one time—”
Cat’s phone rings, cutting her off, and Lex’s name flashes on the screen. She answers, putting him on speaker.
“Hey girls. We’ve got a plan worked out. Head to Montreal,” he instructs. “The boss’s niece studies there. She’s got his brother’s RV, which is equipped with everything you need to get to the Rockies. You can overnight anywhere without leaving a trace.”
“Don’t you need a car to pull an RV?” I ask.
“You’re thinking of trailers. This one’s a motor home. It’s not huge, but it’ll get you to the other side of the country.”
It actually sounds like fun. I’ve always wanted to take a trip in one of those, but Rhia is a little snobby and prefers fancy hotels over anything remotely rustic, even though she and Lex bonded on a camping trip in the Scottish wilderness.
“There’s also going to be a bag with money,” Lex continues, “and a new credit card under one of your pseudonyms, Cat. Only use it if absolutely necessary. The satellite navigation has been disabled so you’re not trackable.
The RV will be stocked with food, so you’re good to go as soon as you get there. I’ll send through the pickup address.”
“You’ll need to get yourselves warm clothes,” he adds. “Do that as soon as you see a shop and use the company card. If for any reason they trace it, it’s still nowhere near your destination, and if they hack any camera footage, they’ll only see the old car.”
It seems Lex has thought of everything. But I shouldn’t be surprised. This is what he does.
“Any news on how De Marco found Ella?” Cat asks.
“No, we’re still looking into it. We checked our systems. His hacker has only been where we wanted him to go. So our best guess is facial recognition. Though when we tested photos and videos of Ella with her new look, nothing triggered.”
That does nothing to ease the unease curling in my stomach.
“We’ll keep digging,” Lex continues. “Because if there’s a hole in our approach, we need to plug it. Until we know how he got the information, we need to limit contact, even through secured channels.”
“Understood,” Cat says. “I’ll only be in touch if necessary.”
“A motor home,” Claudette says cheerfully, after Cat ends the call. “What fun we shall have.”
“I’m definitely too young to travel in an RV,” Cat replies dryly.
“Why is that?” Claudette asks.
“Because the average age of an RV owner is forty-nine.”
“Just think of it as being ahead of the game,” I tease. “Imagine the experience and wisdom you can impart when your friends finally get their first RV.”
“Makes me sound ancient already,” Cat deadpans.
“Anyway, how far is it to Montreal?” Claudette asks, changing the subject.
“I should be asking you,” Cat replies. “You’re the one with the map.”
“Oh, that’s right.”
Rustling comes from the backseat as Claudette unfolds the paper map.
“I estimate another eight to nine hours of driving,” she says eventually.
“How about we don’t stop to sleep and take turns driving through the night?” Cat suggests.
Claudette and I both agree immediately, eager to put as much distance between ourselves and Halifax as possible.
The sun is tracking low in the sky when we reach the next town. Cat spots a shopping mall and parks as close to the entrance as possible, just in case we need to make a quick getaway.
“I hope they’ll let us in, given the way we smell,” I say, sniffing Claudette’s clothes when I get out of the car, stretching my arms out above my head.
Cat scrunches up her face. “It is quite offensive.”
She scans the area, then her eyes light up. “Wait here.”
She disappears into a supermarket and reappears not five minutes later, holding a bottle.
“Deodorant,” she declares, spraying us with a scent that claims to be lavender and vanilla.
I cough and squeeze my eyes shut.
It masks the stink somewhat, though I’m not convinced lavender and garbage is a winning combination.
“Come on, girls,” Cat says, clapping her hands. “Let’s see if we can be out of here in fifteen minutes. Grab what you need to stay warm and a couple of changes of clothes. Meet at the checkout. We’ll get food and toiletries after.”
We split up as soon as we enter the store, though Claudette and I head in the same direction.
I jog to the women’s section. This feels like a leg of the Amazing Race, complete with a shopping challenge. Grab essentials, don’t overthink, move fast.
Only checking sizes and ignoring appearances, I load my cart with thermal underwear, panties, bras, long-sleeved shirts, sweatpants, jeans, a puffer jacket, beanies, gloves and scarves.
Have I forgotten anything?
I scan the shelves when my eyes land on a man a few aisles over, watching me with open curiosity.
He’s tall and muscly, with dark hair and features that are unmistakably Italian. My heart stutters.
No.
He wouldn’t be one of Tiero’s men, right?
Cat was certain no one followed us. Tiero can’t know we’re here. He just can’t. He chased the diversion cars.
Still, something about the way the man stands there, not pretending to browse, makes my skin prickle.
Stop it, Ella. Italians live everywhere. You’re spiraling.
I force myself to focus on the shelf in front of me. Vests. Yes, one of those would come in handy. I grab the first one in my size and drop it into the cart.
I need a bit of everything. What I’m wearing right now is literally all I own, aside from the small backpack holding my new ID. The thought sends a strange hollow feeling through my chest, one I don’t have time to unpack.
Shoes. I’ll need warm boots, and socks.
How much time do I have left? I don’t even have a watch or a phone to check.
Rushing to the shoe department, I grab the first suitable pair and sit down to try them on. There’s nothing worse than blisters.
They fit.
I grin to myself and mentally congratulate my efficiency. I’m rocking this speed shopping challenge.
When I look up, my stomach drops.
The dark-haired man is there again, watching me with what looks like amusement. When he notices my gaze, his mouth curves into a smile and he winks.
All the color drains from my face.
I grip the edge of the bench, my pulse thudding in my ears.
He’s following me.