Tumbledown (10 page)

Dumping the pots in the sink to deal with later, Sarah watched sunlight tentatively lick at the edges of the yard, as the tallest of the trees swayed in the breeze. She wondered whether it would be too hot tomorrow for her and Lyssa to study outside. Today she would vacuum, or maybe clean the tiles in the bathroom: anything to take her mind off the fact that she would be alone in the cabin once night drew in. Alex regularly worked night shifts, but that was different somehow. A night shift never dragged her hours away across the county and never left Sarah feeling so vulnerable.

She picked up Alex’s bag and carried it out to the Silverado. Tilly followed so closely that Sarah had to weave to avoid stepping on her.

“Neither of us can go with her,” she said, crouching to rub Tilly’s ears.

“Okay.” Alex walked toward them. “I am minty fresh and good to go.” She displayed her teeth in an outrageously forced grin, making Sarah laugh.

“Phone me when you get there,” Sarah said, wrapping her in a tight hug. “Or before then, and at any point in between.”

Alex chuckled. “Be back before you’ve even missed me.”

They both knew it wasn’t true. Sarah shook her head hopelessly. “How on earth did we end up so bloody codependent?”

“You fell for my charm, good looks, and skill with a needle and thread.” Alex kissed her. “Be safe.”

“You too.” Sarah pushed her gently toward the truck. “Go on.”

She watched Alex turn the truck in a broad circle and give a final wave before driving slowly down the track. When she went back into the bedroom to get dressed, she found a single pink rose on her pillow, with a slip of paper bearing the words: “Miss you already.”

*

It was cooler this far north, the heat tempered by pleasant breezes and lacking the energy-sapping humidity to which Leah was accustomed. They had traveled for almost twenty hours, arriving at the quaintly furnished holiday cottage in the middle of the night. Caleb had left again at first light to meet with his contact, taking the rental car and giving Leah no estimation of when he would be back. She had been alone in the cottage all day.

Looking out from the porch, she could see only thick forest. Huge firs gave the air a moist, fresh scent, but they crowded in on the small clearing, leaving it completely shadowed. The track from the access road was concealed by a tricky curve that night blindness and exhaustion had almost caused Caleb to misjudge when they first arrived. A welcome pack left by the owner of the cottage spoke of its retreat-like nature, which presumably explained why there was no telephone. During lulls in the evening chorus came the distant lapping of waves on the lakeshore, but there was no obvious path through the trees, and Leah was afraid that if she went looking, Caleb would return to find her wandering and ask her why. The irony of her situation was not lost on her; she was free to do as she wished, but unable to go anywhere.

The sun was beginning to set, the sky splashed with glorious tones of orange and pink, but she turned away from it and walked back into the kitchen. Earlier, thinking about the baby, she had forced herself to eat, and she knew Caleb would expect a meal whenever he came in. As she was fixing sandwiches, the back door slammed and he strode into the kitchen, looking confident and excited. She wiped her hands on a towel, waiting to see if he would tell her anything. On the night of their wedding, he had taught her to be wary about asking questions.

He picked up a sandwich and chewed a mouthful deliberately.

“Nice place they got out here,” he said. “Their land drops down to the lake. They lock their gate, like that makes a difference.”

“He took you out there?” She thought she was safe enough to ask that, since Caleb obviously wanted to boast.

“Just about knocked on the fucking door. I could’ve done it tonight, but he reckons the other one is out of town till tomorrow, and where’s the fun in that?”

She tried to join in the joke, tried to agree with him, but couldn’t get anywhere close to pulling it off. She turned to pour him a drink instead. He wanted the women to suffer together, and that was too awful a thing for her to dwell on.

“Only gonna get one shot at this,” he said. “We get there in good time and we can follow the bitch right through the front door.”

She stared at him, hoping she had misunderstood. “Your contact.” She put a hand on the table, aware that she was swaying slightly. “Is he not going to help you?”

His fist twitched, and for a second, she thought he was going to strike her. She flinched involuntarily, the reaction conditioned by years of abuse.

“My contact’s a fucking cop,” he spat. “This is as far as he goes.” He touched her cheek with calloused fingertips. “No, baby. I think we should keep this in the family.”

*

“Oh no, don’t, Tilly. Don’t eat that. It’s got chocolate in it!”

Sarah somehow managed to clap her hands, clear the kitchen of dog and cats, and keep hold of the phone at the same time. In her ear, Alex’s laughter was faint and tinny.

“It’s not funny,” Sarah said, stooping to pick up the other brownies she had dropped. “They’re bloody tag teaming me.” That just made Alex laugh harder. “I won’t save you any if you keep this up.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Even with the poor signal, Alex managed to sound reasonably contrite. “What time’s Lyssa coming over?”

“About an hour. She’s bringing her uniform and going straight to work from here.”

“Sounds like a plan. I should be on my way home by then.”

“Now that really does sound like a plan.”

“Yeah?” Alex said. “I thought so too.”

Sarah closed her eyes, picturing Alex’s face. “You should go,” she told her reluctantly. “They’ll be out looking for you if you hide in the loo any longer.”

The previous day, Alex had called during a lunch break, but today, not wanting to interrupt Sarah’s study session, she had sneaked out of one of the group exercises.

“I guess you’re right.” She sighed directly into the receiver, the transmitted sound deep and mournful.

“I am right. Go on. I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight. Save me a brownie.”

“I already have.” Sarah heard Alex cheer and took that as a cue to hang up.

By the time she had cleaned the kitchen, scrubbed brownie mixture from beneath her nails, and gotten her books together, Lyssa’s SUV was slowly weaving through the potholes on the driveway. She scooped up the picnic rug and went out to meet her.

“Not too early?” Lyssa shouted from the open window as the SUV shuddered to a halt.

“Nope, right on time.” Sarah spread out the blanket and then went to help Lyssa, who was staggering across the grass, her arms laden with books, a bag, and something that looked suspiciously like a severed limb.

“Dare I ask?” Sarah gingerly turned the appendage over. It was an arm: fleshy and realistic, with multitudes of tiny holes scattered along its prominent veins. Someone had taken the time to paint its fingernails bright red.

“Thought we could have a play with IV access, if we get bored,” Lyssa said. “I borrowed some stuff from the training room.”

“Bloody hell, don’t get yourself in trouble.”

“Naw, I actually asked this time, now that you’re all famous and everything.”

Sarah laughed. “Yeah, right. You want a drink?”

“Sure. Something cold. Need any help?”

“I made lunch. Come and carry some out with me?” When she pushed open the screen door, a flash of movement caught her eye. “You little shit!” She chased Bandit away from the quiche, ignoring Lyssa’s giggles. As she picked him up to take him outside, he dug his claws into her wrist.

“Ooh, ouch,” Lyssa said, holding Sarah’s wrist to the light to assess the damage. “Get it rinsed off before you catch cat cooties.”

“I don’t know why we put up with him.” Sarah winced as cold water hit the scratches. “If his little sister didn’t think the sun shone out of his arse, I’d take him into the middle of the woods and leave him there.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No, I don’t,” she conceded. She passed the quiche to Lyssa and packed the remainder of the picnic into the cooler. “Besides which, he’d only find his way back. He—”

“Hey, hey, you’re gonna ruin this!” Lyssa had stopped by the kitchen table. Sarah went to peer over her shoulder to see what had caught her attention and found her flicking pieces of grated cheese from the local newspaper.

“Why hasn’t Alex already gotten it framed for you, anyway?” Lyssa asked. “Hell, she even gets a mention on page two.”

“Jesus,” Sarah whispered. For a second, she couldn’t do anything but stare at the front page. Lyssa had unfolded it to display the prominent lead story in all its glory:
First responder saves life of newborn baby.
The color photograph accompanying the feature was the one taken by the midwife, with Sarah in the center of the shot, facing the camera and smiling broadly. Originally folded with the back page uppermost, the newspaper had lain unread on the table for two days, or was it three days now?

“You said Alex gets a mention?” She tried to make her question sound natural, but Lyssa must have detected the quaver in her voice because she turned around.

“Yeah, page two. They covered the raid,” she said. “You okay? You’re as pale as a ghost.”

“Fine, I’m fine.” Sarah forced herself to smile, but it felt wrong, as if her lips had just twisted in response to something sour. “Not used to being a celebrity,” she said, struggling to think through the possible ramifications. The newspaper had a Web edition, which meant that her image would now be online together with her and Alex’s first names. She thought of the vast array of technological equipment found by the FBI during its searches of Nicholas Deakin’s compound, and wondered how much of it had remained undiscovered, how much his people had managed to salvage before the raids. Castillo had warned her and Alex explicitly: no Facebook or any of the other social network sites, no images in e-mail attachments, and they should stay off the Internet as much as possible. They had done exactly that, keeping e-mails to a minimum and chatting with Ash and Tess through anonymous accounts, avoiding mention of names or locations or anything else that might identify them. They had done everything he had told them to do; they had been so damn careful. It had been bad enough worrying about Emerson, but now the floodgates might have opened: anyone might have seen this paper.

“Shall I bring it out so you can read it?” Lyssa was still looking curiously at her.

Sarah nodded automatically to cover her lapse, then shook her head. “No, it’s okay. You go on out. I’ll just be a minute.”

She took up the newspaper and waited until she could see Lyssa sitting on the grass with Tilly.

“Come on, Alex, answer your damn phone.”

Alex’s cell rang out before switching to voice mail.

“It’s me. Call me as soon as you get this,” Sarah said, and then realized how frightening that must have sounded. “Don’t worry,” she added hurriedly. “Something came up and I need to talk to you before you set off home. Love you.”

She wanted to tell Alex about the paper before she left the hotel, so that she could be vigilant driving home, aware that someone might be out there looking for her, but as Sarah ended the call, she wondered whether she had overreacted. Looking out onto a sun-drenched lawn, she watched Tilly chase a ball for Lyssa, and the terror the photograph had instilled in her began to wane. She would speak to Alex about contacting Castillo, who might be able to tell them the likelihood of anyone tracking them from a single image. Now that she considered it logically, that seemed almost impossible. Feeling calmer, she splashed her face with cold water, picked up the cooler, and went out to join Lyssa. For the time being, at least, she could pretend that everything was normal.

*

Caleb drove in silence along a narrow strip of deserted road. His contact had shown him a barely used route that weaved between large tracts of forest, affording Leah glimpses of sunlight sparkling on a lake that stretched for miles. Unsure exactly what Caleb was planning, she had left nothing behind at the cottage. He had told her to wipe all of the surfaces, though that was something she would have done anyway. Other people would have arranged to rent the cottage—honeymooning couples or families with children—and she wanted no trace of Caleb or herself to taint their vacation.

The air conditioning was blasting out at full strength, but she could feel herself sweating. Her thin cotton shirt was damp at the back, the material so cold it was making her shiver. In contrast, her cheek was hot and swollen where a fresh bruise throbbed. She didn’t remember why he had punched her, only the crack of pain and the smirk on his face. He seemed long ago to have stopped needing a reason.

The turn was difficult to spot, but he obviously knew where he was going. He took a left onto a rough one-lane road, heading away from the sun, leaving the interior of the car dimly lit in hues of green. Huge trees lined the track, so close at times that branches scraped along the car’s windows and bodywork. The forest provided a security barrier of sorts, but after approximately a mile and a half, there was also a large metal gate on sturdy concrete posts. It took Caleb less than five minutes to pick its lock. When he set off again, he drove more slowly, his eyes continuously flicking to the right as he searched for something. Leah saw it at the same time he did: a natural gap in the trees that was large enough to pull into and would conceal the car from anyone driving past. Satisfied with his position, he put the car into park and lowered the windows. She could hear nothing but the creak of branches moving in the wind. Breathing in the scent of warm earth, she tried to ignore Caleb as he pulled out a handgun and strapped a Bowie knife onto his belt.

“He figured she’d be back in about four hours,” he said, and Leah nodded, her eyes seeking out the clock on the dash. “You’re gonna flag her down, say you had an accident.” His thumb stroked across the newly marred skin on her cheek. “Sure do look the part.”

“What do I do then?” she whispered.

He smiled, baring his teeth. “Then you leave the rest to me.”

*

Sarah put down her cell phone when she heard Lyssa coming out of the bathroom. Alex still hadn’t been in touch, but her course was due to finish within the hour, which would fit in conveniently with Lyssa’s departure for work.