Wrong Number (14 page)

“Remember who you are.” He handed her a silver cell phone. “I want you to call me on speed dial three when you’ve made contact at the airport. Then throw this phone away. There’s another in your purse, and I’ll tell you what to do with that when you call.”

“Thanks for everything, Jason.” Aubree slipped the phone into her purse and checked to make sure she had everything she needed.

“No problem. Thanks for doing this.” He smiled at her and Scarlett. “Keep your chin up. We’re going to get to the bottom of this.”

“I’m counting on it,” Aubree said. She smiled at him and walked away, humming a lullaby to Scarlett to keep her mind occupied. She didn’t want to think about trusting Jason with her frightening future or about the fact that the FBI still didn’t know who she was running from.

T
WELVE

T
HE FLIGHT TO
D
ENVER
, Colorado, was uneventful. Aubree studied all of the passengers for anything out of the ordinary. When she noticed how tightly she gripped the arm rests, she recalled the relaxation techniques she’d been taught and plastered a smile on her face. Scarlett was very cooperative on the airplane, sleeping most of the way, and Aubree held her breath, praying she would stay asleep.

It would have been nice to take a direct flight to Omaha, but changing things up a bit would make it harder for her to be followed. The airport in Denver was crowded. Aubree clutched Scarlett with a firm grasp and hurried to her boarding area. The agent sent to tail her hadn’t introduced himself, but Aubree felt like she was being watched.

As she walked around a wide pillar, a man bumped into her, sending her off-balance. She cried out as another man ripped her carry-on bag from her shoulder and took off running. As she fell toward the hard ground, Aubree curled around Scarlett and screamed. Just before impact, she felt someone behind her, breaking her fall.

“Stay right where you are. I’ll be back.” The man who’d caught her disentangled himself and ran down the corridor of the airport.

Aubree remained in a heap on the floor, terrified of what this meant. People stopped and stared, and although only seconds passed, Aubree felt like she was on a stage, with everyone looking at her. The blood pounded in her head. Had they found her already? Did the man steal her bag as some sort of signal so she could be eliminated? Scarlett wailed, and Aubree held her close with shaking arms.

“Miss, can I help you?” An airport security officer held out his hand. Aubree took it and allowed him to lift her to her feet.

“That man stole my bag,” she stammered.

“He didn’t get far. One of the other commuters knocked him down.” He began writing on a clipboard. “Let’s get a report filed for you. What’s your name?”

“My name—I—” Aubree stared at him. His pen was poised ready to write, but she couldn’t remember her cover name.

“That won’t be necessary. She’s not pressing charges.” The man who broke Aubree’s fall ran toward them. His face was red, and he breathed heavily, but he held her carry-on.

“What—” Aubree started as the man pulled out a badge.

“Agent Stokes, FBI, and I’ll be filing those charges.”

The security officer lifted his eyebrows and smiled. “Good then. Guess I’m done here.”

“Thank you. Your perp is handcuffed, and security detail will transport him,” Agent Stokes said. He turned to Aubree. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head and felt the tremors of fear running through her body.

“Now, don’t fall apart on me. It was just some idiot thief.” He smiled and two dimples appeared on his cheeks. “Come over here and sit down.” He directed Aubree to a waiting area and sat beside her.

It seemed like she was a blinking target for trouble, and her knees were trembling with the effort to stay calm. Scarlett stopped crying, and Aubree took some deep breaths. “What if he wasn’t just a thief?” She gazed around the terminal. The minor interruption was over, and everyone moved swiftly through the corridor again. “Why did you leave me?”

Stokes leaned toward her and whispered. “I’m sorry, but I knew you weren’t alone. There’s a ghost on the lookout for you—I knew you were covered.”

“You mean there are two of you?”

“Yeah, but we didn’t want you drawing too much attention to yourself by trying to find out who we were.” He winked at her. “Are you going to be okay?”

Aubree nodded. She felt someone watching her and lifted her head. It was a woman. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she stood by the escalators. Aubree watched her go up the escalator, but
the woman didn’t look back. Maybe it had been her imagination, but she thought the woman had averted her eyes just as Aubree had looked up. Something seemed familiar about her. Aubree chewed on her bottom lip and squinted, but the woman was gone.

“Let me help you get on your next flight. We’ll be taking some extra precautions in case we’ve been compromised.” Agent Stokes lifted her carry-on and walked beside her through the terminal.

Aubree tried to resist looking over her shoulder—she still had a feeling she was being watched. Then she remembered the other agent following them and told herself to stay calm.

When her plane touched down in Omaha, the anxiety in her stomach felt like boiling acid. Agent Stokes stayed in her peripheral vision as she walked briskly to the baggage claim. There was a man holding a sign just as Jason had said there would be. Aubree walked toward the bright blue ITEC letters on the sign and smiled. “Do I have time to use the restroom before we go?” she asked, trying to keep her voice from squeaking.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied in a southern drawl. “Let me help you with your bags first.”

Aubree pointed out her suitcase and handed him her carry-on, and he pointed to the restroom. She kept repeating
act normal
, and
stay calm
in her head. She called Jason when she was in the bathroom stall.

“You made it.” He answered on the first ring. “I talked to Agent Stokes. How are you holding up?”

“Good,” Aubree whispered. “Now what?”

“You’re going to ride with your contact to a hotel, switch cars, and then you’ll be driven to your new home. There will be two other agents tailing you the whole way, and your home is under surveillance. Remember to throw this cell phone away and call me on speed dial three from the other phone when you get to your house.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you soon, I guess.”

“You’re doing great. You’re almost there,” Jason said.

Aubree shut the phone off, popped the battery out, and, after washing her hands, wrapped it in some paper towels and threw it in the garbage can. She carried Scarlett back into the noisy airport and followed her driver outside.

Everything happened exactly according to plan, and Aubree relaxed a bit after they switched cars and headed out of the city. By the time they
reached her new neighborhood, Scarlett was hungry again, and so was Aubree. The driver pulled into a single driveway surrounded by leafless, tangled rosebushes covered in frost. He handed Aubree a bag that contained a set of keys and a garage door opener.

The high pitches of the roof reminded Aubree of a quaint English cottage. The house was painted Wedgwood blue with white shutters around the front windows and window boxes underneath.

She walked tentatively up the front steps and pushed the key into the lock. It clicked, and she opened the door slowly. Stepping inside the entryway, she appraised the sitting room. It had large windows. The furniture didn’t look brand new, but it exuded a comfortable air. She bounced Scarlett lightly as she walked into the kitchen. It opened up to a cozy breakfast nook that overlooked a back yard covered in snow.

“There’s a lot of snow here for February,” Aubree said to the driver, who was carrying her suitcases.

He nodded. “Yep. It’ll be here for another month at least.”

Aubree stifled a groan. “Thanks for bringing those in.”

“There are more boxes in the garage. Would you like me to bring a few of them in?” He motioned to a door off the kitchen that led to the garage.

“That would be nice, thanks.” Aubree followed him and peeked at the neat stack of boxes waiting to be unpacked. They were filled with clothes she had ordered for herself and Scarlett and a few other belongings. It was all new. There was nothing connected to the memory of her old life. The boxes were piled in front of a green SUV that Devin would’ve gone nuts over. Aubree knew the FBI had provided this vehicle with four-wheel drive in case she had to travel in the snow. It was ironic she would be driving the type of vehicle Devin had always dreamed of.

She turned around and walked back through the kitchen to the short hallway leading to a bathroom and two bedrooms. The rooms weren’t overly large, but they seemed comfortable. A crib was set up in Scarlett’s room along with a changing table and a rocking recliner. Aubree was grateful that so much thought had been given to her welfare.

“I think that’s about all of the boxes, ma’am.” The driver indicated the neat pile he had carried into the house. “Can I do anything else for you?”

“No, thank you so much.”

“All right, then. Enjoy.” He waved at her and let himself out the front door.

Aubree locked the door and carried Scarlett, who was wailing now, into the nursery. After checking her diaper, Aubree sat in the recliner and fed her baby. Scarlett immediately calmed down and gulped noisily. Aubree rocked for a few minutes and then pulled out the second cell phone. Once again, Jason picked up on the first ring.

“You’re in place?”

“Yes. It’s very nice. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it. You may be there longer than we originally hoped.”

“What?” Aubree sat up suddenly, and Scarlett whimpered in protest.

“We’re getting closer with the information we have,” Jason said, “but I got another report of someone looking for you. Someone who isn’t connected to our arms dealer.”

“But what does that mean?”

“It could mean that we’ve been barking up the wrong tree altogether, or it could just be a deliberate ploy to get us off his back. I don’t know, and I can’t share all the details,” Jason said. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not what you’d like to hear, but I wanted to tell you so—”

“—So I’d be grateful I’m living in the witness protection program?” Aubree sighed.

Jason chuckled. “Yeah, I know. Wishful thinking.” He cleared his throat. “The fridge and pantry are stocked. All of your utilities are set up on an automatic payment plan. You shouldn’t have to worry about anything for now.”

“What about keeping in touch with my mother?” Aubree asked. “How will I know she’s safe?”

“She’s safe. There hasn’t been any other suspicious activity. We’ll work something out. You may be able to send letters through our agency. I’m not sure, but I’ll be calling you on this cell phone every three weeks with an update on your case. If you need me or have questions, hit speed dial number three anytime.”

“Okay, I will.”

“Remember to follow protocol. Okay, Jolynn?”

Aubree hesitated only a split second before answering. “Yes. That’s Mrs. Dobson to you.”

“I’ll talk to you in a few weeks,” Jason said, and Aubree could hear a smile in his voice.

She closed the phone and murmured, “I don’t know who I am anymore, Scarlett, but I’m so glad I have you.”

Scarlett nuzzled into Aubree’s chest, and within a few minutes, they had both dozed off. Aubree dreamed about Devin. They were walking together down the streets of San Diego pushing a stroller with a dark-haired baby. Then she heard a gruff voice calling her name. She turned and saw a horrible man chasing her. He was screaming something about a body.

She woke up in a sweat. Her eyes darted frantically around the darkened room. Then she remembered she was in Nebraska under the protection of the FBI. Only, it seemed she could go halfway around the world and still not escape the voice that had taken Devin from her and stripped away her identity. She held Scarlett and sighed. Would she ever feel safe again?

T
HIRTEEN

I
T WASN
’
T SUPPOSED TO
be this long,” Aubree snapped. “You told me I’d be here for two or three months—it’s been five.” She gripped her cell phone and stared out the front room window. The roses flourished in the late-June heat.