Finding Abigail (20 page)

Goodbye

I was up at five
in the morning going over the plan. Since my options were slim on places to
hide, I was in the bathroom, poised on the closed toilet seat with a
flashlight. The door was locked so if Nick woke up and needed to go, I could
stash my notebook under my shirt and slip out without him knowing a thing. But
thankfully, he stayed asleep. I made my final plans without interruptions.

At six, I went
out to the kitchen and put the coffee on. Then I took out my fake list of
things to do for the wedding. He got out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen
wearing only boxers. “What are you doing up so early?” he asked sleepily.
Although his chest was toned, it no longer appealed to me. How could I like
anything about a man who uses his hand to hurt a woman?

“Getting an
early start on the wedding plans. I think I’ll go this afternoon and scout some
venues.”

His smile was
crooked and his eyes were shining as he stepped over. “There you go, that’s
more like it.” He almost took my life last night and he woke up in a good mood.
He kissed me quickly on the lips, and then went to pour himself some coffee. “I
have to hurry. I have an early day.” He disappeared with his coffee into the
bedroom, and ten minutes later, he rushed out, not knowing he’d never see me
again.

Not long after
he left, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see Sylvia standing in
the hallway. Her hair was up in a bun, purse tucked under her arm, and she was
wearing a silver-blue dress. “Good morning, Sylvia, what brings you by this
early?” I asked, holding the collar of my robe closed to hide the red marks
that were just starting around my neck. I peeked out in the direction of the
elevator to make sure Nick was gone. Satisfied with the empty hallway, I closed
the door and gestured for her to come in.

She didn’t
move, just stood by the door. “I wanted to come by and tell you that I’m going
to stay with my daughter for a few weeks.”

This was
strange for a few reasons, for one, she’d never told me before when she was
leaving, unless she left the city, and then she would ask if I could pick up
her mail. The second, she had told me she hated staying at her daughter’s,
because of her yappy shih tzu that never stopped barking. But I wasn’t in the
mood to question her. I needed to get moving and didn’t have time to stand
around chatting. “Oh, well, have fun.”

Instead of
turning toward the door as I had hoped, she stepped forward and yanked down my
robe. I was wearing a tank top and boxer shorts, but my state of undress wasn’t
the issue. She was staring at the marks on my neck, and a bruise that was
fading on my shoulder.

Shocked by her
sudden move, I gaped at her. “Sylvia, what are you doing?”

She reached
into her purse, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to me. “Open it.”

Despite my
confusion, I did as she said and read the few lines that were written neatly on
the paper:

Abby, I know
what is happening and I feel you have to leave. In the envelope is a key to my
cottage in Shimmer Lake. Please go there as soon as you can. You can’t let him
do this to you. You can stay as long as you like. You can live there forever if
you need to, just go.

I will miss
you,

Sylvia.

Be safe.

I raised a brow
in question.

“Thin walls,”
she whispered.

The key lay at
the bottom, the address written on the key chain. When I looked up at her, her
face was set. She was determined for me to do this. I didn’t know what to say.
Besides my locket, it was the best gift I had ever been given. All I could do
was smile.

She nodded and
then pointed to the envelope. “Well, I better be on my way, I have to finish
packing.”

I knew then
what she was doing. Because Nick was a cop, she was worried that Nick might
have the place bugged or something. Although I didn’t think it was, I wouldn’t
be surprised. Nothing he did could shock me now.

I hugged her
tightly. “Thank you,” I whispered in her ear, as I breathed in her scent of
spearmint. It was the last time I would see her.

She pulled away
with a wink. “I have to go,” she said, opening the door. She smiled as she let
herself into her apartment.

As soon as the
door was closed, I got to work. My plans had been to go to Canada and find a place once I arrived, but this was better. I had an actual destination, and now it
was time. I packed the few items of clothing that I hadn’t put in my car. Put
my paper files in a suitcase and saved the electronic ones from my laptop onto
a USB stick. Then I deleted everything. Once that was done I shoved the disk
into the computer that held a virus and pushed download. I had found a hacker
named Ziggy and paid an enormous amount to ruin my own laptop, but I couldn’t
take it with me for fear that Nick had a way to track it. He knew how important
it was to me. All my books and future manuscripts were on it. I was more upset
to leave it behind than I was to leave the man I was supposed to marry.

After I dressed
and put my hair up, I took off my engagement ring and set it on the dining room
table. Then with two suitcases and my purse, I left my apartment for my new
life.

My first stop
was the library, where I had been working on their public computers. I brought
up my bank account and transferred the remaining money into an account I had
set up for my niece and nephew. The rest of it was in cash and traveler’s
checks I plan to place in a new bank when I reached my destination. The next step
was to toss the cell phone—I threw it into the garbage on the side of the
street. Once inside my car I called my mom with my new disposable cell that was
hidden in the glove compartment. “Hello,” she answered.

“It’s time.” It
was all I said, but I knew she’d understand.

“Oh, sweetie, I
love you so much.”

My eyes burned
with the threat of tears. “I love you too. Tell everyone I’ll miss them.” My
voice shook with all the emotion in me.

“I will, dear,
goodbye, and be careful.”

“Bye, Mom.” As
I hung up, I could feel a tear threatening to fall. I fought it back.
This is
a good thing, I’m finally free
.

I drove for
about two hours and then pulled into a deserted parking lot just outside of
Wollesville. I parked alongside a blue Volkswagen. There was a guy leaning
against it. He was tall, about thirty-five, with brown hair and wearing worn
work boots, jeans, and a white T-shirt. He pushed away from the car as I turned
off my ignition. “Are you Anna?” he asked, leaning in my window. His breath
smelled of garlic.

I nodded,
feeling nervous. “Yep. You Clarence?” Clarence and I met on the Internet, on an
auto trading site. I had exchanged a few emails with him using the library’s
computer and a fake email account.

“That’s me. Are
you sure you want to do this?” He stepped away to admire his new vehicle. “Your
Camaro is worth a lot more than my car.”

I got out and
started moving the suitcases from the trunk. All of my possessions were now
reduced to five suitcases and two boxes full of stuff. “I don’t want the car,
you do; it’s an even trade as far as I’m concerned.” I piled everything on the
ground next to his car and stood up. “You got your papers?”

“Yep, right
here.”

He opened the
trunk of the Volkswagen as I looked at his papers. Everything looked good, so I
handed over the ownership of my car.

He grinned as
he stuffed the papers into his pocket. He glanced down at my belongings. “Need
some help?”

“Sure, if you
don’t mind.”

As he bent to
pick up the biggest of the boxes, he glanced at my arm—there was a bruise on it
from where Nick grabbed me—and then his gaze moved to my neck. I thought the
marks were covered, but apparently I was wrong. His eyes narrowed in concern.
“You running from someone?”

I ignored his
question and lifted the suitcases into his car. “You might want to get a paint
job and new plates.” I paused, looking down at his. “Are these the plates you
were talking about?”

He nodded.
“Yep, they won’t lead back to you or me,” he answered. “Your car isn’t stolen,
is it?”

I turned around
as I was shoving cases into the backseat of his car. “Would I have the
ownership if it was?”

He chuckled,
digging his boot into the gravel. “I guess not.”

After
everything was transferred we exchanged keys, and he took off down the deserted
road with the first thing I bought with the money I made from
Wendy’s Wish
.

My fingers
hovered over the keys that fit perfectly into the ignition. When the magnitude
of what I had done suddenly overwhelmed me, I sunk back in the leather seat,
thinking of my mother’s slightly wrinkled face. At fifty-six, she only had a
few lines around her eyes. Would I ever see her age, ever see each new wrinkle
or age spot and worry about her health? Would I see Justin graduate college, or
sit in a wooden pew wearing uncomfortable shoes while Haley walked down the
aisle to her waiting groom?

Tears poured
down my heated skin as I sobbed over the loss of each memory that would never
be mine. I sat in the car and mourned for my former life as the hot sun baked
in through the windows, creating droplets of sweat dripping down my face,
mixing with the tears. I sat in the empty parking lot until the sun dipped
lower in the sky.

Sometime later,
with my throat burning and tears drying, I thought of a time in the fifth grade
when I decided to stop my piano lessons. My parents were disappointed, but
instead of yelling at me for wasting their money, they calmly told me that it
was my decision, my life, and all they wanted was for me to be happy. So with
that in mind, I sat up in the cushioned hot seat and turned the forgotten key.
The engine purred to life. With one last swipe at my tears, I pulled onto the
road, toward my new home and a life I hoped would bring me the happiness my
parents wanted for me.

Shimmer
Lake

The nice lady with the smooth voice on the
GPS told me that it would take five hours to get to my destination. I drove
fast with the windows down and the stereo blaring—I felt free.

I stopped to eat
at a diner that was located in a very small town called Star Creek. I pulled
into the almost empty parking lot and went in. A bell jingled signaling my
entrance as I stepped inside.

The air was
stale, smelling of burnt coffee. There were only a few booths taken, a family
consisting of a mom, dad, and two boys who were fighting over ketchup. An older
couple occupied two stools at the counter feeding each other pie. The woman
giggled as the man placed the fork into her mouth.

In the back
booth I saw a guy sitting alone. He was wearing a faded denim jacket, his black
hair spilling out under a red baseball cap. He saw me staring at him and
nodded. I made my way over feeling uneasy. At the booth, I sat down and faced
him. My hands lay flat on the Formica table, shaking slightly, but the guy
didn’t seem to notice. He only watched my face curiously, his lips turned up at
the corners. Up this close I noticed his skin was tanned and leathery, with
lines creasing his face. He looked like he was used to working out in the sun.
“You got my email,” I began, pointing out the obvious.

He nodded his
head. “I did. Kind of short notice, don’t you think?” His forehead wrinkled
even more.

“Last-minute
decision, but you told me they were done.”

He slumped into
the booth, relaxing. “Yeah, I’ve had them ready for a week,” he explained,
taking out an envelope from inside his jacket and handing it to me. I looked
inside and saw each of the papers I would need—driver’s license, birth
certificate, passport, and social security card—all with the name Anna Smith.

“Perfect.” I
reached into my purse and tossed him my envelope.

He opened it,
sifting through the contents, his lips moving as he counted. “It was a pleasure
doing business with you,” he said with a small smile and a firm nod. With that
he got up and walked out of the restaurant. Heads lifted as the door jingled
his exit.

The waitress
came over and took my order. After she left, I breathed a sigh of relief. The
most important and unfortunately illegal parts of the plan were finished. I had
been so nervous when I had contacted that guy. I didn’t even know his name. I
was afraid he was a cop and this was a setup. I had found him through another
writer who had done research on fake IDs. The writer’s name was Eric and I told
him that I just wanted the contact info for an upcoming book. I had been
worrying constantly about that part of the plan; it was giving me an upset
stomach. I had started popping antacids like they were candy. I learned one
thing through all of this though—I would not make a good criminal. I’d have an
ulcer in no time.