In Plain Sight (7 page)

Two hours later, the group sat back in their chairs and stared at Pearl. Not with anger or frustration but with
admiration bordering on awe.
No one said a word. Only because none of the people in the room knew what to say. It was Kathryn who got up, walked around to where Pearl was sitting, and held out her hand. “I honest to God don’t know of another person in this whole world who could have done what you’ve done, Pearl. Please, I’d be more than honored to shake your hand. I think we all now understand where you are truly coming from.” Instead, Pearl reached up and hugged Kathryn so tight, she squealed.

“Don’t you feel better now, Pearl, since you shared all of that? We can help. We
will
help,” Myra said. Pearl nodded, but she still looked miserable.

“It’s getting late. I say we call it a night and pick up tomorrow morning where we’re leaving off right now,” Annie suggested.

“Who’s staying over?” Charles asked.

It turned out that everyone elected to return to their respective homes with the promise of reconvening at eleven the following morning.

When the last car left the driveway, Charles turned to Myra and kissed her on the cheek. “It was a good day, wasn’t it?”

“It was, Charles. I had no idea Pearl’s underground was as involved and as extensive as it is. I understand the secrecy, but I also understand that if she were to keep on the way she’s been going, mistakes would be made, and those mistakes could have a domino effect. Now that we all have her back, the chances of that happening are just about zip. Do you agree, Charles?”

“I do. So, what would you like to do now, dear? A nightcap? The eleven o’clock news? A last walk with the dogs? Maybe a midnight snack?”

“Oh, Charles, that’s all so boring. Why don’t we throw caution to the winds and race each other up the stairs. I have it on good authority, from a dear old friend of mine, that ripping off one’s partner’s clothes with one’s teeth is very exciting!”

Charles was at the top of the steps gnashing his teeth before Myra could even catch her breath.

Chapter 6

J
ason Woods was a hard worker. His supervisor at the Home Builders Depot wished he had six more employees like Jason Woods. A dozen would be even better. He watched Jason now as he unloaded hundred-pound bags of peat moss like they were five-pound bags of sugar. He wasn’t smiling today, which was odd. In fact, he looked angry. He wondered if he should talk to him, but he hated getting personal with his help. Better to leave well enough alone, he decided. He was going to miss him when he left in August to return to college even though he said that he would work weekends if his schedule permitted. He moved off to check on another delivery of topsoil.

Jason knew that his boss was watching him. He must be giving off bad vibes or something. How could he not? He’d just allowed himself to become embroiled in what he was beginning to think of as a nasty domestic mess, but his gut was telling him it was something way worse than domestic violence.

The tall, well-built young man swiped at the sweat dripping down his face. Damn, it was hot. But, then again, it was mid-July. He looked at his watch. Four more hours till quitting time. Home to shower, change, grab something to eat, then make the two-hour ride to his family’s cabin, where he’d stashed the two women.

Jason almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hard push to his shoulder. He whirled around expecting to see law enforcement but instead saw the laughing face of Emily Appleton’s friend, Stacey Copeland. “Hey, Jason!”

Jason removed his Redskins ball cap and swiped at his soaking-wet head. “Hey yourself! Things so boring in the paint department that you had the urge to smell peat moss and manure?” He laughed, but even to his own ears it sounded phony and forced.
And who are those two women standing by the wilted petunias? They’re staring at me and trying to pretend they aren’t.
His heart kicked up a beat.

“Something like that,” Stacey said. “Hey, what’s up with Emily? She hasn’t been in for four days, and she hasn’t called in either. She isn’t answering her cell phone. Since you two are you know . . . kind of an item, I thought maybe you might know what’s going on. Do you?” she asked bluntly.

Jason swallowed hard. He shook his head. “I haven’t seen her. I tried calling yesterday, but the call went to voice mail. And we’re not an item, we’re just friends,” he lied.
Who is that young guy checking out the clay pot planters? He looks familiar.
He almost missed the look the two women shot his way and the young guy’s almost imperceptible nod. The muscles in his stomach tied themselves into a knot. They were together, he was sure of it. And they were checking him out. Shit, shit, shit! He could feel the panic starting to build in his stomach inch its way up to his chest, causing him to gasp for breath. He broke out into a cold sweat.

“Can you take a break, Jason? I’m on mine. Let’s go get a cold soda or something. I’m worried about Emily.”

Not half as worried as I am,
Jason wanted to say, but he didn’t. Instead, he waved to his supervisor and said he was taking his break. He followed Stacey to the back of the store to the employee kitchen or what they called the break room, where he popped two bottles of cola and offered Stacey one. He gulped at his, his mind racing a hundred miles a minute. What to say, what not to say, how to look, how not to look.
Stop sweating,
he cautioned himself. Like that was possible.

Stacey Copeland eyeballed her friend, concern etched on her face. “You look funny, Jason, is anything wrong? By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask, did you register yet for fall classes? I was thinking of going over to CU after I got off work. Want a ride?”

“I’m okay. Haven’t been sleeping well these past few nights. Our A/C is out,” he lied with a straight face. “I’m working till four. That’s if I hold out that long. My stomach is kicking up. I might leave in a little while. I need the hours, but if I’m going to be puking my guts out, I’m no good to anyone here.”

Stacey gave him a look that said she wasn’t buying anything he’d said. “Hey, Jason, this is me. We’ve been friends since our first day at CU. You can talk to me. I even got you this job. If something is wrong, maybe I can help. C’mon, Jason, open up.”

“You sound just like my mother does. I told you, nothing is wrong. I’m not feeling 100 percent, so ease up, okay?”

“Sure, no problem. You’d tell me if Emily dumped you, right?”

“Emily did not dump me,” Jason said through clenched teeth. “I told you, we’re just friends.”

“Ha-ha, yourself, Jason. That’s not what Emily told me. She told me you two are more than best buds. A lot more,” she fibbed, hoping to get a rise out of Jason. “Don’t you dare hurt my friend, Jason. If you do, you’ll have to deal with me. I’m going out to her house before I go to CU and see what’s wrong. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, pal.

“Just for the record, Jason, I hate it that you’re lying to me. I know when you’re lying because your left ear turns red, and it’s red as a beet right now. So there!”

Jason watched as the tall redhead stomped out of the kitchen and back to the paint department. He finished his Coke and threw it in the trash bin. He hated it that he’d lied to Stacey. But in the scheme of things, what other choice did he have at the moment? None. He felt like crap.

Back at the loading platform, Jason eyed the bales and bales of peat moss that still had to be unloaded. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the two women who had been eyeing the wilted petunias. They were on to the last of the flats of Gerbera daisies, which looked just as sorry as the petunias. The young guy had moved from the clay pots to the retractable hoses.

They were on to him. He could feel it, sense it in every pore of his body.

Jason swiped at his forehead again and walked over to where his boss was talking to a customer. He waited until the customer walked away. “Mr. Quincy, I’m afraid I have some kind of stomach bug. I have to leave. I’m sorry if I’m leaving you shorthanded, but I’m about to pass out here.”

“Sure, Jason, go on home. Take off tomorrow if you’re not better. We can manage. Take care of yourself. Don’t forget to punch out.”

“Thanks, Mr. Quincy. I appreciate it.”

There was no way to get out of the gardening department without passing the two women and the guy checking out the hoses. Where did he screw up? What had he done wrong? Were they following him? How in the hell did they find him to begin with? He didn’t have to pretend to be sick. He
was
sick now. He had to call the girls, but he’d given them his cell phone since they were afraid to use their own. He hadn’t had time to get a new one. Well, shit, there was a phone in the kitchen. He could call his cell from there. Whoever was following him didn’t have access to the kitchen. He could punch out and leave by the back entrance that a lot of the employees used. He had to act normal, do things the way he always did them. Shit, shit, shit. This spook stuff was not something he was good at. And from where he was standing, it didn’t look like he’d get any better at it anytime soon.

Jason looked around to make sure the kitchen was empty. It was. He quickly called his cell. Emily picked up on the first ring. He spoke quickly, explaining about Stacey’s seeking him out, the three strange people in the gardening department, and finally explaining that he was leaving.

“But I don’t understand,” Emily said, panic ringing in her voice. “How did you come under their radar? Think, Jason!”

“That’s all I’ve been doing, Emily. I guess I screwed up somehow. I’m sorry. Look, I’m going home to change and shower. I’ll leave right away and come pick you up and take you somewhere else. Don’t make any calls on that phone. They can triangulate or something to find out the pings. I’m not up on all that stuff, but I do know they can track cell-phone usage. I probably shouldn’t have called you now either. Sit tight, okay?”

Jason was standing under a steaming shower when the answer to his question rocked him back on his heels. Facebook! Of course. His whole life was on Facebook. He’d even bragged about his new friend Emily. Thank God he hadn’t told Emily about that little indiscretion. He’d even posted a picture of her. How could he have been so stupid? Maybe because he was starting to think of Emily Appleton as a little sister who needed help and who wasn’t really Emily Appleton at all but someone named Rosalee Muno. He didn’t even want to think about Patricia Olsen and who she was married to.

Jason was shaking like a leaf in a rainstorm when he stepped out of the shower.

He had to be smart now. Really smart. If they, whoever
they
were, found him at the Home Builders Depot, then they knew where he lived. They had probably followed him home and were waiting outside somewhere to follow him when he left. Smart. Think smart, he cautioned himself. How was he going to get out of the apartment without anyone’s seeing him? His two roommates were still sleeping since they worked the night shift at one of the big hotels. That meant their vehicles were in their assigned parking spaces. He could take one of their cars and leave his for them. They were good enough friends that they wouldn’t squawk, especially if he left a ten spot for gas. He quickly scribbled a note, left his keys on the counter, and pocketed Joe Cramer’s keys. He left a ten-dollar bill on the counter, scribbling another short note asking both roommates not to talk to anyone if they came around asking questions. It was all he could think of to do.

Now he had to figure out how he was going to get out unnoticed. He lived on the third floor. He looked out at the small balcony, then across at the one next door. He was in good shape. He should be able to hop over, then jump down and hit the ground running. Unless they had people stationed around the back. He peered out the sliding doors but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. He shrugged. It wasn’t like he had any other options at the moment. It simply came down to go or not to go.

Poised on the minibalcony, Jason closed his eyes. Man, he was so not ready for this. Before he could wallow in his own self-pity, he took a flying leap and landed perfectly. He took a deep breath and moved on to the next and then the next until he was four units away from his own. Then, before he could think twice, he dropped to the second-floor balcony, then the first, and finally landed on solid ground.

He’d lived in the apartment complex going on four years, so he knew the property like the back of his hand. He raced across and between cars until he found Joe’s Saturn. He unlocked it and sat there a moment, trying to catch his breath. When he had his breathing finally under control, he drove away, around the Dumpster, and out to the service road. Finally, he turned onto the highway. He drove, literally holding his breath as he kept his eyes glued to the rearview mirror. As far as he could tell, no one was following him, but he was the first to admit he didn’t know what to look for. The same car following him for miles, he supposed.

Jason drove aimlessly for a while, through villages, through neighborhoods, then out to the main artery and, finally, to the Beltway. He was reasonably sure no one was following him. He drove for almost an hour before he hit a small mini shopping mall, where he stopped at a drugstore to buy two TracFones. He paid cash.

Jason’s next stop was an ATM machine. Even he knew he could be tracked for making a withdrawal, but if he was going on the run, he needed money. He hated that he was taking his tuition money, but at the moment, he couldn’t think of any other way to get money quickly. Four stops later he had over a thousand dollars in his pocket. Then he backtracked all the way to his apartment parking area, where he plugged in the TracFone, programmed it, and then blocked the number so he could call his cell again to give the women an update. He was getting pretty good at this spy stuff, he decided.

Jason set out again, this time going in the opposite direction. As far as he was concerned, he’d done all he could. Now all he had to do was let his mind wander to his Facebook page and all the silly nonsensical things he’d posted, like the stupid oaf that he was. It was true what his elders had been preaching: Once it was out there, it was there for the whole world to see, and the whole world as he knew it was seeing it in all its glory, his whole life story. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Two hours later, Jason barreled up to the cabin and stopped on a dime, the brakes squealing and protesting. He was out the door before the engine stopped sputtering. The women looked at him, and he could read the panic on their faces. “C’mon, get your gear, we’re outta here. Shake it, ladies.” The women didn’t need to be told twice. They had their canvas bags over their shoulders and were at the car within seconds.

“I need to reset the generator and shut down the pump and lock up. Did you wipe everything down that you touched, and I mean everything? Ten minutes tops.”

“We did just what you said,” Rosalee called to his retreating back.

“Good!” Jason bellowed in return.

“Whose car is this?” Amalie asked.

“I have no clue, but if I had to take a guess, I’d say it probably belongs to one of Jason’s roommates. He switched up so it would be harder to follow him. God, Amalie, what happened? I thought we were safe.”

“I’ll tell you what happened. It’s our own fault. Mine actually. You just did what I told you to do. We never should have bolted. When we didn’t call in the way we were supposed to, 001 saw the red flag.”

“The lady that runs the underground railroad. Is that what she’s called? You never said she was 001. Why can’t we just call her now and meet them somewhere so they can find us some place safe?”

“It doesn’t work that way, Rosy. Didn’t you pay attention when we first got there when they told us what the rules were? They said as long as we obeyed the rules and did what they said, we would be safe. To deviate or break the rules meant they were done with us. No second chances. I blew it because I panicked when I saw that tabloid. Now we’re dependent on Jason. He’s now in as much jeopardy as we are, and it’s all my fault.”