Jailbird (20 page)

“Are you going to answer that?” she nodded at
the flashing green light on my phone.

“Answer what?” I looked down at the table in
surprise. Charlie was calling again. I picked it up a little
guiltily.

“Are you trying to give me an aneurism?” he
demanded at the sound of my voice.

“Hello to you, too,” I frowned at the phone
and took another bite of my sandwich.

“Are you okay?”

“I’d be fine if my husband would stop
shouting. It’s giving me indigestion.”

“I’ve been trying to call for hours,” he
seemed suddenly deflated, as if the fear had been propping him
up.

“Sorry, I had turned the phone off, and then
Gabrielle taught me how to silence it so of course I forgot to
un-silence it when we left the library.”

“So, you got in and out of Julie’s okay?”

“Surprisingly well, yes… you know, I think
Plan B is actually her husband. There were pictures up and they’ve
filed tax returns together. Or they had pictures up and she filed
tax returns with someone else,” my musings were interrupted by his
gargled choke.

“Their tax returns? Why do you have their tax
returns?”

“You know what, why don’t I get back to you
on that when I’m done with my research? The seedy underbelly of PI
work is no place for a choir boy.”

“PI work?”

“Private Investigator. Gabrielle and I are
thinking of making a go at our own business when we get home. We’re
pretty good at this.”

Gabrielle giggled and shook her head as if to
say “Mothers—what can you do with them?”

“I don’t know if I’m happy or irritated that
you’re in such good spirits.”

“Be happy, it’s more fun that way. Look, I
can’t really talk now. Can I give you a call in an hour?”

“Why can’t you talk?” worry etched his
voice.

“Because I’m sitting in Waffle House; I
promise we’re okay.”

“Alright, then,” he seemed somewhat
mollified. “One hour… I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I ignored Gabrielle’s eye
roll and went back to eating my waffle with zeal.

All teasing aside, I meant what I said. It
probably was best that Charlie not know what I was up to for now.
He was a bit of a mother hen—even more so now that I was
pregnant.

As much as I hated to spend the money, we
called a cab to take us back to the motel. I didn’t have all day to
walk back and I was tired. The down side to the cab was it allowed
me time to think. As I watched the traffic give way to dormant
hayfields, it made me miss home. Home and Charlie—and missing him
made me feel guilty about keeping my activities from him.

So I filled him in on my day as Gabrielle and
I sorted the copies into stacks on our bed. He wasn’t happy about
the risk I’d taken, but I seemed to catch a glimmer of hope in his
voice for the first time in a while. My heart broke at the tension
in his voice. I wanted nothing more than to wrap him in my arms and
hold him at that moment. But what he needed most wasn’t my caress;
he needed to find the truth about why Julie had reappeared after
all those years.

I’d assumed she realized what a fool she’d
been and wanted Charlie back. But knowing that she’d been married
for at least four of the past five years made me think any flirting
she’d done with Charlie was intended to put him off his guard.
She’d been after Cara all along. Something in my gut told me it
wasn’t out of motherly devotion, though. And it certainly didn’t
seem like her husband wanted Cara.

“Looks like Plan B has a name,” Gabrielle
mentioned. “I think I’ve heard the name Nathan Smith before.”

“Smith is a pretty common name,” I
shrugged.

“No, I mean I know I’ve seen this name since
we’ve been here,” Gabrielle turned on the television and turned
back to her sorting.

“Join KY3 tonight at 10 as we sit down with
local attorney Nathan Smith to discuss rumors that our favorite
child-advocate will run for the soon-to-be vacant seat in the
United States Senate….”

“That’s just eerie,” I shook my head and
sighed.

“Told you,” Gabrielle informed me smugly.
There would be no living with her now.

Chapter Nineteen

As I watched the story at 10, the pieces
started to fall into place. Julie found herself a lawyer with a
drive for success this time. As he prepared to make his move into
the limelight, someone must have told him that an abandoned
daughter in his wife’s past wouldn’t go over well in the polls.
They were getting custody of Cara so they could spin this in the
media.

I glanced over at Gabrielle, who had fallen
asleep sometime during the weather, and grabbed the phone from its
charger to call Charlie.

“Hello?” his groggy voice told me I’d woken
him up.

“Hey, I know why Julie wants Cara. Plan B…
Nathan… her husband is planning to run for senate.”

“State Senate?”

“U.S. Senate. And one of the things he’s
known for is being a child advocate.”

Charlie was silent for so long I thought he
was gone.

“Charlie?”

“Just trying to get a hold of my temper.”

“If you occasionally wanted to let it loose
that’s okay, you know. It would make the rest of us feel better
about ourselves.”

“What do you think we should do next?
Threaten to call the media?” Charlie ignored my comment. It was an
odd time to notice it, but I was flattered that he asked my
opinion. It felt more like we were… partners.

“You’re in no position to be calling the
media, not with me yoked around your neck. You need good dirt on
her, not just he said/she said kind of stuff.”

“I assume you are planning on finding that
dirt no matter what I say, aren’t you?”

“Actually, I might stop if I thought you
really wanted me to. But you don’t, do you?”

“No. God help me, I want you to find
something that will shut her up for good.”

“I’m trying,” I promised. “I’m going through
her tax records tomorrow. Then I’ll start on her email.”

“How did you get her email?”

“Sweetie, just work on the case law. Leave
the dirty stuff to me.”

“I feel completely and totally emasculated
now. Thanks.”

“I’m a wanted felon whose only legal
experience wasn’t exactly productive. Please allow me the one thing
I can do to help. Is there anything new going on there?”

“It’s late baby… why don’t we talk about this
tomorrow?”

“That good?”

“It’s no big deal, really.”

“So then you won’t mind telling me now,” I
reasoned.

“Daniel Winslow made a statement today.”

“Really?” my heart hammered my throat.

“He’s offering a reward… and calling for the
death penalty if you’re caught.”

“The death penalty for escaping?”

“You hit the other inmate over the head with
a skillet. He’s saying it shows that you have an MO.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.
The only MO I have is an aversion to being attacked. And that
inmate lived. Rachel Cooper said so.”

“I’m not saying they’ll change your sentence.
I’m just telling you he’s made a statement. He’s reminding people
that you killed an important man.”

“It’s the same as with Julie… we just need to
find a way to smudge the spit-shined façade. Once I’ve got her
figured out, I’ll start working on him.”

“No,” Charlie startled me with his stern
growl.

“But I….”

“No… please no. If you love me at all,
no.”

“We’ll talk about it later,” I conceded.

“You won’t go without talking to me?”

“Promise,” I could at least give him that
much.

“I miss you,” his voice gentled.

“I miss you, too,” that seemed like the
understatement of the year—the yearning to be near him was so
strong it was a physical need. “I’d better get some sleep or there
won’t be anything left for breakfast by the time I wake up. Give
Cara our love.”

“Same to Gabrielle. Good night, baby.”

“Good night, mon ange,” it was more than a
term of endearment. Charlie really was my angel. He brought light
into my world again. I was determined to hold tight to him until
this darkness passed.

Maybe my morning sickness had passed, but my
hormones were still completely out of whack. At least, that’s what
I told myself as I cried until dreams finally laid their claim.

The next day was spent holed up at the hotel
reading old tax returns. I might have dozed off a few times, but
given the content of my reading material, I figured I was
justified. Gabrielle tended the horses for me. I think she was
worried about the dark circles under my eyes. I tried to reassure
her I was fine, but she was having none of it.

By dinnertime I was sure of two things. I
needed pizza, and there was nothing that would help me on the tax
returns. Halfway through the second slice, it occurred to me that
what wasn’t on the tax returns might be helpful. I set my plate
aside and went to retrieve the stack of bank statements.

As little as Julie seemed to care for her
house, she was meticulous about her money. It seemed odd that she
kept bank statements showing money that wasn’t recorded on her tax
returns in the same file cabinet, but I guess she never thought
someone would come in her house and prowl through her files. Sure
enough, there were several bank statements that showed substantial
deposits not on the returns. Even fishier, the deposits all seemed
to come from the same overseas account.

I might not be smart enough to connect all of
the dots, but I knew Charlie could get to the bottom of it now that
he knew where to look. I gathered the pages I needed from the tax
returns and the statements as I dialed Charlie’s number.

“Is everything okay?” he answered the
phone.

“Yes, sunshine. Everything is wonderful.
What’s your fax number?”

“You found something?”

“I think so. Give me your fax number and I’ll
send it now. It’s a start, anyway,” I jotted down the number he
gave me and gave Gabrielle and impulsive kiss on the forehead.

“Good job, Mom,” she encouraged.

“I’m going to see if I can fax this from the
motel office. I’ll be right back,” I slid on my shoes and nearly
skipped to the office.

“May I help you?” the woman was friendly
enough, if not a little skeptical of the skipping 32-year-old
Native American in short pig tales.

“Could I possibly use your fax machine?”

“Is it local?”

“Sure,” I lied.

“It’s right there,” she motioned to the
machine sitting on the far side of the office and turned her
attention from me.

I sang “Rainbow Connection” a little loudly
to cover all of the beeps as I entered a decidedly not-local number
and hit send. I quieted down guiltily when she glared at me. There
were quite a few pages and it was an ancient machine. My eyes
roamed the room, reading little motivational sayings and old Family
Circus comic strips taped to the wall to kill time while I
waited.

And then my eyes landed on a forgotten cork
board on the far wall. Along with the “Have you seen me?” posters
of children was an honest-to-God wanted poster… with my name and
mug shot on it.

I stared in disbelief, rooted to the spot.
Why? Why me? There were much worse criminals on the loose. Wasn’t
there a most-wanted list frolicking free out there somewhere? Why
not put their poster up?

The machine ground to a halt and I startled,
looking around the room as I pulled my papers from the tray. The
woman’s eyes were on me, narrowed—or was I imagining that? Had she
seen me staring at the poster and figured it out?

I smiled and thanked her, willing myself to
walk calmly from her office and back to the room. The second the
door closed behind me I flew into action, throwing things into our
packs with little thought to neatness.

“Someone found us, huh?” Gabrielle sighed and
started putting her shoes on.

“Pretty sure,” I nodded, grabbing my piece of
pizza so I could finish it while I gave the room one last look.

“Go tack the horses; I’m going to try to
check out.”

Gabrielle nodded, swinging her pack over her
shoulder and going to do as told.

“Wouldn’t you know it? I got a call from
work… gotta head home,” I smiled sweetly at the woman, pretending
not to notice her discomfort. “Can I settle our bill?”

The woman handed me the paperwork and
fidgeted while I signed the credit card slip. Her husband joined us
in the room, inching closer and closer to me as I handed her the
keys and pocketed my card. I could feel his presence and knew he’d
grab me if I tried to leave the little room.

I reminded myself that it was very admirable
that he was playing the hero, and immobilized him by whirling
around and kicking him in the groin instead of hitting him over the
head—as was apparently my style.

The second his knees hit the floor, I dodged
his fumbling grasp and darted out the door. Gabrielle was waiting
on the front lawn with our horses. I swung onto Daisy’s back and
kicked her into a lope with Gabrielle right behind me. First chance
we got, I needed to find an ATM so we could pull the remaining cash
off the card I’d used to pay for the motel. It was just a matter of
time until that card was frozen and the money was lost
otherwise.

Gabrielle and I exchanged meaningful looks.
We’d miss the beds. We’d miss the shower. We’d miss the pizza.

Chapter Twenty

If Todd Winslow was terrifying, he learned
the art from his father. Their family was from money so old no one
seemed to know where it came from anymore. For as long as I could
remember, rumors had circulated that they amassed their wealth in
the slave trade. That seemed like a fitting story to me.

Truth is, when someone has a fortune that
big, people don’t really care what it’s from. In my mind, the
danger from being rich for as long as anyone can remember is that
you run the risk of forgetting you’re mortal just like the rest of
us.