We’re already at the end of the corridor.
Already on the service road.
Already running.
Ryan is close to me and Tristan is at my flank. The night air is cold and the carnival is behind us and theservice road curves toward the tree line and I don’t look back.
I don’t look back because I know what’s behind me and I know what’s ahead and I know this town now, I know this territory. I know I’m not running away. I’m running toward.
Ryan leads us to the pack house.
Tristan makes tea as soon as we arrive.
Archer and Jack arrive soon after.
I sit at the kitchen table with the mug in my hands and the four of them arrange themselves in the room. They are managing their own reactions in order to manage mine. I let them do it because I’m running on emergency instincts and it’s not enough for everything simultaneously.
“Tell us what you know,” Ryan says.
So I do.
I tell them the full version.
Not the deflected version, not the layered version I’ve been constructing and reconstructing for three weeks to make it manageable in my own head. The actual version. Amber, the fifteen years of friendship. How she walked me into the bank explaining it as an item on her to-do list. I had no reason to doubt this because I had no reason to doubt her.
How I handled equipment she’d already arranged for me to handle. How there were cameras at every angle she’d mapped in advance. How she put her voice in my ear afterward telling me to run.
I tell them about the three states I ran through. The burner phone. ‘The borrowed’ car. The four hundred dollars that is now closer to two-fifty because Sweetwater Valley has been feeding me and housing me for two weeks.
I tell them about Amber’s partner, Daniel, whose involvement I’ve inferred from the logistics of the frame and was largely confirmed by the private investigator, Margaret Finch.
I tell them how I gave all the information to my lawyer friend who is trying really hard to clear my name and build a case to take to the police on my behalf.
When I’m done the kitchen is silent. The quiet that follows something big being put on a table. It requires a moment to be looked at.
“The partner,” Ryan says. “You’re sure about him?”
“Someone ran the equipment on the technical side. The camera angles were deliberate, the timing was too clean for one person. Amber’s skilled but she’s not technical.” I feel the warmth of my mug in my hands as I take a breath. “Daniel Marsh has a history of being involved in crime like this.”
“Which means he knows what he’s doing,” Archer says.
“Yes.”
“And the law enforcement presence tonight,” Ryan begins. “You think they caught up with you?”
“They were looking for me. It couldn’t be for any other reason.” I’ve been running this since the bridge. “Someone must have tipped them off.”
“Maybe it was a credit card transaction? Your phone?”
“I haven’t used any of my cards. Everything has been cash only. My phone is a burner phone, new three weeks ago and not registered with any personal details.” I pause. “The car?”
Ryan looks at Archer.
“Plates,” Archer says. One word.
“The plates are borrowed with the car.” I close my eyes briefly. “Which means whoever’s tracking knows the plates and knows this is the car I used to get away.”
“They’ll keep looking until they find it,” Ryan says. “Now they know you’re in the area.”
