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But it was going to take time for her to put it out of her mind.
Amtrak Lake Shore Limited, somewhere between Chicago and New York
May 19th
Lisa leaned back in her seat, staring blankly out the window as the train sped along to its destination.
It had been two days since Julie was killed, and she was still a trembling wreck. She’d never get that image out of her head—Julie lying on the ground, crumpled, blood pouring out of her head.
Dead.
“Concentrate on the book for a while, and turn your nightmares off.” Miles Parker, who was sitting across from Lisa, clicking away on his laptop, leaned forward and tapped on the textbook. “You’ve got to get that whole ACE Personal Trainer Manual down pat and be ready to take the test by the time we hit Manhattan and jump on that train to Upper Montclair.”
“You know I can do it, no problem.” Lisa turned her head to look at her oldest and closest friend with tortured eyes. “We’ve both seen a lot of stuff, Milo, but seeing someone murdered right in front of me? That was something I’ll never get over.”
“Shh,” Milo said, glancing quickly around. “I know. And you will get through it. I’m here now to make sure of that. But we can’t talk about this in public, remember?”
“I remember.” Lisa glanced down at the manual on her lap.
“Good girl…Julie.”
Julie.
Milo had worked fast and hard to transform Lisa’s identity in a mere forty-eight hours.
He’d waited until the crime scene had been cleared away. Then, he’d taken the house key that Julie had given to Lisa and casually let himself in. He’d brought a cardboard box with him and gathered only the things he needed—Julie’s laptop, checkbook, a bunch of photos and personal papers, the ACE manual, some personal trainer books, and a few personal items, such as costume jewelry and three new Lycra workout outfits to start Lisa out.
Beforehand, he’d rifled through the stuff Lisa had taken off Julie’s body. Her cell phone had all her contacts in it. Her wallet was pay dirt. It contained her driver’s license, social security card, credit cards, and ATM card. As a lucky bonus, Julie had kept a cheat sheet with all of her passwords to every account. Milo could have found a way to get that information—eventually—but this way it meant they could get away faster and without tedious hacking work.
God bless Milo. He’d been Lisa’s protector since they were kids in the foster care system. They’d always been close, whether or not they were living in the same home. Although being separated didn’t happen often. They’d always fought to be a “package deal” as they’d moved from foster home to foster home—and more times than not they were successful. Lisa was a brat, and Milo was always her sidekick, not to mention intervening whenever she was being punished, so he was far from a favored child. Letting him go was a no-brainer if it meant getting rid of Lisa.
As an adult, Milo still was a loner. Most people thought he was odd, and maybe he was. With a genius mentality that translated into being socially awkward, and interests in advanced scientific theory and children’s cartoons, he walked to the beat of his own drum. Add to that a mop of unruly light brown hair that always looked unbrushed and a perpetual attire of jeans and oversized graphic T-shirts that swallowed up his lanky frame—well, let’s say he never really fit in.
Except with Lisa.
She’d always recognized how gentle and kindhearted Milo was, understood him on a level no one else seemed able to, and fully got how brilliant he was. He’d find the right answer to every problem. He’d certainly found one to this catastrophe.
He had a computer brain from the get-go.
He’d always found part-time jobs throughout high school, helping people troubleshoot and fix their laptops. He also could hack into anything to get whatever information he needed.
And now, as an adult, he had a good, solid job with Dell computers as an online tech support guy—where he could deal with people without actually being in their presence.
Even though both Lisa and Milo had agreed to test their independence by renting separate places to live in, Lisa had run straight to Milo after the shooting, and he’d stashed her away in his tiny studio apartment. He’d held her while she sobbed, made her something to eat even when she wasn’t hungry, and given her his bed while he camped out in his sleeping bag. He knew what was at stake, who Lisa was afraid of and why. And he knew that she had good reason to be.
When she was calm enough, he’d given her instructions, which she’d followed to a tee. She’d taken the cash that was in Julie’s wallet and gone to a salon on the other side of town, where she’d gotten a haircut and highlights. She’d then picked up colored contacts to change her eye color from hazel to golden brown.
It was enough. She looked startlingly like Julie.
Milo had done the rest. He’d searched the Internet, exploring dozens of cities and towns across the country, until he’d found exactly what they needed: a small local gym that was rent-to-buy in Upper Montclair, New Jersey.
The woman who needed to unload it was moving to Europe and required an instant transaction. So she’d settled for a modest monthly rental with the hopes that Julie would be purchasing the popular gym in no time. It was in the heart of a yuppie area, near mass transit to Manhattan, and included in the deal all the newest and most extensive array of training equipment.
So Milo and Lisa were on their way to a new life.
“Thank you,” Lisa murmured now. “For everything.”
“I’ll take some home-cooking as my payback.” Milo winked, his gaze returning to his computer. “Plus, it’s a cool opportunity for me. I’ve never been to the Big Apple or to New Jersey. And my job is certainly transportable—as am I.”
