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“C’mon, kid.” He grabbed her arm, pulled her into the garage and slammed the door. Mel hustled Alexis toward the car, pushed her into the passenger’s side. She flopped onto the seat like a ragdoll. Mel shut the door, hurried round to the driver’s side, started up the car and left the garage with a squeal of tires.
Jessica
I stopped scanning pages to take a break. When I’d first written these words, they’d poured onto the page in such a rush, I was sure they’d prove upon later inspection to be a bunch of crap. But they felt right somehow, possibly because Alexis’ situation (even though it was fictional) seemed worse than my own.
Mel had surprised me. A minor character had suddenly grabbed the spotlight. Don’t ask me why. He just did. Somehow it seemed to fit.
I felt chilly and a bit light-headed, as if re-reading and reliving these words in my head had been like vomiting. Or maybe it was just having been drugged and being up after midnight.
And, if I’d been looking for solutions in my writing, they were still eluding me.
I turned on the TV again, hoping to find a good movie to help lull me to sleep so my body could regain the proper circadian rhythm.
As I flipped through the channels, I once again hit CNN and stopped briefly to see if I were being featured. Instead, I saw a photo of the Golden Gate Bridge and heard the news anchor say they were closing it as a precaution against a purported threat.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Kevin
He rubbed his hands with glee. Jessica had no idea what she was up against. And neither did the authorities.
Selby’s death had been unfortunate but unavoidable. Nonetheless, the group had the benefit of his knowledge, so his death didn’t really matter. A huge disaster was in the works. The group’s operatives were doing a masterful job of misdirecting everyone, sending the FBI and CIA chasing their own tails, like cats on cocaine. And Homeland Security was equally clueless.
Wait ’til they find out what’s really up, he thought. And little did they know, the clock was ticking. Just as it was for Kevin.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Jessica
My first thought was of Mom and Dad. They lived in the bedroom community of San Rafael and often ventured into San Francisco. The Golden Gate Bridge would be the most logical way in for them.
It must have been a serious threat for the authorities to shut down the bridge. There were other bridges one could take, but the route was substantially longer. And the traffic would be a commuter nightmare. The ferries would make out well.
Fortunately, my Dad could telecommute and Mom worked as a librarian at the College of Marin in Kentfield, so she didn’t have to cross the bridge. I was grateful for that, plus the fact that San Rafael is 30 miles north of the city.
I changed the channel quickly, trying to put the matter out of mind. I already had enough to worry about. I didn’t need to dwell on disasters that might befall my parents.
After a time, I finally landed on a channel with a movie. An old one, from the looks of it. I turned the sound low enough to hear it, but soft enough so it wouldn’t keep me from drifting off. Eventually, I did just that.
I woke to hear the phone ringing. It felt like I’d been asleep for only ten minutes, but the light shining through the crack in the curtains told me otherwise.
I picked up. “Hullo,” I croaked.
“Jessica? It’s me.”
It took a moment to register who “me” was. “Hi Cyn. I guess it’s breakfast time, huh?”
“Jessica, what have you done?”
Those words jolted me awake. “Huh?” I said. “I explained about finding Fred, right?”
“This isn’t about Fred. I’m talking about that man yesterday. Who was he?”
“Uh.” I was stumped momentarily, then did a mental head smack. Selby. Shit.
“The man at Navy Memorial. It’s all over the local news.”
Good God. How many more people were going to see me fleeing murder scenes? According to my research, eye witness testimony is so unreliable. Yet, here I was being identified all over the country.
