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“When we get back to headquarters in New York City, my colleagues will discuss your options with you.”
More police cars start to pull up. Officers get out and draw yellow tape around the gas station.
“I gotta talk to my colleagues,” Jason tells me.
“They stole my phone,” I say. “I need to call my boyfriend in LA to tell him I’m okay.”
“I have an extra burner in my car,” he says. “Hang on.”
He walks to his car, pops open the trunk, pulls out a burner still in the store’s plastic packaging, and walks it back to me.
“Here,” he says, handing me the new phone. “Never been used.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“I’ll be back soon,” he says.
“Okay.”
He walks toward the other officers, and I call Eddie, who immediately picks up. “Hello?” He sounds worried.
I panic, scared that the agent stationed in front of his house is a fake and might’ve hurt either of them.
“Are you and Sarah okay?” I ask.
“We’re fine, but I’ve been trying to call you for hours and couldn’t get through. Are you all right?”
Thank God they’re all right. I can’t tell him what’s happened—it’ll worry him more. “Yes, I’m okay,” I say.
He breathes an audible sigh of relief. Then he says in a rush, “The person you’re dealing with isn’t Paul, Beans. I was on Instagram this afternoon and saw pictures Anthony posted of Paul and him with Paul’s dad at the hospital, so I immediately reached out to him. Turns out someone stolePaul’s phone and keys right before they got on the plane, which means I’ve been texting with someone else. Thankfully, Paul sent out his colleague to my place before he left, so the guy guarding my place is legit. But whoever picked you up at the airport isn’t Paul. They probably work for the Cadells. Did you ever go back to Paul’s place?”
“No,” I say, trying to sound as normal as possible.
“I’m so sorry, Beans,” he says. “I had no idea.”
“It’s not your fault,” I say, feeling guilty. He’s beating himself up for not knowing that I was dealing with an impostor, while I went to DC behind his back, and I’m now keeping from him what’s happened.
“The FBI has locked down Paul’s place. He and Anthony are heading back from North Carolina now. Where are you?”
“I couldn’t find a flight back to LA until the morning and decided to stay at my mom’s old roommate’s place,” I lie.
“You’re calling from her place?” he says. “I don’t recognize this number.”
I swallow hard and muster another lie. “I picked up a burner to be safe,” I say
“Smart,” he says. “I’m so glad you’re all right. Call me when you get to the airport in the morning. I love you.”
“I will,” I say. “Love you too.”
We hang up, and Jason walks back to me. “Time to go back to Manhattan,” he says.
We get in his car. Billy Joel’s greatest hits play in the background as he drives.
I look out the window and register how I’m feeling for the first time in hours. I’m thirsty, I really need to use the bathroom, and I’m so tired.
I want to go home to my old life, but this nightmare is far from over. I don’t even know if I can trust Jason. I think he’s on my side, but after everything that’s happened today, I’m not sure I can trust anyone.
“What did you mean about securing me protection from the Cadells?” I ask again.
