A Girl Undone (34 page)

“You’ll all go to prison if you get caught, all three of you.”

“Not if Deeps wakes up and finds your dad and Gerard out cold over their cocoa. He’ll think you drugged them given your history of taking down bodyguards.”

I pulled away, slightly dizzy
.
Dad and Yates wanted to save me, but if I didn’t testify, Jouvert could walk free, and Yates might die.

“There’s no need for both of us to put our lives in danger,” Yates said.

I shook my head. “You’re wrong. You don’t know everything I know.” Yates hadn’t heard the tape where Jouvert boasted to Sparrow about his deal with the Saudis.

“What am I missing?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Are you saying you don’t trust me?”

“No, of course I trust you. I trust you with my life.”

“Then what is it?”

I can’t tell you what I know, because then I’d have to tell you what I did.

“Avie, think about it. You’ll never get the chance to testify. Jessop Hawkins won’t let you near a courtroom. You don’t have a choice. You have to get out of the country.”

I closed my eyes. If I ran, I might live. But then I’d have to live with everything I’d done. “No, I’m not leaving.”

Yates cupped his hands over my shoulders. “It won’t be bad. Three hours to the border of Mexico. The priest who runs the safe house is a friend of Father Gabriel’s. He’ll keep you safe.”

“I’m not scared to run. That’s not why I said no.”

“You sound like you mean it.”

“I do.”

A faint tapping made me jump. “Avie?” Gerard peeked around the door. “Deeps is asking about you,” he said, exchanging glances with Yates. Yates mouthed “no” and shook his head.

Gerard’s eyes pinched.
I don’t understand.

I know. I’m sorry.

Gerard plucked a photo album off a shelf and set it on a suitcase. “I’ll tell Deeps you’re looking through some old photos and will be down soon.” His face was filled with dread as he closed the door.

“I’m sorry,” I said when Yates and I were alone again. “You guys must have gone to a lot of trouble to arrange the safe house.”

Yates shrugged. “We love you.”

My heart crumbled, and I wrapped my arms around Yates’ neck one last time. “I love you, too.”

Our kisses said I’ll never forget and I’m sorry. They held lost wishes and unspoken fears. Finally, they couldn’t say any more, and we broke apart. Yates stacked the CDs on top of the album and handed them to me, and we gazed into each other’s faces, trying to find the unbearable words for good-bye.

Then he reached up and drew his thumb down my cheek, his whispery voice giving me shivers. “‘Let the world tell us no—’”

And his eyes held mine as we recited the last lines of the poem together. “‘Love is the rusted fire escape that shouldn’t support our weight, but does.’”

We’d never be together again, possibly never see each other again, but the love we had refused to believe that. We smiled sadly at each other one last time before I walked out the door and locked it behind me.

We didn’t have enough time, not nearly enough. I started down the stairs. I couldn’t hold back my tears and halfway down I had to stop.
You can’t lose it. Hold it together.

Yates was ready to go down fighting. Was I? I wasn’t even seventeen. But Jouvert was coming after me and Hawkins, and I had to help stop him.

I wiped my face on my sleeve before I walked into the kitchen. Dad and Deeps were propping up two gingerbread walls while Gerard piped icing cement into the seam. “How about you put down that album and give us a hand, before this thing collapses?” Dad said.

Hours later, the four of us had piped the last icing detail on the walls and cemented the final green jelly bean to the roof. Deeps helped Gerard load our creation into Big Black so they could drive it over to the hospital the next morning.

Dad took me back inside while the two of them figured out how to secure it in the back. He shut the door to the library and led me across the room before he whispered, “I want you to reconsider our plan. When this story breaks, there could be a violent backlash against the Paternalists, including Jessop Hawkins, and you’ll be caught in the middle.”

“I know. And I’m grateful, really, I am, that you want to do this for me, but no.”

“You’re not going to explain your decision?”

I shook my head.

“Does this have something to do with your friend from school? Deeps said you’ve been upset.”

Dad always avoided emotional issues, so if he talked to Deeps, he was really worried. “I’m not suicidal, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Dad’s shoulders slumped. “You’re awfully damn stubborn.”

“Wonder where I got that from.”

“No idea whatsoever.” Dad sighed. “I’ll see you in a few days.” I must have looked confused, because he said, “Your Signing. Jessop invited me.”

My spine prickled like he’d poured a cup of glass slivers down my back. “Right. Of course.” Then we both turned, hearing Gerard and Deeps in the hall. “I guess we’re leaving,” I said.

Dad opened his arms and I walked into them. Then he kissed me on the forehead. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Dad.”

A few minutes later I was in the chopper. Deeps started up the engine, and Dad waved from the terrace. Gerard’s plastic tub of gingerbread dogs rested on my lap, and the stocking of gifts that Dad picked out leaned against my leg.

I waved as the helicopter rose, watching as Dad got tinier and tinier. This might be the last time he saw me alive, but at least we got to say good-bye.

44

Hawkins returned late that night. He’d headed back from London when Zara’s story was pushed out of the Top Ten by a scandal at the Oklahoma City Fetal Protection Unit, where the head of “Resident Services” was accused of pimping out pregnant girls in his care.

I didn’t see Hawkins then or the next morning. The Signing was tomorrow, and the compound was awhirl in pre-Signing prep. I had to dodge lighting and sound experts on my way to the kitchen, then caterers assessing the venue, and then security personnel keeping watch over them.

I wandered out to the parking circle, where Deeps was overseeing the tent setup. “Don’t you put up a single post or inch of rigging before I inspect it,” he told the crew.

A K-9 unit went past with a dog that was built like a marine, all chest and muscle with short tan fur like a crewcut.
BOMB SQUAD
was printed in big letters across the back of the handler’s jacket. His communicator squawked instructions as he and the dog descended the stairs to the subterranean garage.

I knew I should warn Hawkins about the reporters’ story coming out, but I couldn’t figure out how to explain how I knew. And even if I prepped him for what was coming, could he really convince Jouvert we hadn’t betrayed him?

When Adam Ho buzzed by, I trotted after him. “Is Jessop busy? I need to talk to him.”

“He’s got two lawyers in with him now, then a conference call with investment bankers, and a meeting with the vice president’s security detail after that. He can fit you in around six
P.M.
”

The screech of metal on metal made both of us whip around. Ho swore and took off for the front gate, where the party rental truck had stopped.

Deeps was watching two men in black suits and shades who had walked onto the flat roof. They strode along the edge, pointing and stopping every few feet. I came up beside him. “Who are they?” I asked.

“They’re sharpshooters from the VP’s security detail. We’ve got two hundred very important people coming to your Signing tomorrow.”

I rubbed my goose-pimpled arms. The shooters could easily turn those guns on Hawkins and me. “You really think someone might try to kill the VP?”

“The only person who’d try that here is someone who wants to get caught. A guy who wants his face all over the media, because he wants the fame or because he’s killing for a cause.”

“So why don’t they keep the media out?”

Deeps rubbed his fingers together. “The Almighty Dollar. High-profile Signing like yours means Jouvert gets his face on every Sportswall in the U.S., and he doesn’t have to spend a dime.”

The thought of Jouvert benefiting from my Signing made me sick. I needed to testify about Sparrow and Jouvert, but the chance I would was infinitesimally small. Samantha Rowley didn’t even get inside the court building before she was shot.

But I had something Samantha didn’t have. The vision came to me in full color.

“I’m going inside,” I told Deeps, and almost ran back to my room. Then I shut the door and went right to the closet, where the wall hanging was still in the drawer. I shook it out and laid the bleached silk against my body.

Sig said I’d only get one chance to speak out before the campaign silenced me, so it better be an apocalyptic, despot-toppling, world-changing revelation.
TEOTWAWKI
. The End Of The World As We Know It.

This was the story I needed to tell.

45

I waited outside for Sig, hoping to catch him away from the monitoring equipment. He drove up after the security detail left, and stepped out of his Jaguar, sleek in his blue on blue striped suit and bronze pocket square.

“How was your trip?”
Did you find Luke?

“Interesting.” His lip was split and swollen on one side.

“What happened?”

Sig closed the car door stiffly, as if he was favoring his side. “I’m afraid I entertained some uninvited guests at my motel last night.”

“Are you all right?”

“Bruised, but undaunted. I believe our boy has some very protective friends.”

“He sent people to beat you up?”

“No, I suspect he had no clue what they did on his behalf.”

“I’m sorry, Sig. But you think he’s safe?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me where?”

“No.” Sig paused. “But I think if you saw it, you would agree that he’s in a good place.”

I closed my eyes and saw Luke the way he was in Salvation with his family before the Siege. The calm quiet in his face, the loving look in his brown eyes.
Thank you. Thank you for keeping Luke safe. For taking care of him.

“Avie.”

I opened my eyes. A group of Secret Service men were walking toward us up the drive.

“Let’s go in the house,” Sig said, taking a garment bag out of the trunk. “I’ve got your Signing dress.”

I swung the bag on my finger, and gushed, “Oooo, I can’t wait to see my dress,” as we passed the security detail. “What about those Zanotti heels I wanted? Did you find them?”

Once inside, Sig glanced at the camera in my bedroom, which had gone live again in the last hour, and went right to my walk-in closet. He hung the bag on a hook and zipped it open. “Oh, let’s see,” I squealed for the audio monitor overhead.

The white dress inside wasn’t the little tissue-paper silk I’d tried on weeks ago that had made me feel like a virgin sacrifice.

The wool crepe was cut close to the body, and silver brambles wove over the bare shoulders and edged the skirt. “What are they made of?” I said, rubbing one of the thorny twigs between my fingers.

“Dyed leather, hand sewn.”

“It’s amazing, Sig—”

“But?”

For a moment I thought how easy it would be to wear this dress. But then— “I had something else in mind.”

I handed Sig the wall hanging and watched as Sig weighed the silk in his hand. He contemplated the embroidered cherry branches.
Are you sure?

Yes, I’m sure.

“Well, this fabric would certainly make a statement,” he said.

“Fashion is message, right?”

“Yes, it most definitely is. Hmm. It would be a travesty to lose any of that gorgeous needlework in the tailoring.” Sig took the fabric, pivoted me, and held it up to my waist. In the full-length mirror, I saw how the silk trailed a foot or more behind me.

Then Sig moved the silk up between my shoulder blades. “We’ll dye it pink, perhaps, then go over the stitching with a fine brush in a darker color so it will stand out. Perhaps some crystal details along the branches to direct the eye.”

Draw the cameras to the coded names, and dates, and bank deposits. The bribes. The guilty parties. The foreign powers.

“I think this could be unforgettable,” I said.

“Yes, it is the very definition of unforgettable.”

“There are two places where the embroidery needs to be fixed.” I showed Sig the two branches Maggie left unfinished, then handed him a piece of paper with the stitch code I sketched while I’d waited for him. One branch would reveal Jouvert’s secret deal for nukes with the Saudis and the other would expose the Paternalists’ White Gold Pipeline.

“Luke got the tapes to the reporters,” I whispered.

Sig nodded and pulled in a breath. “Well, now I understand the change of heart. When do you expect the story to break?”

“Soon.”

Sig looked almost sorry for me. “If you want this for tomorrow, I must get to work.”

“Thank you.”

He folded the silk into a small square. “Welcome back to the revolution.”

When Sig left, I felt lighter, as if making the decision was the hardest part of what I needed to do. But I knew that probably wasn’t going to be how things turned out.

46

A short wall of yellow flames whipped between Hawkins and the edge of the terrace. He sat back, legs crossed, silhouetted in one of the webbed chairs that usually stood by the indoor pool. An empty chair waited beside him.

Hawkins’ back was to me, so he didn’t see me walk up. The wind was blowing off the water and I zipped up my jacket. Tiny white lights lit up the mast and prow of a boat motoring past.

“I thought we’d have dinner out here,” he said, as if the whole me calling him a monster thing had never happened.

“Really? It’s a little cold,” I said, sitting down. The sky was blue-black with bands of thin clouds.

“The house is—” He glanced over his shoulder. “I thought we could talk more candidly out here.”

“Right.” Ho had told him I wanted to talk. Maybe Hawkins suspected it wasn’t something he wanted the monitors to hear. I inched my chair closer to the fire. “Why didn’t I know this was here?”