Dead Wrong (6 page)

As he’d passed through security, he’d kept one eye on the case and waited until the path through the security sensor cleared before he even pushed the bag forward on the belt to be X-rayed. He passed through the sensor and waited for the case on the other side. No one had touched it.

Wait. When he stopped to put on his shoes, he set the case on the floor while he tied his laces.
I only have two hands, for God’s sake.

He took a deep breath. The woman with the beat-up face. It had to be her. She had gotten off the plane before he had time to get his case out from under the seat. He glanced at his watch, then used a handful of toilet paper to swipe at the sweat dripping from his nose. Hopeless. Too much time had passed. She’d be long gone.

Sammy left the men’s room and headed for the nearest bar. He placed the case on the table in front of him and glared at it as though it would feel threatened and give up its secrets. A waitress took his order for a burger and fries and a double J.D. While he waited, he removed the folders and studied the papers inside.

Lynnette figured the teenage girl hanging out at the bus station was a runaway. Probably a druggie. She looked about fifteen. Black jeans, black ankle-high boots, black leather jacket, black hair, black lipstick. Pierced body parts—nose, ears, lip. Radical girl hitting up folks for money.

“Or did he take a baseball bat to your face?” the girl said.

Annoyed by the teen’s curiosity, Lynnette still didn’t answer.

“She
says
she wrecked her car.” Grace glanced at Lynnette before continuing. “But my mom says stuff like that when her boyfriend beats her up. I think Lynnette’s boyfriend hit her.”

“Husband,” Lynnette said. “My husband hit me. Now let’s drop it. Do not bring this up again. Ever.”

“Your husband?” The teen raised her eyebrows. “Did you off him?”

“Yeah, I offed him all right. What do
you
think?”

“Honest? You killed him?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Can you spare a few bucks?” The girl held out her hand as though she expected Lynnette to oblige her without question.

“No.” Lynnette ignored the girl’s outstretched palm, which seemed to hover in the air. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Grace hand over a couple of one-dollar bills.

“Thanks, kid,” the girl said. “What’s your name?”

“Delilah.”

“Wow. Delilah, huh? You don’t—”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, we’re not going through this again,” said Lynnette. “Her name is Grace.”

“Hey, Grace. I’m Brittany.”

Lynnette exchanged a glance with Grace, but neither said a word. Grace smirked.

The teen took her hand away, still clutching Grace’s dollar bills, and walked toward the end of the bench. A few seconds later she stood in front of Grace. “I’m just jerking you around. If my name was Brittany, I’d kill myself. My friends call me Blue.”

“Why?”

“Because I am.” Blue tilted her head and looked sad.

“Blue. I like it,” Grace said. “Names are important. They should mean something. Like mine. Grace. Graceful, like a ballerina.” She hopped up and performed a pirouette, made clumsy by her hiking boots.

Blue laughed. “Yeah, like me. Always singing the blues.” She sang the words off-key and laughed again.

Lynnette thought Blue’s laugh sounded a bit forced. She was trying too hard to buddy up to Grace. Blue already had some of Grace’s cash. What next? Her cell phone?

“Listen, I need to talk to Grace,” Lynnette said.

“Sure,” Blue said. “Don’t mind me.”

“I mean in private.”

“Okay. Fine. But I heard you talking earlier. About the train. I can tell you the California Zephyr leaves at eight in the morning, if it’s on time, which it never is. Goes to Emeryville up north, almost to San Francisco. Then you have to take a different train to get to Los Angeles. You need a place to stay overnight?”

Lynnette shook her head. She didn’t want to imagine the kind of flea-ridden dive this girl might suggest.

“There’s a real nice hotel just up the street. Swanky.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Money trouble? No problem. I’m flush.” Blue pulled a wad of bills out of her pocket and waved her hand in front of Lynnette’s face. “You can pay me back someday. And it would be cool staying overnight down here. I planned to take a bus north, but maybe I’ll stick with you two and ride the train. Haven’t done that in a while.”

“Wait a minute,” said Grace. “You kept my two dollars.”

“Hell, yes.”

“I want my two bucks back.”

“Don’t be silly, kid.”

“I’ll call that cop over here.”

“I bet you won’t.”

Lynnette patted Grace on the knee. “Stop it. Grace, forget the money. Beat it, Blue. We don’t need your help.”

“Fine,” Blue said, but didn’t walk away. “Look, if you guys are in trouble, maybe I can help.”

Grace gawked at Blue as though she’d said her toes were webbed. “You?”

“Sure. I have resources.”

Lynnette laughed. “You hang out at the bus station looking like you do and take money from kids. What kind of resources do you have besides that roll of cash?”

“What’s wrong with the way I look?”

“Well, for starters,” Grace said, “you dress like a Goth. The ring in your nose freaks me out. And you take money from kids.”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with the way I look.”

“Yeah, it does. It makes you look like a beggar and a liar.”

“Oh, crap. Here’s your two bucks.”

“Thanks.” Grace stuffed the two bills in her pocket and smiled at Lynnette. “What do we do now? Go to that hotel?”

“Yes.” Lynnette stood up and maneuvered her purse and bags into position so she could take Grace’s hand.

Grace, however, balked. “I want Blue to come with us.”

“Are you crazy?”

“She needs us.”

“There is something else you could do instead of spending the night here,” Blue said.

“What?” Grace asked.

“Take the bus north. Goes to Fort Collins. I live there. You’d get out of Denver tonight, just in case your husband’s looking for you.”

“What time does the bus leave?” Lynnette asked.

“Quarter to twelve.”

“What about me, Lynnette?” Grace said. “I don’t want to go to Fort Collins. That’s the wrong direction. Anyway, she probably sleeps under a bridge and dumpster-dives for food.”

Blue laughed.

“Might be safer in a smaller town, though.” Lynnette glanced at her watch. From the looks of the crowded bus station, she wondered if they could even get tickets.

Grace made a point of looking at the rest of the people in the bus station, then motioned toward Blue’s attire. “I don’t know if it would be safer or not. Just look at her.”

“Don’t be fooled by my appearance, little girl,” Blue said. “I’m a college student and I live in a house with three other girls.”

“Oh, right. People who look like you aren’t students. They drop out before they graduate from high school.”

“Did you ever hear about not judging a book by its cover?”

“They why do you dress like that?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.”

“Come on,” Lynnette said, giving Grace a little push toward the ticket counter. “Let’s do it. We’re better off on the bus than hanging around in downtown Denver at night. When we get to Fort Collins, we’ll get a motel room. I’ll bring you back to Denver tomorrow.”

After buying the tickets, Lynnette, with Grace in tow, walked to the snack bar and sat at a table. Blue joined them a few minutes later. “Get the tickets?” she said.

Grace nodded. “I still don’t want to go. Can’t you come up with a better idea, Blue?”

“I don’t think so. And after that smart-aleck remark about me dumpster-diving, I’m having second thoughts about helping you.”

“See?” Grace said, poking Lynnette on the arm.

Lynnette pulled away. “Stop it, Grace. I can’t think with you two sniping at each other. Blue, if you’re a college student, you need to act your age.”

“What kind of college student are you?” Grace asked. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Blue crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back. “I have two majors. I’m studying a lot of different things.”

“Like what?” Grace said.

“You’re one nosy kid, aren’t you?”

Grace looked at the table and made a face that clearly said, “Whatever.”

Denver, Colorado
Wednesday, January 22

By the time Lynnette and Grace finished eating, they had less than an hour to wait. Lynnette still had to figure out the best way to get herself and Grace to Los Angeles. Grace expected her father to return from Afghanistan on Sunday, or so she said. They could continue to leave messages on his cell phone and answering machine, but Lynnette had a feeling they would reach Grace’s mom first. What if the woman called the police? Or worse, what if she threatened to call the police if Lynnette didn’t escort Grace to Florida at Lynnette’s expense?

Lynnette stared at the tickets she’d laid on the table. “I wonder if this is a good idea.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea at all,” said Grace. “How do you get anywhere from Fort Collins, Colorado?”

“That’s not it,” Blue said. “She’s still trying to ditch her old man. She’s afraid he’ll find her easier if she goes to a small town.”

“Look it up on the Internet,” Grace said. “Maybe there’s a way to connect up with the train from there. That’s how I figured out the best way to get to Los Angeles. Amtrak’s on there. And Greyhound. All the airlines.”

Lynnette studied Grace’s expression with concern. “You figured it out? Grace, did you buy your own ticket or did your mom do it?”

Grace laughed. “My mom doesn’t know how to use the Internet except for email. The only other thing she does on the computer is play Minesweeper.”

“Your mother does not know where you are, does she?”

“Yes, she does. She watched me while I made the reservation and she filled in the credit card number herself.”

“She took you to the airport gate and watched you get on the plane?”

“Yes.”

“But she never talked to your dad to confirm he planned to meet you at the airport.”

“I told you. They don’t talk.”

“This is so farfetched,” Lynnette said.

Grace widened her eyes and let her jaw drop as though she couldn’t believe Lynnette would doubt her word. Blue laughed out loud.

“When is your mom supposed to get back?” Lynnette asked.

“Monday.”

“And by then your dad would be home.”

“Honest, Lynnette, she’s not going to check on me.”

“And what if she did? What if she decided to call your dad and make sure you arrived safely?”

Grace didn’t answer.

Blue looked on, intensely interested in the exchange, but said nothing.

The kid was beginning to get on Lynnette’s nerves. When Grace had told her earlier that she lived on her own a lot, Lynnette had not believed her. Now she wondered. She could be in a whole lot of trouble if anyone stopped Grace and questioned her. “The facts, Grace.”

“Everything I told you is true.”

“Did you leave a message for your mom on your home phone?”

“Yes. I did. Honest.”

“You have to call her cell phone, too. Even if she gets mad. You have to tell her.”

“But I can’t. I told you. She’ll kill me.” Grace looked Lynnette in the eye. “And she’ll call the cops. Report me missing. She’ll tell them I’ve been kidnapped because she won’t want to tell them she put me on a plane and didn’t make sure my dad would be there at the other end and that I got there okay. They’ll put out an Amber Alert and show my picture on TV. And Mom will go running home so the reporters can find her and she can do one of those Mommy interviews where she sobs for the camera and begs for the kidnappers to return her baby girl. And if they find me, Lynnette, they’re going to think you stole me.”

“But you’ll tell them otherwise, won’t you, Grace?”

Grace stood defiantly with her jaw set and her arms folded across her chest.

“I don’t think it’s a problem,” Blue said.

“Oh, it’s a problem,” said Lynnette.

“No, if Grace leaves messages on her mom’s phone every day, and also calls her dad every day, they’ll be sure she’s safe. And if anyone wants to blame you, I’ll testify that you tried to protect Grace because she threatened to run away if you told. It’s not safe for little kids to be on their own anywhere, but especially a big city like Denver.”

Lynnette shook her head. “This is a stupid move.”

Grace said, “But you’ll let me stay with you, right? Can we look up the train schedules on the Internet now?” She glanced at Blue. “Just to make sure Blue told us the right thing.”

Lynnette glanced around, looking for a wireless access sign. She seemed to be the only person in the bus station with a laptop computer. Now that she considered the other passengers more carefully, she realized few of them had real luggage. Some carried backpacks, some had suitcases, but many were surrounded by cardboard boxes and black trash bags, presumably full of their possessions.

Lynnette, Grace and Blue still sat at the table just outside the snack bar. Lynnette’s purse sat firmly wedged between her feet, her carry-on bag rested on the floor between her and Blue, and her computer case leaned against the table leg, propped against her foot. She leaned over and reached for the handles, found one, pulled the case out and started to unzip the side that held her laptop. She froze, her hand trying to make sense of the one-zippered case when hers had two zippered compartments. She grabbed the handgrips and lifted, staring at the case for a moment. Finally, she set it in her lap.