I flipped open the file. My gaze landed first on Lucy’s new moniker. Cady. My older sister and I had always loved the name. It was John who hadn’t been crazy about it. And John always got his way.
Anger flared, hot and deep, but I shoved it down. I couldn’t let it take hold, not when I needed complete focus for the task at hand.
I pulled a driver’s license out of the folder. The picture was the same as my Mississippi license, but I guessed cops had access to that sort of thing. Only this one said my home was in Washington state. And that my name was Aspen Barlow.
My gaze shot to Evan.
He shrugged. “You said you always wanted to live in the Pacific Northwest. It was the least I could do.”
My nose stung. “Thank you,” I croaked. Those words didn’t come close to encompassing what I wanted them to. Not for the officer who had seen me through the investigation, the arrest, the horrible trial, and everything that followed.
Evan’s expression went from gentle to the official one I’d seen more than the rest. “You can thank me by staying safe. No contact with people from your old life.” He handed me a cell phone and a set of car keys. “Text when you get in. Say, ‘Is this Joey?’ I’ll know you’re safe. Then don’t contact me again unless it’s an emergency. Map and address are in the station wagon.”
I nodded, adjusting Lucy, no…Cady on my hip as I handed him my keys and cell.
“There are enough vehicles coming and going from here that you should be safe, but I put a wig and sunglasses in the vehicle just in case. Car seat is ready to go. Don’t stop until you’re over state lines, at least. Your face is still making the rounds on the news now and then.”
That anger flared to life again. People had a morbid fascination with others’ suffering. Maybe it made them feel better about their lives. Maybe it was that car-crash phenomenon. No matter the reason, it kept me from finding any sort of safety.
“I won’t stop until we’ve gotten some distance.”
Evan nodded. “Check in on the regular.”
I moved on instinct, giving him a quick hug. “Thank you.”
“You’d better get going.” He patted my back. “You’ve got this. It’ll be the fresh start you two need.”
I swallowed against the burn in my throat, nodding but not trusting my voice.
Evan studied me for a moment and then dropped his hand. “I’ll get your stuff.”
I headed toward the station wagon a few spots down. Opening the back door, I got Cady situated while Evan loaded our bags. I slid behind the wheel and picked up the black wig. It was so different from my vibrant red hair, but I guessed that was the point. Pulling it on, I slipped the sunglasses into place.
Evan watched as I carefully pulled out of the parking spot. The gas and brake were stickier than my sedan, but I’d have plenty of hours to get used to the vehicle.
I lifted my hand in a wave that Evan answered. Then, swallowing hard, I headed for the parking garage exit. The mall’s structure was already filling up on the higher levels, and I was thankful for the cover. I’d learned the hard way that you never knew who might be watching.
I held my breath as I pulled out into the sunlight. I didn’t release it until I was two blocks away. My lips moved in a muttered prayer—maybe a mantra. “Please let us be okay. Please let us be free.”
But if there was one thing I knew, it was that John’s fingers had a far reach. And they could steal the breath right out of your lungs.
1
ASPEN
FIVE YEARS LATER
“Mama!” Cady yelled, flinging her arms wide as she ran out of the elementary school. “It’s snowing!”
Her glittery, off-brand Uggs weren’t exactly protecting her from the wetness, but this storm had come on unexpectedly. In our small town nestled in the mountains of Washington, getting the occasional dump in October wasn’t unusual. Sometimes, we even got some in September. But we typically had a bit of warning.
Cady spun in a circle, tipping her head back and trying to catch snowflakes on her tongue.
My heart squeezed. She was everything good in this world—a walking, talking beacon of hope. “Come on, Katydid. Let’s get going before your nose freezes.”
Cady’s best friend, Charlie, laughed. “Dad says it takes at least a couple of hours for frostbite to set in.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from chuckling. “Good to know.”
“See you tomorrow,” Charlie called as he ran toward the SUV with the police emblem on its side.