SHE kept herself going through the earliest part of the process of escaping the desert through sheer will. For a time, the mountain road required all her concentration. Eventually, though, her thoughts turned to that horrible set of moments in the desert, when she thought she might die.
Until today, she had been in control in every situation. Her careful planning, her preparations, her training were all aimed toward minimizing variables that could result in her death or arrest.
If today had gone as she had planned it, Roy would have made sure that Victoria’s drink was drugged, turned off the alarm, and taken all four children with him. How hard was it for him to count to four?
Even if Bonnie had refused the drink, Cleo could have taken her out. Having that stupid ass Giles along would have made it a little more difficult, but not impossible.
So what happens? Roy fucks up all but one of his assignments, and even so, things still might have been okay if Giles would have stayed calm and simply gone outside and met Carrie and told that reporter tough shit, he’s her uncle, no interviews, and good-bye. Instead, the dipshit packs a goddamned newspaper reporter into the van! Gives her directions to where Cleo is waiting with a dead body!
And worst of all, the idiot says her name in front of the reporter. Cleo had thought quickly then, realizing that he’d just freak out and tell the woman God knows what if Cleo didn’t calm him down as fast as possible. So she had lied and said he was great and did all the usual stroking of his ego that he required. And decided, as she hung up, that she’d had just about enough of Giles.
Her mistake had been in not shooting the reporter right off the bat. She saw that now. She had let her anger toward Giles get in the way of accomplishing her goals. At the very least, she should have taken the keys away from that bitch. Instead: amateur hour.
The killing of Giles had been nice and clean, and she had expected that the reporter and Carrie would be grateful for the rescue. Instead, the crazy bitch had driven off. And then, then-Cleo still couldn’t believe it-then the bitch had turned around and tried to kill her!
No one had ever tried to kill Cleo. It had made her go cold all the way through. It gave her a kind of sick and wobbly feeling that threw her aim off. The thought of someone else feeling that way was one thing, but she was not supposed to be in that situation herself.
And the look on that woman’s face! She had to stop thinking about it, she decided. It was too, too upsetting.
SHE didn’t dare stop to rest. She didn’t want any clerks or waitresses to have a reason to say where they had seen a woman matching her description.
THE sun was going down by the time she finished hiding the motorcycle. She hiked up the slope that led to her cabin, carrying her bags.
Roy was sitting at the kitchen table with the kids when she came in. There was a look of surprise on every face when she opened the door, then she saw Roy look anxiously beyond her.
“Carrie’s not with me,” she said. Then, seeing the look on the faces of the kids, she quickly added, “She decided to stay with Grandfather Fletcher.”
The kids were immediately relieved, but Roy still looked worried. One of the kids, the girl, said, “Can we all go to Grandfather Fletcher’s house?”
“No,” Roy said. “No, we’re going to stay here for a little while.”
They were all too well-disciplined to question his authority, but Cleo could see that this decision didn’t meet with their approval.
“Where’s Mommy?” the youngest boy asked.
“She decided to stay with your grandfather, too,” Cleo said, “so she asked me to come up here and take care of you and your dad.”
That resulted in puzzlement, but no rebellion.
“Who are you?” asked the older boy.
“She’s your cousin Cleo,” Roy said, before she could warn him not to give them her name. Well, what difference did it make, now that Giles had made a gift of it to that reporter? Now that a reporter could describe her to the police, to the world? It occurred to her that her whole life would have to change.
Fine, she thought, but she would make that reporter pay for all the inconvenience she was causing.
CHAPTER 48
Tuesday, May 2
12:35 P.M. PDT
UNITED FLIGHT 0914
DEXTER FLETCHER thanked the first-class-cabin flight attendant as he accepted the glass of wine. The flight attendant lingered for a while, saw that he wasn’t in the mood to converse, and withdrew. He made sure she didn’t feel slighted, that she believed he was merely tired. He was an expert in the fine art of making a woman feel that, if at all possible, he would give her all his attention.
He often took this nonstop to Paris, and therefore made no effort to travel under an assumed name. That would change once he was on the ground, but for now he answered to Mr. Fletcher, as always.
Once he was sure he would not be disturbed for a while, he picked up his copy of the Las Piernas News Express and read the article once again. He closed his eyes and imagined all the ways things could go wrong with Giles’s plans. Almost too many to imagine.
He had known there would be trouble once the story was published. Knowing Giles was about to make it worse, he decided it was time to go.
He had managed to get an early copy of the Express every morning through an arrangement he made with a nephew who had a job delivering the paper. That was why, at four this morning, Dex had been on his way to LAX. By six, his flight was in the air.
Conceivably, if Giles really screwed up, someone in law enforcement might greet him when he arrived in Paris tomorrow morning at half-past seven. It would be-he looked at his watch and calculated quickly-ten-thirty at night, still Tuesday, in Las Piernas.
Possible, he decided. Unlikely, but possible. Still, smarter to leave now and discover everything was fine at home, that Giles’s plan had worked, than to regret staying.
He had called Nelson just before he left. He’d always had a soft spot for poor Nelson.
Rich Nelson, most people would say. Nelson was successful. Nelson was brilliant in his line of work, but he had always relied on Dexter to keep him clued in about other people, to take care of him and protect him from those who wanted to take advantage of him. He paid Dexter handsomely to deal with legal matters, but Dexter believed the most valuable advice he gave his brother had little to do with the law.
He sighed, thinking of Nelson. He had done what he could for him. Now he had to try to save his own neck.
He had been planning for this day for a number of years now. He had always provided a number of safe houses for Cleo, with the understanding that the day might come when he would make use of any he chose.
More than anyone currently in her life, Dex thought, he knew her.
Dex adjusted his seat into a bed so that he could sleep comfortably cocooned for a few hours.
He closed his eyes and smiled to himself. Cleo was a resourceful little devil, and she’d never trust Giles completely. With any luck, he had just wasted the price of a one-way ticket to France.
His eyes opened. Would he return to the family if he could? The idea of leaving it had once been unthinkable. Now…now there were all sorts of possibilities.
He closed his eyes again and slept soundly.
THE flight attendant, passing by a little later, removed the empty wineglass. Dex Fletcher was always a pleasure to serve, not fussy or demanding, always remembered not just your name but if you had kids, and asked after them. Took an interest in people, unlike a lot of the jerks you got in first class. What a lucky woman his wife was. Looking down at his handsome face, somehow even more attractive in repose, she turned off the reading light he’d left on. The newspaper, she left-trying to take it from him would probably wake him up. Poor guy. Earlier, when they were talking, she’d had the feeling he was tired.