Jane said, "If the police who find you know you've been convicted of murder and you've escaped from a courthouse, give up and go quietly. If you're just stopped by a cop, don't assume he knows anything. Lie. Show him the John Leland identification I left in the car for you. Try to fool him to the end. Don't worry. We'll work on all of it. Where are the keys to your car"
He got up, took them out of a sport coat he had hung in the closet, and handed them to her. "Are you going somewhere"
"Shopping. I'll get us some dinner and a few things we'll need for the next phase. Anything in particular you'd like"
"I've been in prison for three years. I'm not too picky. Should I come with you I'm good at carrying heavy bags."
"Thanks, but not yet," she said. "For now, I'll be the one to show my face. I'll be back in less than two hours. When I knock, look in the peephole before you open the door. Don't open it and look. Oh, and I seem to be out of money. Can you give me a few hundred from the money I left in the car for you" He pulled a wad of money out of his pocket and handed it to her. She walked to the door, and then she was gone.
Jane went to his car, got in, drove the perimeter of the hotel grounds, and then made a circuit of the neighborhood. There were no vehicles parked in sight of the hotel with people waiting in them, no loiterers across the street in Pioneer Park.
She drove to a large plaza dominated by a supermarket. She parked near the back of the lot, and selected a cart that someone had left far from the rack. She found that she could use it like a walker to take the weight off her healing right leg. She bought a cooked chicken, salad, and vege-tables for dinner, and then bought food they would need on the road-bottled water, cookies, nuts, fruit. She loaded it all into the car, and then went to the Target store beside the supermarket. She bought hair dyes, an electric razor, a pair of scissors, and a hand mirror. She found makeup that lightened her complexion a bit, and some tanning lotion. She bought sunglasses, hats, polo shirts for Shelby, sweaters, pullovers, and pants that would cover her bruises and burns. The last item was a small suitcase.
When she had finished her shopping, she drove along the boulevard until she saw a gas station that had a pair of pay telephones on the wall outside. She stopped and filled up the tank, then went to the telephones, put in five quarters, and dialed the number of the old stone house in Amherst, New York.
"Hello"
"Carey. It's me."
She heard the huff of air leaving his lungs, then heard the breath of air he took and she could picture him, standing in the kitchen. "Are you all right"
"I'm okay. It's been a little hairy, so I couldn't call before now. I just wanted to let you know that the hard part seems to be over, so you shouldn't worry about me too much from here on."
"I'll try to worry exactly the right amount. How much is that"
"I'm sorry," she said. "It was stupid to put it that way. Don't worry at all."
"I assume you can't say where you are or who you're with. Can you say when you'll be home"
"Not yet. I would guess it will be at least a few more days. There's a lot to do this time. I wish it were now, but it can't be. I miss you so much I could cry. In fact I guess I am."
"And I miss you."
"What have you told people about me"
He sounded weary. "I told them you've gone back into the consulting business because you missed the excitement, and you're helping a company change its supply and distribution systems to survive the hard times. They think you must have gone back to work because we've lost our savings in the market, so they just look at me with sympathy."
"That's very well done."
"Thanks. I've become an amazing liar-an undiscovered talent."
"I'm sorry," she said. "Look, I've got to go. I'm not sure when I can call again, so don't think anything has happened if I don't. I love you."
"I love you. If everything is okay, why are you crying"
"The usual reason. Because I want to be with you and I'm not." She sniffed. "I'm sorry, Carey. But I've got to go. Bye."
She hung up the telephone, went to the car, and drove off. She hated these telephone calls. They were always from pay phones, always rushed. "I'm sorry" and "I love you" and lies to him to make him think that what she was doing this time was safe and easy. None of it ever fooled him. He had learned over the years to pretend he believed, because that made it possible for both of them to get through the conversation. During their first year together, they had fought a couple of times during these calls. Since then they had learned to pretend.
Everything was a half-truth or an evasion. She couldn't say anything that was true or real; she could never say where she was or whom she was with, just in case someone somewhere in the miles between them was listening. At times she had sensed that he wondered what purpose it served for her to call at all. But when she hadn't called, they'd both felt awful.
On her last trip she had been taking an advertising executive named Stephen Noton out of Massachusetts and trying to relocate him in a safe place in the West. He had been an innocent bystander, but that hadn't protected him. There had been a would-be whistle-blower in a giant soft drink company who had documentary evidence that some divisions in the company were smuggling narcotics in certain large shipments of sugar and tea and tropical fruit. The company's security men had already intercepted his first attempt to get a copy out, had cut off his access to his computer, and were searching the building for him. He had noticed a large envelope in someone's office that was about to be sent by messenger to the advertising company-specifically, to Stephen Noton. He slipped his document into the packet and got back to his office just in time to be dragged away. Before long Stephen Noton had the document, but the company knew it. Once he'd read it, the company was determined to kill him. By the time he had made his way to Jane, Noton had survived two attempts on his life, including a nighttime raid of his home. When Jane had told Carey she was going to help Stephen Noton, Carey had said, "This is an innocent man. Surely the police can take care of somebody like him without your help." She had stopped calling until Noton was settled.
Jane reached the hotel and repeated her drive around the block to see if there were any signs of change in the parking lots surrounding the building or Pioneer Park. When she was satisfied, she parked near the side door so she didn't have far to walk.
She took her two bags of groceries and supplies and walked into the hotel. When she reached the door, she knocked and then stood in front of the peephole. She saw it darken, and the door opened.
Shelby took the bags and she relocked the door.
He stared at her. "Have you been crying"
"Me No," she said. "I guess my eyes are still watering from the dry air in the West. They'll be better when we go east."
"When is that"
"It's almost six now. We can probably be ready by midnight. First we have some work to do. Bring a chair into the bathroom in front of the sink."
Two minutes later, Jane joined him in the bathroom, opened the box of hair dye, and laid out the materials. When she had finished, she said, "Have you ever had your hair dyed before"
"No."
"You'll be amazed at how much it helps." She pulled his head back above the sink and applied the noxious-smelling chemical to his hair. "Now sit still and relax for fifteen minutes, and then I'll do a few highlights. Nobody's hair is all one uniform shade."
"I suppose not."
"I know you're skeptical of this stuff, but believe me, it's worth the effort. Anything you can change about yourself, you change. Some changes are hard. This is one of the easiest ones. You want all the cosmetic stuff done right away, before you go out where you'll be seen. And soon you'll have to rent an apartment somewhere. You don't want to show up looking dark, and then be light. Men don't do that very often."