Remembering what she’d said about getting a soda, she paused at one of the vending machines and fed change through a coin slot. A can of Coke thunked into the slot. As she bent to retrieve the frosty cold can, she glanced in the direction of Chad ’s car and dimly perceived a shape behind the wheel. Jim was leaning against his pickup and smoking a cigarette.
The old man made her nervous. She was certain he suspected her of something. It was in the way he looked at her and the subtly doubting tone of his voice when he questioned her. In the aftermath of her confrontation with the intruders, he’d asked her a series of questions that made her uncomfortable. He wanted to know why she’d been up at that late hour. Wanted to know every tiny detail of how things went down. She explained everything in minute detail. It helped that much of it wasn’t made up. She’d been restless and had come into the kitchen for a late night snack, she’d told them, and that was fiction. The rest was stone cold truth.
More or less.
So it was aggravating that Jim clearly wasn’t buying it. This despite understanding why he was suspicious of her. She was an unknown quantity as far as he was concerned. He was a hard guy to figure out, not much at all like the wild rock-and-roll madman portrayed in movies and books. He was calmer, quiet, and coldly analytical. He’d hauled the dead men away in the bed of his pickup and disposed of them somewhere. It was chilling how unfazed he’d been by that.
Once the cleanup chores had been completed, Jim made the offer of sanctuary at his “place in the mountains.” He made the offer explicitly to Chad, pointedly leaving her out. But Chad would only go if Allyson accompanied him. Jim acquiesced without argument, but his demeanor told the real story-he’d didn’t trust her.
Allyson straightened and took a large gulp from the can. The cold soda felt good going down. Slightly invigorated, she set off toward Chad ’s Lexus. She smiled at Jim as she passed him and he nodded, his eyes unreadable behind his dark sunglasses. Then she opened the Lexus’s passenger door and slipped inside.
“Thanks for stopping. I feel so much better after getting-”
Then she saw the thing propped on the dash and her voice died in her throat. It was an ID card with her picture on it. At the top in cobalt blue block letters were the words FRANKLIN SECURITY CONSULTANTS. Beneath her picture in small black type was the name Jennifer Campbell, and beneath that the title Senior Solutions Specialist.
The back door on her side opened and someone slid into the seat behind her. The door thunked shut and Allyson detected a faint scent of tobacco. Jim. No one said anything at first. Allyson’s face reddened as sweat appeared on her forehead. The air in the car felt close and hot. The slick Coke can began to slide from her fingers. She set it in the cup holder with a shaking hand and tried to think of something-anything-to say.
Chad cleared his throat and said, “Is there anything you want to tell us, Allyson? Or should I call you Jennifer?”
His tone thrummed with equal measures of anger and hurt. Hearing that hurt snapped her out of the state of speechless panic. The partial admission that followed came before she could take even a moment to consider it. “I’m an ex-porn star and drug addict. Allyson Vanover is my real name. I’m from Los Angeles originally, but I ran away from my life there because it was out of control. I did twenty-four pornos in just under two years, and the ten thousand dollars is what I had left from that when I met you. I used to do so much coke my nose bled all the time and I wouldn’t sleep for days. I had to get away from that or I was going to die. Jennifer Campbell is the alias I came up with in case I needed a new identity to really start over.”
The words had come out in a rush, tripping over the tip of her tongue like pebbles tumbling wildly down a waterfall. As with her previous explanations in the aftermath of last night’s carnage, her story now was comprised of interweaving strands of truth and fiction. And, again, much of it was truth. But she had no faith at all they would buy the whole package this time. She suspected the combination of Jim’s paranoia and Chad ’s hurt feelings would conspire to put her out on the street. The thought filled her with a black despair. She’d done many bad things, but she was doing her damnedest to make up for them. The unfairness of it burned, coming so soon after taking her stand against the bad guys.
Chad blinked slowly, his face registering shock. “Um…porno?”
Allyson’s nod was emphatic. Her eyes were shining, imploring him to believe her. “I swear to God.” She glanced at the rearview mirror, met Jim’s stoic gaze, and looked again at Chad. “I don’t know what you guys are thinking or what you suspect, but I swear it’s fucking wrong.” A quaver entered her voice and tears began to roll from the corners of her eyes. “I’m not a bad person. I love you, Chad, and I didn’t tell you the truth about my past because I knew you wouldn’t want anything to do with someone so…trashy.”
The tears gave way to sobs, a display of genuine emotion devoid of even the smallest hint of fakery. She had known all along the real Allyson Vanover was not the kind of person who could ever hope to move in the same circles as a Chad Robbins, much less ever hope to marry a man of his quality. And now that this part of the charade was over, she felt like crawling into a hole and never coming out.
Jim shifted in the backseat and spoke up: “I don’t suppose you have proof to offer of the veracity of this tale?”
Allyson’s eyes went wide and she said, “ Chad! Your laptop, please get it.”
Chad ’s brow furrowed and he stared at her in a searching way for a moment. Allyson expected to see judgment in his eyes, but it didn’t seem to be there. Or maybe he was merely holding everything in for a big explosion to come. But then he sighed and got out of the car. He popped the trunk with the electronic key fob, and Allyson glanced again at Jim as she listened to the rustling sound of baggage being moved around. His sunglasses were off now and he was staring hard at her.
She made herself hold his as gaze as she said, “I’m telling the truth.”
Jim’s nod was barely perceptible. “I’m sure you are.” Then he smiled, an expression untouched by humor. “But I don’t think you’re telling all of the truth.”
Allyson looked away from those cold eyes. “I’m not lying. You’ll see.”
Jim didn’t reply.
Chad returned to the car, sliding back behind the wheel and moving his seat back before flipping open the laptop. The computer came out of hibernation mode, its screen a bright glare in the sunlight. Chad tapped some keys and said, “Lucky us, there’s a wireless network in range. We’re connected.” He glanced at Allyson. “What are we looking for?”
Allyson swallowed hard before replying. She didn’t want Chad to see the things she was about to show him. But she knew she’d been left with no choice. “Do a Google image search on Sinthia Fox. That’s S-i-n-t-h-i-a Fox.”
Her fingernails etched grooves in her palms as Chad tapped the keys. The search immediately produced pages of results. And though the glare of the sun obscured the shameful images somewhat, she was able to see enough to know she’d delivered her promised proof. Her hair had been a darker shade of blonde then, the sandy shade that was her natural color, and the makeup she’d worn for the movies and photo shoots had been starkly whorish and slutty. But it was her. Chad stared at the thumbnail pictures without saying anything for long moments before clicking on one that showed her fellating a dildo. He winced at the enlarged image and flipped the laptop shut. Then he looked up and stared straight ahead, eyes focusing on nothing at all.