RULES FOR DISAPPEARING
BY WITNESS PROTECTION PRISONER #18A7R04M:
Never tell anyone your secrets. They’re called secrets for a reason.
MY eyes feel gritty and I’m having trouble opening them. The light is bright, blinding me when I’m finally able to crack them. Someone is shaking my shoulder.
Finally, the dark fuzzy shape comes into focus. It takes me a few seconds, and then everything comes crashing back. Ethan.
He looks exhausted. I sit up quickly. “How long have I been asleep?” A glance out the window does not help pinpoint our location. We’re stopped at a gas station right off the interstate.
“We’re on the other side of Fort Worth, about halfway to Abilene. You’re gonna have to take a shift because I don’t think I can keep my eyes open for another mile.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?” I quickly undo my seat belt and hop out of the car. My legs are wobbly, and I really need to pee.
Ethan looks at me from over the roof. “I’ll fill the car up. Go get whatever you need inside.”
I reach into the car for my bag. I half walk, half run to the store, trying to get my legs to work. Once inside, I quickly spot the restroom.
Cringing, I step inside. It’s gross. Somehow, I manage to use the toilet while keeping the plastic bag on my lap. There’s no way I’m setting it on the floor in here.
Another balancing act at the little sink. I wash my hands and pull my toothbrush and toothpaste out of my bag. Once my teeth are brushed, I actually feel human again. My eyes are burning and red from sleeping in the contacts. They’re coming out. They’ll work well in Scottsdale, but I’m done with them until then. I get out the little case to put them away.
Back in the store, I grab a honey bun and fix a cup of coffee, then wait in line at the checkout. Ethan walks inside. When he gets close, his eyes squint as he looks at me closer. Not paying attention, he walks into a display of chips.
He changes course and comes to me in the line. He gets really close. “I knew your eyes were different in that newspaper article, but they are really blue.”
I giggle. “Yes. They are.”
He whispers in my ear, “Once we get back in the car I’m sleeping for a couple of hours and then we’re talking. Really talking about all of this.”
I love this car. It’s a totally different experience driving an old muscle car than any sports car on the market today. You really feel the engine when you hit the gas, and it makes a pretty cool rumbling noise, too.
Ethan told me before he completely passed out to watch my speed. The last thing we need is to get pulled over. It’s hard, though. I want to gun it and feel this car haul ass, but I restrain myself.
Maybe on the way home.
I glance over at Ethan, like I’ve done a hundred times since he fell asleep. He’s reclined, mouth wide open. He’s dead to the world.
He’s gonna want answers when he wakes up. I don’t blame him, but hate pulling him into this. As much as I want to keep him ignorant of the finer points, I don’t think I can talk him into letting me go to Price’s alone once we’re in Scottsdale. Not that it matters. I don’t know if I can do what needs to be done alone. It would be worse to let him walk in there and not know what we’re up against.
My mind wanders as I drive. Will I run into Elle or Laura? Probably not. Do I want to see them while I’m there? No, not really. With Brandon dead, a lot of my anger at them is gone. Laura could have been with him, and then she’d be dead too. I like to think my disappearing on Elle and Laura that night may have been the reason Laura and Brandon weren’t together at his house. Maybe overhearing what I did saved her life.
I drive for a few hours. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, to look at through this part of Texas.
Ethan starts to wake up as we pass through Midland. He tosses and turns in his seat for a few minutes before he finally gives up. He raises the seat and rubs his eyes.
“Where are we?” His voice is scratchy.
“Just passed Midland. Sign said Odessa is next.” I turn to look at him. “Do you need to stop?”
“Yeah, but I can wait until Odessa.” He reaches into the backseat and opens the ice chest, pulling out a Coke. He holds it out to me. “You want one?”
I shake my head. “No, I had coffee.”
He settles back in his seat and cracks the can. Yawning big, he stretches his legs and arms out.
“You can go back to sleep. I’m fine to drive a while longer.”
He arches his back and rubs his face with his free hand. “No, I’m good. How long was I out?”
I glance at my watch. “About three hours. Not long enough.”
He takes a deep drink of the Coke. “You didn’t sleep much more than that. It’s enough for now.” Ethan leans back against the seat and turns his head toward mine. “Okay, blue eyes. Spill it.”
“Can I tell you everything but the exact details of what put us in the program? I’d rather not name names.”
“For now. But you’re gonna have to tell me eventually. Whatever you need to do in Scottsdale, I’m going with you.”
I nod and take a deep breath. “I lived in Scottsdale my whole life until last June. My dad was a pretty successful CPA there. Not a big firm but a handful of really big clients. We lived in a nice house in a golf course community. Lots of nice things—cars, clothes, you name it.” I take another deep breath. I had no idea how hard this would be to say out loud.
“I witnessed something I shouldn’t have. Something terrible.” I don’t want to tell him I didn’t remember it until a few days ago. I don’t want to tell him I’ve hated my dad for months for something he didn’t do.
Ethan nods, urging me to go on.
It’s enough encouragement for me to keep going. “The longest we stayed in a placement was ten weeks. Most we were only there four or five. It was hard, all the moving. Changing names, new schools, new towns. Mom didn’t handle it well.”
“Is that normal—to move that much?”
I shrug. “I don’t think so.”
A tear escapes, sliding down my cheek, and I brush it away with the back of my hand.
We pass a sign for a gas station at the next exit.
“Pull over. Let’s take a minute to talk,” Ethan says.
I take the exit and pull into the gas station, stopping in front of the pump. We turn to face each other in the car.
“Mom was a casual drinker. But she started drinking a lot once we were in the program. It was too hard for her. She was a very social person back home: lots of committees, lots of clubs. The suits took her to a detox facility last night. I don’t know where she is right now.” I’m crying and I can’t stop. I haven’t had anybody to talk to about this, and now it’s just bursting out of me.
Ethan reaches behind the seat and tears off a paper towel from the roll Pearl gave us, and hands it to me.
I mop up my face while Ethan watches and waits for me to continue. “There’s something in Scottsdale that may help us stop running. I’m the only one who knows for sure where it is. I didn’t tell Dad I was leaving. With Mom gone, he has to stay with Teeny.”
Ethan smiles when I say Teeny’s name. “That’s the second time you’ve called her that. What’s her real name?”
I let out a short laugh. “It’s Elena. Elena Boyd. Teeny has been her nickname forever. It’s what we all call her when it’s just us. I about died when I said it in front of you the other day.”
Ethan shakes his head. “Does she have blue eyes, too?”
“No, just me. But we’re both blond. She was hardly speaking by the time we got to Natchitoches. All this moving was getting to her, too.”
Ethan looks like he doesn’t believe me.
“It’s true. She’s different around you and Pearl.”
“So what are you trying to find in Scottsdale?” he asks.
I lean back against the door and close my eyes. “I’d rather not tell you. You’re better off not knowing.” Especially when he gets questioned by the suits.
“I’m gonna see it whenever you get it. Open your eyes and look at me.”
My eyes open. Ethan holds my hands and pulls me in close. Our faces are inches apart.
He speaks quietly. “I’m in this. It doesn’t matter if you tell me what it is or not; I know more than the marshals or anyone else wants me to. I’m not gonna say this doesn’t scare me. It scares the shit out of me. But the best thing you can do is prepare me. Let me know what I’m up against. Keeping me in the dark is not going to help.”
He’s right. I tell him the whole story about Mr. Price and Brandon and the man with the scar named Sanchez. I tell him about losing my memory and the accounting ledger I’m hoping to find in Price’s wall.
Ethan is quiet a minute and then pulls me in for a kiss. It takes me by surprise but not for long. I’m kissing him back. His hands are in my hair and the scratch of his whiskers rubs me raw. His hands skim my sides, and I want to crawl across the seat, into his lap.
Several quick raps on the window makes us both jump as if we’d been shot. An old man in overalls is peering into the car.
“Either pump or move this car.” He turns and walks off.
Ethan throws on a baseball cap and hops out. God, we’re sitting in a parked car at a gas station, making out. I’m almost embarrassed to get out. A few minutes of kissing and all rational thought flies out of my head.
No matter what, Ethan is in this all the way now.
With the tank full, we spare a few minutes in the store, then it’s back to the Mustang.
Ethan pauses before putting the car in reverse. “I’m starving. Let’s eat real quick before we get back on the road.”
My stomach rumbles at the mention of food. We eat in the car, picnic style, with the food from the cooler. Pearl threw in lunch meat, bread, cheese, and mustard. We make some sandwiches and share chips out of the bag.
“If you’re gonna give the ledgers to the Feds, why didn’t you just tell them where they are and let them come get them?”
I take a drink of my Coke, thinking about the best way to answer this. “I’m not. Sanchez, the man who killed my dad’s boss and his son, has sent someone after me. He knows I know where the ledgers are, and he wants them back or he’ll kill my family. The suits can’t protect us from him. Dad wants to make a deal with him—the ledgers for our safety. But he shot my friend Brandon just for walking into the room. I don’t know how smart it is to make a deal with these people.”
Ethan has stopped eating, and his mouth is hanging slightly open. “Holy shit.” He stuffs the rest of his food into the paper bag we’re using for trash. “Holy. Shit.”
I feel guilty now. This is so much more than he thought he was getting into.
“You can let me out here. I’ll find a way to Scottsdale. I’m so sorry for dragging you into this.” I start gathering my things, and Ethan puts a hand on my arm to stop.
“Can you please just give me a minute to let this crazy shit sink in before you decide to run away?”
He leans his head against the back of the seat. “So if you aren’t giving the ledgers to the Feds and you aren’t sure about giving them to this Sanchez guy, what are you going to do with them?”
I lift my shoulders and say, “I haven’t worked that out completely. The original plan did not include being chased by suits and killers! I was going to have some time to figure it out.”
Ethan gathers our trash and hops out of the car to throw it away. I pack everything else in the cooler.
Once he’s back in the car, he says, “Let’s worry about getting the ledgers first, then we’ll figure out what to do with them. We need to get back on the road. It’s already ten thirty. I’m sure they’ve been looking for a while now, and we still have a long-ass way to go.”
Reality check. As much as I want this to be some great little getaway with my cute boyfriend, it’s not. I look at the map. Long-ass way is right.
Ethan thankfully changes the subject once we’re back on the road. “Tell me the worst place you lived.”
I sip on my water and answer, “Definitely our first move. It was Hillsboro, Ohio. None of us understood what any of this meant. We were jerked out of our home, lost our friends. I was used to Scottsdale. It was the first two weeks of the summer before my senior year. Always sunny, always something to do. They plopped us down in this ridiculously small town. School was out, so there was no real way to even meet people. They put us in this tiny little house in a semi-bad area. I had no car, nothing. It was horrible.”
“How long were you there?”
“Not long. Maybe four weeks.”
“What was your name there?”
“Madeline Holmes. Teeny’s name was Hayden.”
Ethan moves his cap over his head a few times. “Do you get to pick your names or what?”
“The suits give us our last name and we get to pick our first name. Teeny picks people off TV.”
Ethan laughs. “What’d you do? Just come up with a name? This is crazy.”
I laugh back. “It is crazy. Picking my name was the hardest part for me. Each time we moved somewhere, I thought I better pick a good name because I’ll be stuck with it forever. Never thought I’d go through so many in such a short period of time.”
This seems to be fascinating to Ethan. “Okay, so why did you have to leave Ohio? Did something happen?” he asks.
I curl up in the passenger seat with the blanket. It’s really cold out in this barren part of west Texas. “That placement was only a transitional one. They explained to us about the program and what would be involved. We knew going into Ohio that we wouldn’t stay there long. I didn’t stress as bad about my name there, but it was still a big deal because it was my first fake name.”
“So where after Ohio?”
“Springfield, Missouri. After being in Hillsboro, I was actually excited about this move. Springfield was tons bigger. Our house was decent, and there were kids our age down the street. We moved there in the middle of July.”
Ethan had bought a cheap pair of sunglasses at the last stop, so I can’t see his eyes, but I can tell he’s getting a kick out of this, for some insane reason.
“What was your name there?”
“Isabelle Mancini, and Teeny was Vanessa.”
Ethan pulls down the shades and says, “Italian, really?”
I imagine myself back in Springfield, my high hopes there, and how naive I was. “Yes, and I really embraced it. Made sure my first name sounded Italian, too.”
“So what caused that move?”
I look down into the folds of my blanket. “That move was my fault.” I tell him about going to the party and my drunken escapade on the Internet. And the birth of the go-bag.
“That sucks. How fast after you used the Internet did they come get you?” he asks.
“I’m not sure. I passed out next to the computer. Maybe a couple of hours.”
Ethan stares out the windshield, and I know what he’s thinking. This kind of response time does not work well for us and our current situation.
“We were only there about four weeks,” I add.
We travel the next few miles in silence. Ethan seems lost in his thoughts. I pick at the blanket. Finally, he turns to me again, recovering some of his earlier enthusiasm.
“Where next?”
“Naples, Florida.”
“Avery Preston. I was wondering when we were gonna get to her.”
I snuggle in the blanket. “I loved Naples. It reminded me the most of Scottsdale. We lived in an apartment three blocks from the beach. We were there the longest, ten weeks maybe. You said you fished Paradise Coast?”
“Yeah. Me, Dad, Ben, and his dad. I was ten.” He pushes his hat up on his head.
“Y’all were close.”
He smirks. “Listen to you. Y’all. You’re halfway to being a Southern girl.”
I pull the blanket up to hide my grin. “What’s the other half?”
“You gotta eat a piece of Pearl’s Cajun pizza. And love it.”
I make a fake gagging motion. “No way in hell. That’s just wrong to put all that on a pizza.”
“What was Teeny’s name in Naples?”
“Sydney.” I wonder if they hounded her this morning about where I was, or if she shut down with Mom gone.
“Naples is cool. We stayed there one night.”
I nod. “That was the hardest one to leave. I made friends, joined some clubs at school. We were there until the end of October. It was tough when we left.”
“What caused that move?”
I shrug. “No idea. They just showed up and we were gone.” It seems forever ago that I sat in that apartment and waited for Tyler. Leaving him was nothing compared to what it would be like to leave Ethan.
Ethan takes his sunglasses off and rubs his hands over his eyes. “You know how bizarre this is, don’t you? I can’t imagine moving like that, changing names.”
“You have no idea.”
He voice gets soft. “When did your mom’s drinking get worse?”
I swallow hard and beg myself not to tear up talking about this again. “When we left Florida. The suits dropped us in Bardstown, Kentucky. Talk about shell shock. It was almost worse than leaving Scottsdale for Ohio. Florida was doable. I could have stayed in Florida.” Knowing he is about to ask, I add, “I was Olivia Taylor, and Teeny was Amanda.”
“How long were you there?”
I lean against the door and run my hands through my hair. “Almost two months. We left right before Christmas. And I don’t know what happened there either.”
“Okay, so that’s four places. One more before Natchitoches?”
“Yeah. Conway, South Carolina. I was Gabrielle Chandler, and Teeny was Sabrina.”
He laughs. “You went for fancy names, didn’t you?”
Madeline, Isabelle, Gabrielle, Olivia. “Yeah, I guess I did.” I hadn’t really thought about them all together like that.
“Meg was a good choice. It fits you. The others are a little too…I don’t know, too much. So how was South Carolina?”
“Pretty cool—better than Bardstown, really, but my family was going down the drain. We could’ve been anywhere; it didn’t matter. We were there until we came to Natchitoches. It was a scary move. They came in the middle of the night and yanked us out of bed.”
Ethan’s eyes get big. “You’re shitting me.”
“No. One minute I’m sound asleep, the next I’m in the van.”
“And then you’re sitting in the office of my high school. No wonder you didn’t want anything to do with anybody. I’m surprised you talked to me at all.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. He gets it. He understands. I reach my hand over and hold his.
“That was my plan. No friends. I hate leaving people behind.” I rub my thumb over his hand. “It would’ve devastated me to leave you. To never see you again. And then for you to wonder where I went. I didn’t want that.”
Ethan glances from me to the road and back. “I don’t want that either.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “Anna,” he says quietly. It’s the first time he’s said my real name. He watches the road a few minutes more, then says, “It’s nice to meet you, Anna Boyd.”
By midafternoon we’re headed down I-10 toward New Mexico, a stretch of interstate that runs close to the Mexican border. I’ve napped off and on, but now I’m just trying to find something decent on the radio.
“I really miss my iPod right about now,” I say, turning the small knob across the FM dial.
Ethan laughs. “Yeah, in these parts it’s either gonna be mariachi or country.”
I snarl at the radio. At least it’s warmer here. I’ve shed a few layers, and we may actually have to turn the air conditioner on soon.
Ethan points to a sign up ahead. “Let’s stop when we get to El Paso. I gotta get out of this car awhile. We’ll find somewhere to eat.”
I nod. I’m getting cabin fever, too. It’s better to have silence than the noise coming across the radio, so I cut it off.
“How pissed do you think your parents are going to be that you did this?” I ask.
“Dad’ll be furious. Mom will just be worried, but I’m eighteen. I can legally come and go as I please.” His face is smug.
“My dad is probably freaking out. I bet they still tried to move them, but he won’t leave while I’m gone.”
Ethan takes the off-ramp, and we both look at our roadside restaurant choices. Mexican, hamburgers, or truck stop diner.
I shrug, not really caring which one we go to.
He pulls into the parking lot of Dos Amigos restaurant. It’s a seat-yourself kind of place, so we take a booth in the back. This restaurant looks sketchy. It’s old and the painted walls were probably once pretty vivid, but now it’s just faded red, green, and yellow. The floors are worn, and the vinyl cushions in the booth are cut in places. But the smells coming out of the kitchen are incredible. It’s late for the lunch crowd, so there aren’t many people inside.
A young Hispanic girl approaches our table carrying water, menus, chips, and salsa. “Hola. You want something to drink?” Her accent is thick.
Ethan looks at me before answering. “Two Cokes.”
The waitress leaves, and we both look at the TV in the corner of the room. The news is on and we watch it for a few minutes.
“Do you think the Feds will go public with their search for you?” he asks.
I shrug my shoulders. “I would think no because they wouldn’t want to show my picture and name. The real one or the fake one.”
“That’s what I hope, too. It’d suck if we were all over the news like some wanted felons.”
“Well, they have to go easy here. We’re in the program for protection. It’s not like we did something wrong and are giving evidence to get out of trouble.” I hate to admit that was what I thought was the deal.
The waitress brings the drinks, and we order. I can’t say I’m very adventurous when it comes to food, so I stick with two tacos, rice, and beans. Ethan, on the other hand, goes for some crazy combination platter. We talk awhile about regular things, both of us wanting a break from what we’re really on this trip for. But it doesn’t last long.
“We need to talk about your plan once we get to Scottsdale,” Ethan says, scooping a huge amount of rice into his mouth.
“Price lives in the same neighborhood my friend Elle does. It’s a gated neighborhood inside a gated community. It’s a big house, but the office is on the bottom floor, right off the main hall.”
“Does anyone else live there? A wife, other kids?”
“He was remarried to some young woman, but Brandon was his only son. I’m not sure if she still lives there now that Mr. Price is gone.” I push my plate away. Just talking about this has gotten me so nervous that I lose my appetite.
“Okay, we have to plan for extra security getting into the neighborhood. We need to assume that the FBI or marshals are watching Price’s house. We have to decide how to get in if no one lives there and it’s all locked up, or if the wife is home.”
“I’m kinda hoping no one is home,” I say.
Ethan looks at me, confused. “You think that’d make it easier?”
I take a sip of my Coke. “She’ll recognize me!”
He laughs quietly. “Well, I don’t know anything about picking locks or disarming alarm systems. Do you?”
“No.”
“Are you going to be okay going back there?”
I swallow hard. “I’m gonna have to be, right?”
Ethan finally says, “Anna, once they figure out we’re not in Mississippi, they’re gonna guess we’re going to Scottsdale. They’re probably already there now.”
I stare down in my drink and watch the ice swirl as I stir it with my straw. “I know.”
I describe the house as best I can and the neighborhood layout. We talk about possible entry points and all the things that could go wrong. I tell him where Elle’s house is in relation to Price’s. I tell him everything but the exact name of the subdivision.
This is insane. Nuts. I can’t believe we are sitting here having this conversation. Ethan’s right. It won’t take the suits long to figure out we’re not in Mississippi. And whoever is working for Sanchez could be right behind us, for all I know. The more we talk about the plan, the more scared I get. It was crazy involving him in this. I should’ve come up with a different plan.
It may piss him off, but there’s no way I’m letting him get anywhere near Price’s house now.