Narrow Escape Page 9
“Could I have a telephone number?”
Before she could answer, Nathan suddenly rattled off a phone number to the teller. “Liam’s home phone,” he told Arissa.
Right. Because in a couple weeks, she wouldn’t be sure she’d still be using the burner cell phone he’d given to her.
They left the bank and had driven about a mile or two away, passing the local hardware store. Migrant workers often congregated at the corner of the parking lot, an unofficial place for building contractors and ranch foremen to stop and pick up extra help for the day. Arissa was idly looking at the sun-browned men. Two better-dressed men were talking to a handful of them—probably contractors looking for help.
One of those contractors turned to look at Nathan’s car as they slowed in traffic.
It was one of the Filipino men from the rest stop.
Arissa yelped before she could help herself. The man recognized her immediately and yelled to his partner. The two of them dashed to a black BMW SUV parked a few feet away from the congregation of migrant workers.
“Nathan!”
“I see them.” He yanked on the steering wheel and swerved around the car in front of him, jamming on the accelerator.
This time, they were in Nathan’s SUV and not Malaya’s aunt’s beat-up car, but the BMW SUV had a more powerful engine and soon caught up with them on the smooth Sonoma roads. Arissa caught sight of the black vehicle, its chrome glinting in the sunlight, a couple cars behind them. “Do you see them?” she asked him.
“Yes.”
“How are you going to shake them?” All she could see on either side were vineyards, since they were on the outskirts of Sonoma. Vineyards and gently curving roads, without many side roads to turn on. Even if they did turn right or left, it would be easy for the BMW to spot them in the flat fields.
But to her surprise, Nathan smiled grimly. “They’re in my backyard, now.”
He zoomed down the road, away from Sonoma and Liam and First Sonoma Bank. There was plenty of traffic since the vineyards were opening for wine tasting, so he often had to pause behind cars pulling right or left into vineyard driveways. He passed a lumbering truck filled with bright oranges, and the BMW followed easily.
Arissa’s only consolation was that the driving had put Charity to sleep in her car seat. Thank goodness she usually fell asleep in cars no matter what time of day.
Nathan took them through winding roads that meandered through the foothills until Arissa didn’t know which direction they were headed. “Where are you going?”
“Santa Rosa.”
“Why there?”
“It’s a town with more urban streets.”
Just when she thought the winding road was going to make her sick, they passed a golf course and suddenly they left the fields and entered a town. In fact, it looked a lot like some of the suburban sections of Los Angeles.
But it also allowed the BMW to gain on them until they were right on their tail.
“Are they going to ram us or something? What are they going to do?”
“I got the feeling they didn’t expect to see us.” Nathan cut around a few cars, but the pursuers followed. “They lost any element of surprise.”
Arissa glanced at the gas tank, which was three-quarters full. “Are they hoping they have more gas than we do?”
“They could be waiting for us to do something stupid so they can grab you. Or they’re hoping for an opportunity to force us to stop.”
Arissa looked back. “Nathan, one of them is on his cell phone.” Who was he calling? Did they have more gang members up here in Sonoma? Could they call reinforcements?
“That’s too bad.”
“Huh?”
“It’s too bad he’s talking to his gang, because they’re about to lose us.”
They were driving on a busy street with two lanes in either direction, separated by a double yellow line. Nathan abruptly twisted the wheel and swerved in a left turn directly in front of an oncoming wave of cars.
Arissa’s heart choked her throat as a lime-green pickup truck grew large in her vision, as the sound of squealing tires filled her ears. She slammed her hand against the dashboard to brace herself, digging her nails into the hard contours. She didn’t have time or breath to scream.
Then they were zooming down a side street, car horns blaring behind them. She twisted and saw the BMW trying to brake to follow them, but instead it overshot the side street, nearly colliding with the cars behind them.
Nathan turned left down another street, then he twisted their way through the streets of Santa Rosa until he got onto a freeway onramp. “Keep watch, see if they’re following.”
Arissa scanned the cars behind them, but there were few cars on the freeway and it was easy to see that the BMW wasn’t there. She kept watch for several miles while Nathan headed back to Liam’s place. He took smaller streets there, avoiding heavy traffic roads. The BMW never reappeared. Remembering that one of the men had made a phone call, she also checked to make sure they weren’t being followed by any other cars—she kept tabs on which cars were behind them, but none of them followed for very long, and none of them reappeared.
There were absolutely no cars behind them when Nathan finally turned into the short street that led to Liam’s duplex but she didn’t breathe freely until they had parked the car.
She bowed her head and sagged against her seat belt. They’d escaped those men again. Thank You, Lord.
“Arissa.” Nathan’s voice was quiet in the silent car.
She looked at him.
His eyes were a silver-green sea that she drowned in, warm and comforting. “Are you okay?”
She managed to nod. “It was a shock to see them again. Your driving was great.”
“I’m sorry if I scared you.”
“You didn’t scare me, I trust you.” The words were out of her mouth before she could think.
He seemed uncomfortable, and she didn’t understand why she’d said it. But it was true—she did trust him. She knew he’d take care of them, at least as long as they were here in Sonoma.
She reached out and touched his face, cupping his cheek. His skin was cool but warmed beneath her fingers.
He tensed under her touch for a brief moment, but then he raised his hand to fold over hers.
That point of contact wasn’t a lightning bolt, or a spark, or a sizzle. It was a glowing warmth that started in her hand and rolled down her arm like honey.
He closed his eyes briefly and turned his face into her palm. His lips were a hair’s breadth away from her skin.
Then Charity woke and let out a fussy cry. “Aunt Rissa.”
Arissa blinked as if waking from a dream. As she pulled away her hand, she thought his fingers might have tightened for a brief moment—but he still let her go.
She and Nathan were silent as they entered Liam’s home. She preferred it that way. Why had she touched him? Why was she fooling herself into thinking anything could come of this? He might care about her to some extent, maybe because of the past, but he had obviously been uncomfortable with her trust, so there was even less of a chance he’d want to deepen their relationship on any level. Anyway, she shouldn’t even be considering this while she was on the run from gang members.
Liam looked up from his computer as they walked in and saw their faces. “What happened?”
But before they could answer, Charity asked, “Aunt Rissa, can I play outside?”
Arissa wasn’t sure Liam even had a backyard, and she didn’t want Charity wandering in the next-door vineyard, since she wasn’t sure it was snake-free.
“I’ll take her,” Nathan suddenly said. “You fill in Liam.”
“No, I can go for a short walk with her.”
But Nathan shook his head. “I need to stretch my
leg.”
His eyes caught hers, and her next protest died on her lips. He could take away her breath with just a look. She marveled at it even as she mentally kicked herself for reacting to him this way.
“Come on, nene.” The Filipino endearment rolled naturally from his lips, and Charity responded by taking the hand he held out.
Liam stood and stretched, his arm moving stiffly. “Let’s all go outside. I’ve been working the entire time you’ve been gone.”
Arissa discovered that while Liam didn’t have a backyard, his back door opened into a dirt track, parallel to the driveway in front of the line of duplexes. On one side of the dirt road were the houses, but on the other side stood the large field of grapevines. The dirt track led up beside the rows of grapevines to a small grassy area, and then the rolling foothill, dotted with two lone trees. Arissa and Liam walked behind Nathan, who matched Charity’s slow steps.
“We saw the two men who shot at us at the rest stop,” Arissa said.
Liam’s eyes darkened to indigo. “At the bank?”
“No, thank goodness. We’d left the bank, but we saw them outside the hardware store, talking to some of the migrant workers.”
“So they were in Sonoma? Looking for you?”
“I guess.”
Nathan glanced back at them. “Not necessarily. But they know you’re near Sonoma now.”
“It seems coincidental they’d be in Sonoma, right after shooting at you.”
“But if they did know I was in Sonoma, how’d they find out?” Arissa said.
“Look.” Charity stopped and squatted in front of a patch of bright yellow flowers growing along the side of the path.
Nathan turned to Arissa. “If they were tracking your friend’s cell phone—the one she left in her car—from the time you were parked in front of my parents’ house, they’ll have known you stopped in Sonoma for a while. And since I’m with you, they might figure that I’d keep you nearby since I’m from here.”
“Maybe we should leave Sonoma.”
“We will, but I think we’re safe with Liam for now.” Nathan glanced at Charity. “I’ve thought of other places, but they wouldn’t be easy with a child.”
“Uncle Nathan, let’s run!” Charity grabbed his hand and started pumping her little legs.
A smile lit his face, making him seem a decade younger, and he pretended to run alongside her.
“Do you think they know about the bank?” Liam asked.
“I don’t think so. There are any number of places we could have been before they saw us. And they have no reason to suspect that Mark had any particular ties to Sonoma—we’re the only ones who know he actually had a bank account up here.” She watched Charity chatting with Nathan. “The Fischers mentioned they’d seen Mark a few times around here, but he said he was visiting our aunt. It never even occurred to me he’d have something like a hidden bank account.” That reminded her, she wanted to call her parents from a safe phone to make sure they were okay and also to ask if Aunt Luellen had ever mentioned Mark visiting her. “When we get back to the house, I need to access Mark’s bank statements online.”
“I looked through the boxes after you left,” Liam said. “There was nothing else from Sonoma. I even skimmed through some of his credit card statements, and he never charged anything up here. If that one letter is the only clue about his ties to Sonoma then that means he went through a lot of effort to hide it.”
“What else does he have up here? A storage unit? A post office box?”
Liam shrugged. “He could have all those things, but there’s no way to know.”
His words hung in the warm air. How could the sun be so bright, the fields be so verdant, when inside she felt so cold? Bees buzzed around some wild roses growing at the end of one of the rows of grapevines, and butterflies flitted across their path, alighting on patches of wildflowers. They mocked her because her life was dark like a moldy wood.
Ahead of her, Charity raced toward the grassy patch at the base of the foothill, but she saw Nathan’s leg trembling with the strain as the path began to climb. Yet when he reached Charity, he still laughed with her and obligingly spun her in a pirouette when she ordered him to, despite the pain tightening the skin at his eyes.
She approached him and tried to smile for Charity’s sake. “Can I call my parents? I want to make sure they’re okay.”
He nodded and handed her his prepaid cell phone.
She was fairly certain the gang would never make the connection between herself and her discipler, but she did worry about how dangerous it was that her folks were still in Los Angeles.
She dialed. “Hi, Mrs. Fuchikami, it’s Arissa.”
“How are you doing, dear?”
“We’re fine.”
“I’ve been praying for you.”
Her voice felt hollow as she answered, “Thank you, I appreciate your prayers.”
At her words, Nathan turned away and began talking to Charity about the wildflowers she was picking and mangling. His reaction made her sad but unsure what she could do. Had he stopped praying altogether?
“Let me get your parents,” Mrs. Fuchikami said, and soon her mother was on the line.
“Arissa, are you all right? We’re so worried.”
“We’re fine, Mom. How are you guys doing?”
“Your dad’s going crazy, but I just remind him you didn’t escape kidnappers for nothing and he should make sure he doesn’t get you in more trouble.”
Arissa couldn’t help smiling at her mother’s way of putting things. But she also had to keep this conversation short so she got to the point. “Mom, when you talk to Aunt Luellen, did she ever mention Mark visiting her in Sonoma by himself in the months before he died?”
Nathan turned to look at her with eyebrows raised.
“What?” Mom said in surprise. “No. Mark never went to see her by himself. And you know your aunt Luellen would have made sure to tell me if he had.”
“Oh, okay.” She had expected that answer, but it still disappointed her. She gave Nathan a slight shake of her head. She had begun to realize that Mark had probably lied about going to see Aunt Luellen, but a part of her had hoped that in addition to his clandestine activities in Sonoma, Mark had indeed paid Aunt Luellen a visit. She might have found out something about why he’d been here.
“Arissa, I know you said not to, but your father checked his email.”
“Oh, Mom...”
“Wait, listen to me.” There was a strain in her mother’s voice that made her stomach cramp. “Aunt Desiree heard something. Your friend Malaya is missing.”
She wanted to gasp but bit her lip, trying not to react so she wouldn’t alarm Charity.
“Aunt Desiree heard it from Malaya’s neighbors. Her coworker came by her parents’ house because Malaya missed her shift at work, but Malaya’s parents are out of town right now. No one can report her missing to the police since she’s an adult and hasn’t been gone for very long, but everyone’s worried because she never misses work.”
It was true. Malaya was extremely responsible and a little obsessive-compulsive, so missing work was a clear sign something was wrong.
Missing! Because of Arissa? How could she have involved Malaya in all this? Arissa took deep breaths, trying not to be sick all over the grass at the side of the path. She focused on Nathan, who had knelt in front of Charity. His body shielded the little girl from seeing Arissa. She wondered if he had done that on purpose.
“That’ll make a nice bouquet.” He gestured to the wilted flowers clutched in her tiny hands.
“This is for you.” Charity handed Nathan a blue flower.
“Thank you. How’s this?” He tucked it behind his ear, and Charity giggled.
“Arissa?” her mother said in the phone.
“Oh, Mom.” Arissa gave a broken sob, then she took a deep breath. “Don’t let anyone know where you are, all right?”
“We won’t. We promise.”
“I love you. Bye.” She turned, putting her hand to her mouth. She had to stay strong. For Charity.
“Arissa,” Nathan said in a low, calm voice.
She pivoted around. Nathan still crouched with Charity, but watched her with a steady gaze. Liam stood a few feet away, looking anxious.
She took another deep breath, which seemed to help her pull herself together. Then she spoke. “My friend Malaya...”
“The one who lent you her car.”
She nodded. Swallowed. “Mom said that she’s gone missing.”
And it was all her fault.
SEVEN
Arissa sat on the edge of the mattress as Charity sleepily sang to the doll resting on the pillow next to her. She stroked the girl’s soft hair with hands that shook because of the weight of guilt crushing her breastbone.
She didn’t want to move from this spot, from the comfort of sitting next to Charity. She didn’t want to return to the real world and the danger she had to face—the emotions she had to suppress.
But she couldn’t let this news about Malaya paralyze her. There was too much she had to do. She had to keep them safe, without putting anyone else in danger.
She rose to her feet, swaying a moment and taking a deep breath to steady her knees, then walked out of the bedroom.
The smell of butter hitting a hot skillet followed by simmering tomatoes wafted into her as soon as she entered the living room. Nathan stood at the stove stirring something in a small pot, and she saw a frying pan with a sandwich grilling on the other burner. He turned to her. “Since you made Charity a grilled cheese sandwich, I thought I’d make some for us, too. With tomato soup. Sound good?”
The simple act of eating lunch eased the tightness in her shoulder blades. “Great.” She’d felt too stressed to be hungry when making Charity’s sandwich, but now her stomach grumbled.
She helped Liam clear the small table of his paperwork, setting the laptop safely in a corner. Liam eyed her. “You okay?” he asked softly.