The bag could go in the trunk. But closing the trunk might wake Mom.
I hesitated, then leaned over the front seat and picked up the bag. I pulled my body out of the car and eased my door shut. Peered through the window. Mom didn’t move.
The few steps to the hotel flamed my body with heat. Was the shape of the gun evident through the tote bag? What if a hotel employee called the police? What if Rutger was following me this very moment? Everything within me wanted to throw wild looks over my shoulder. Was he just waiting until we slipped into a room so he could break down the door? My nerves sizzled and my breaths puffed.
How could I live like this?
A tiny voice in my head hissed that I had it all wrong. I’d fallen down a rabbit hole of pure paranoia. My problem wasn’t Bad People chasing me. It was my own delirious brain. Bad People I could run from. My brain, I could not.
Sweat popped out on my forehead as I opened the door.
The small lobby sat empty and foreboding. A young woman behind the counter shot me a penetrating look, as if she saw right through me. The sound of a TV filtered from the employee office behind the counter. I tried to smile. It came out lopsided.
“I need a room for today.”
“Today? As in checking out at noon?” Her name badge read
Tina.
Of course, what was I thinking? My heart sank. Check-in would be around 3 p.m. “I don’t know if we’ll be out by noon. So maybe I should say for today and tonight.” Would that cost me double? My cash would run out so fast.
“So, checking out by noon tomorrow?”
Not that we’d stay here—or anywhere—near that long. “Yes.”
The hotel had an available room. Two queen beds. “I’ll take it.” I slipped a glance out the front door. Mom still seemed to be sleeping.
“Okay, I’ll need a credit card.”
Credit card. That could be traced.
“I’d like to pay in cash. I don’t . . . believe in credit cards.”
Well, not at the moment, anyway.
“Okaaay. How about a bank debit card?”
I swallowed. A debit card could be traced too.
“It’s just to hold funds against your room. If you pay in cash tomorrow, we’ll release the hold right away.”
But wouldn’t that hold show up in my bank account immediately? Even quicker than a credit card charge.
I stood there, vacillating. Feeling my face go hot. “Can I just give you cash to hold against the room?”
“We’d have to take money for three days. Gives us a cushion against incidental charges.”
Three days. That would be close to $375.00. “Will I get back what I don’t use?”
“Yes.” Tina regarded me steadily, but I could almost hear her mind working. What kind of person didn’t want to show her credit or debit card? Everything I was doing was making me more memorable.
Then it hit my tired brain. Even with cash, she’d want to see my driver’s license. I’d still be traceable. But only if the Bad People managed to trace me to this hotel. If I didn’t use a credit or debit card, that would be so much harder.
I nodded. Tried to smile again. “Okay. I’ll give you cash for three days.” I tilted my purse as I pulled out my wallet so Tina wouldn’t see the gun inside. With trembling fingers I handed over the money. Had Tina noticed? “Sorry. I’ve been driving too long.”
Her head dipped. “You do look tired. Let’s get you a room so you can rest.”
She asked to see my driver’s license. With reluctance, I showed it to her.
“Okay, Mrs. Shire.”
I winced at the sound of my name.
Tina gave me the plastic room key in a small holder with the unit number written on it. “You can come through here and go down the hall, or you can park down there a ways”—she pointed—“and go through the outside door closer to the room.”
“Great. Thanks.”
I got out of there as fast as possible without seeming obvious. As I slid behind the car wheel, Mom still slept. How I envied her that ability.
I drove toward the door at the end of the hotel, turned around, and backed into a parking space. Didn’t want my license plate blaring out to the world.
Wait. A license plate sat on the front of my car as well.
I closed my eyes, bringing two fingers to my forehead. Such a little thing, yet so big. So indicative that I had no idea what I was doing.
With some difficulty I woke Mom and got her moving. I gave her the bag of groceries to carry. I gathered my purse, her suitcase, our coats, the tote bag. Loaded down, I struggled to find enough fingers to push the key into the slot and open the outside door into the hotel. When we reached our room, I had to manage the feat a second time.
Once inside I locked and bolted the door. Dropped everything but the tote on the floor. The bed looked so inviting it almost made me cry.
Mom looked around, lost. “Is there a bathroom?”
“In here.” I walked over and turned on the light for her. She went inside and closed the door.
I hid the tote bag under a pillow on one of the beds. Then sat down hard. Now what? We had so little. I didn’t even have a toothbrush or change of clothes. All I had were two guns, one of them not registered to me. And I had a mother suffering from dementia with needs I wouldn’t be able to meet.
I had
to call Emily, tell her we were okay. Why hadn’t I found a pay phone before checking into a hotel?
And I needed a different car. Couldn’t keep driving my own with people looking for it. But I couldn’t rent a car without leaving a trail.
Plus I’d soon need more money. But how would I get it without leaving a paper trail?
My head hung. Hot tears stung my eyes.
Lord, please help me. I have no idea what to do.
Mom shuffled out of the bathroom. Her face drooped with tiredness. I pulled myself together and stood. “We have to call Emily. She’s worried about us.”
“Okay. I’ll tell her we’re fine.”
“But we have to use a pay phone.”
“Oh.” Mom frowned. “Why?”
“It’s safest.”
“Oh.”
I should have done this first. How stupid of me. Now we’d have to go back out and search for a phone at a gas station. More driving around—as the sun rose. More danger.
Purse over my arm—with gun still inside—I mobilized the two of us and headed for the parking lot. We both wore our coats against the chilled air. In the car I drove to the gas station across the road, already open for the day, but saw no pay phone.
On the other side of the exit was a second station, also open. Two cars were getting gas. There I spotted a phone—and my heart surged. I pulled up in front of it.
“Stay in here, Mom, I’ll just be a minute.”
“I want to talk—”
“Next time. Right now I have to hurry.”
I got out before she could protest.
Breath on hold, I fingered multiple quarters from my wallet and fed the first into the slot. It had been so long since I’d used a pay phone, I hardly remembered how they worked. Or if I had enough coins.
I dialed Emily’s number and was told how much money to put in for the first three minutes. I fed in the quarters, the
ching-ching
rattling my nerves. As her line rang I prayed she’d answer the unfamiliar number.
“Hello?” Emily sounded on edge.
“It’s me.”
“Oh! Where
are
you?”
“We’re at a hotel off I-5. Not far down from Highway 152. I’m using a pay phone.”
“No one followed you?”
“Not that I could see.”
Emily breathed over the line. “Is Grand okay?”
“Yes. Confused, but okay.” I glanced over my shoulder. Mom still sat in the car.
“Mom, listen, this is real bad. I watched the video.”
“What?”
“The video. I downloaded it from our online backup account.”
No
. My chin sank toward my chest. “Emily, I didn’t want you to do that! I don’t want you involved in this.”
“Mom, I
make
videos all day long, remember? Meanwhile, you’re out there running and hiding and scaring me to death. What did you expect me to do, just hang around and wait to hear from you? I’d go crazy. And it’s a good thing I didn’t.”
I swallowed hard. My brain was too tired to think of what consequences her action might have. And I didn’t like the raw fear in her voice.
“So I watched it over and over—and saw something. At the bottom of the video there’s noise. You probably didn’t see it. Sort of looks like a blurry picture or static on a TV. I brought my computer into work and used our equipment to study it more. Once I could make out the static, I saw it’s a long series of numbers and letters. Looks like an encrypted message.”
I blinked. Not once had I noticed any static on the video.
What to ask first? “Can you break the encryption?”
“No. You need the key.”
“Oh.”
“What if that’s what Morton Leringer was trying to tell you? He gave you the flash drive, right? Maybe he was trying to tell you where to find the key.”
I took a deep breath. My whole body felt weighted. “Maybe. He did try to say some word that started with
K
or
C.
Maybe the key’s in Raleigh?”
“Don’t know.”
My eyes closed. If I weren’t so tired, I could
think.
“So why are these people after me? I have a video that I can’t understand, with encrypted data I can’t read. What threat am I?”
Two new cars pulled into the gas station. I checked out the drivers, then turned away.
“Because they think Morton told you something. If he was killed for trying to stop people from committing some terrorist act, they’d be scared he told you where to find the key before he died. Maybe that key could stop the event.”
Emily’s words clawed through me. “Terrorist act?”
“I Googled a machine like the one in the video. It
is
a power generator, just like that deputy said. And then I found another video online that’s a lot like this one. Guess what it’s about? It was a CNN report from some years ago on how a power generator could be hacked into by terrorists and blown up. I think these guys who are chasing you are going to do that.”
Oh.
Oh.
“You mean they want to shut down electricity.” My words dropped like stones. “Why would Leringer be involved in such a thing? I researched him and found all the companies he owns. He looks like a successful businessman, not a terrorist.”
“I don’t think he is a terrorist. I think he found out about this plan—whatever it is—and was killed for it. The words he said to you are about stopping it.”
No wonder Morton had been so insistent. So terrified.
“And I told Harcroft and Wade everything Morton said. Now they want to kill me too.”
Both of those men must be in on it.
My knees went weak. My mother and I were caught up in some heinous terrorist plot? Those people would as soon kill you as look at you if you got in their way.
Which was exactly what they’d tried to do.
“Mom, something else. I should have told you before, but I was pretty much in shock. No one at the sheriff’s department had to tell anyone that you made a copy of the video. Those people could figure that out on their own. All they’d have to do is look at the properties of the file and see the date and time it was created.”
What?
My mind reeled more. Why hadn’t I thought of that?
“So you should go to the police right now. You don’t have to be scared of them. You have
a lot
of reasons to be scared of the other guys. Besides, Wade and Harcroft need to know all this. If someone’s planning a terrorist act, they have to stop it.”
I shook my head. “Emily, they have the same video you have. In fact, they’ve got the original. If you could figure out it holds an encrypted message, don’t you think they could too? They must have shown it to their techs right away.”
And if the Half Moon Bay sheriff’s substation thought a terrorist act was about to occur, they wouldn’t sit on that information. Wouldn’t they call the FBI or somebody?
“Yeah,” Emily said. “They might know. If they have the software to study it.”
I hung on the phone, feeling sick. Split in two. I so wanted to believe I could go to the police right now and entrust myself and Mom into their protection. We wouldn’t have to run. They’d put Mom and me somewhere until they caught these guys. But . . .
“Mom?”
“I’m here.”
“Go to the police. Now.”
I licked my lips. “I’m not sure I can.”
“Why?”
How to explain the feeling in my gut? I thought over everything that had happened. How from the very beginning Harcroft had seemed suspicious when I insisted Leringer hadn’t said anything to me. How soon the fake FBI agents had shown up my house. How soon Samuelson had returned after I’d told Wade and Harcroft everything.
“Mom, talk to me!”
For the next few minutes, I tried to explain. “And think about it. Those fake FBI agents could have killed me and your grandmother when they first came to the house. But they didn’t. They tried to kill me
after
I’d met with Harcroft and Wade. After I’d told those two men everything Morton said.”
“Mom, you really think some sheriff’s deputy—”
“I don’t know, Emily. That’s just it. I
don’t know
. So—what if I go to the authorities? And what if Wade or Harcroft
are
working with the terrorists? Isn’t that what terrorists try to do—recruit insiders? How perfect would that be.”
“And what if they’re not? And you keep running, with
no
protection, and those guys find you?” Emily’s voice bent upward. “You and Grand are both
dead
!”
My heart thrashed. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”
“Go to the police, that’s what!”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Once that’s done, there’s no going back. I think I should just return to the hotel for now. For an hour or two. Let me think this through.”
Behind me a car door opened. I turned to see Mom getting out. I lowered the phone to my shoulder. “Mom, stay there.”
She pushed to her feet.
“Please, Mom! I’ll just be a minute.”
She walked toward me, leaving her door open, the car’s inside light shining. Might as well send a message to our pursuers: Here we are!