Passions in the North Country (Siren Publishing Classic) (2 page)

“I’ll leave the key on the kitchen counter,” she said with a smile.

“I’ll pick it up later tonight.” He shook her hand. “You were a model tenant, Ms. Ashbury. I wish you all the best.”

“Thank you.”

“But tell me, why the sudden decision? Are you moving out of the city?”

“I’m heading west,” she said. “Los Angeles. I always wanted to do that and now I’m going to.”

“Good idea. Do things before you get tied down.”

Jenny said good-bye, then drove back to her apartment and made a few calls. She cancelled her cable and Internet, then phoned her friends and told them she had decided to move to Los Angeles. They were shocked and every one of them asked about Ivan, but Jenny said they had decided to split up. All of them, thinking Jenny and Ivan were the perfect couple, expressed their condolences. Jenny thanked them and said she and Ivan had come to a mutual understanding and parted “amicably.”

“Different goals in life,” she said, which was true. His goal was to be with her. Her goal was to be away from him.

As far away as possible.

Jenny gathered her suitcases and personal items and put them into the backseat of her car. Inside one of the suitcases was all her worldly wealth, some three thousand and fifty dollars. Almost all her ties to Florida were now gone. She stopped at the hotel where her manager, a kindly old man in his seventies, handed her, in cash, another two thousand dollars.

“I’ll miss you the most, Arnie,” Jenny said with a brave smile.

“Go,” he replied, “and disappear. Like I told you, my niece went back to a man like Ivan and he ended up killing her. I told her to leave him but she wouldn’t listen.” Arnie smiled. “Somewhere out there is the man for you, but I could tell from the beginning that this guy is bad news.”

She held out her hands.

He held them and looked at her in a gentle way. “Didn’t I say that from the very beginning, Jenny?”

“You did. I should have listened.”

“Well, you’re listening now and that’s all that counts.”

“I’m sorry to leave you on such short notice.”

“You have no choice, dear. He’s dangerous. I can see it in his eyes. He’s as cold as a lizard.”

Jenny nodded slightly and then kissed the old man on the cheek. “Bye, Arnie. You’ve always been a great friend.”

“Bye, Jenny.”

She forced a smile.

“It’ll get better, I promise. But you have to leave. Get as far away from Pensacola as possible.”

Jenny drove to the mall, dropped off her cell phone, and paid the balance of her contract. That was the last thing connecting her to the old life. She was now a free woman, but only as free as a slave fleeing on the old Underground Railroad. Like a slave, she was literally running for her life. Those who owned humans in days long passed could authorize capture and return, the maiming of the individual, or termination. Ivan would be insane with anger. His passion, she knew, would be to find her and to terminate. That’s what it was like, quite literally. She had a terminator named Ivan Wiley ready to get turned on and programmed. It was just a matter of time. A matter of mere hours until he realized she had duped him.

She drove to western Mississippi and stopped at a post office to mail a letter. In the letter she told Ivan their relationship was over. She wished him the best, but said she wanted to take a new direction in life. She was going to settle in Los Angeles and begin afresh. Jenny then pulled out of the parking lot and turned east. Everything was going exactly according to plan, right down to him receiving a letter with a postmark that had a more western postmark stamped on it. Now it was time to head in the opposite direction. She glanced at her watch and cringed. Ivan would soon be landing and the moment he could, he would call a number that no longer existed. Jenny was a ghost to him now, a memory, but she was also a target, and he would not stop until he killed her. Beyond all doubt, she understood that.

“Just leave me alone, Ivan!” she exclaimed angrily, tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t want you in my life! Where’s my knight in shining armor that will protect me from you?”

The next few days were a blur. Jenny drove north, stopped overnight in Virginia, then headed for the Canadian border. A dual citizenship, compliments of a French Canadian mother and a father from Michigan, was just an idle curiosity all her life, one she never even mentioned. But now, like an ace up the sleeve, it was a welcome salvation. Jenny could literally hide in another country, burying herself so deep that Ivan could never find her. He would sniff and prowl like a coyote chasing a rabbit, but there were some big woods out there, and that’s where she was headed, to the big woods of the north country.

Jenny crossed the border in Ontario, briefly thought about settling in Toronto, then headed east. She would have liked to live in Montreal, the birthplace of her mother, but she didn’t know a word of French. She did spend one night in the city, though, and drove in Quebec most of the next day, savoring the French Canadian flavors and sensibilities. She was especially impressed with the elegance of the women and the European sophistication of Quebec City.

She drove into New Brunswick and bought some hair coloring at a drug store. That night she stayed in a small motel and in the morning she cut off her long, beautiful blonde hair just below her ears. Then she dyed her hair a deep auburn color. When she was finished, she looked totally different, but she was a woman with such a beautiful face that short hair enhanced, rather than detracted from, her appearance. She put on a bandana and sunglasses, like one of those mysterious women in a Hitchcock movie, and pulled away from the motel.

Jenny bent down the rearview mirror and looked at herself. The transformation was amazing, so much so that she did not recognize the stranger looking back at her. Literally, she did not recognize the face. It was an amazing, liberating feeling. All that was left to do was change her name. At that point she would be totally and absolutely disconnected from her past, as if the old Jenny Ashbury no longer existed. The metamorphosis would be complete.

Ivan would not find her in a million years…Or so she hoped.

* * * *

Late in the afternoon she crossed into the small province of Nova Scotia and eventually found herself heading south on a busy highway. Passing exits, she wondered at each one if this was the place that would become her new home. Then Ivan’s threats started echoing in her head, over and over again, like a broken record she could not turn off. Every nerve in her body was on edge, and she knew by now that the hunt was on in earnest. Big time. Ivan was going crazy, his mind racked with confusion and anxiety, his heart set on revenge of the most hideous kind. He would slay her, destroy her, strike her down with a furious vengeance—but only if he could find her.

On the spur of the moment Jenny left the highway and drove along an unpopulated country road. In time, like someone awakening from a restless sleep, she suddenly became conscious of her surroundings and noticed a sign that read “Newbridge 20 miles,” and, below it, the words “Nova Scotia’s Hidden Jewel.”

Newbridge, Jenny thought, liking the name. She was leaving one life and entering a new one, but she needed a bridge to cross. A new bridge. New challenges. New people. A new location. “Yes, Newbridge,” she mumbled. “That’s where I’m going.”

Just at dusk, a rusty station wagon whipped around the corner, veering over the center line. As it approached, Jenny saw two scruffy men wearing plaid shirts. They slowly corrected the steering and stared hard at her. A lump formed in her throat. She glanced into the mirror as they passed and noticed a single brake light come on, then the car pulled onto the shoulder. Were they turning around to come after her? Jenny again looked into the mirror and but lost sight of them as she rounded the corner. She sped up and fear welled up inside her.

By now her anxiety was peaking. In every man she saw trouble, in every woman, a spy. It was as if everyone knew that she was running for her life, as though a flashing billboard betrayed her secrets. They were laughing at her clumsy attempt at concealment, and absolutely everyone was aware she had cut and dyed her hair. At times she wanted to just come out and say it, to put all the subterfuge and lies behind her, but that would have been a disaster. Her life was now a lie, and only lies could save her.

Jenny bit her lip and knitted her brows, but though she kept checking the rearview mirror, she did not see the strangers following in the old car. If she had, she might have lost it. Suddenly, behind her in the distance, she saw headlights flash in her back trail. Those men! They were coming back for her, like ravenous wolves bearing down on a tender fawn stuck in deep snow. No, she would not be a victim any longer. She sped up.

She checked the mirror, her breathing shallow, her heart pounding. So strong was the apprehension that Jenny studied the mirror a moment too long. She drifted to the right and slipped off the pavement at a point where the shoulder was low and the edge jagged. The inside of the front tire instantly ripped.

Thump, thump, thump.

Though she swerved back onto the road and continued driving, it soon became apparent the car would literally travel no farther. She had to stop. Up ahead, to her left, was a small parking area overlooking the ocean. Jenny pulled into it. No one else was there and she felt a tremendous sense of loneliness. For a moment, just a moment, she almost—almost—wished she was back in Florida. At least there everything was familiar. But Ivan was there, too, and any sentimental value for her home was more than offset by memories of him.

A short time later the car behind her passed. It was a small, foreign-made car driven by a woman. Had she known that, she would have flagged her down. It started to sputter rain. Jenny realized she would either have to walk all the way to Newbridge in the rain, sit in the car the entire night, or entice someone to stop and help.

Ten minutes passed. No one came.

On this warm, rainy evening in mid-June, Jenny Ashbury had never felt more alone in her life. She felt a crushing, staggering sense of loneliness. Yet as darkness began to settle over the Atlantic, its vastness stretching further than the eye could see, a sense of calm suddenly started to pervade in her spirit. The ocean put everything into perspective. Its contempt for time made her realize how insignificant were the dramas of human life. We live, we die, but the ocean just keeps on rolling, oblivious to people with their hopes and dreams and fears. In an odd kind of way, her own insignificance made her feel strangely powerful. She was nothing but a speck in the universe, which made her problems an even smaller speck.

As the light faded into darkness, Jenny was jolted back to reality. She was stranded on a darkening road in a strange place. Her sense of power evaporated like morning dew in a parched desert. One moment she felt powerful, and the next she felt anything but powerful. Jenny Ashbury was a mess. Her life had crumbled around her and everything was chaos happening at lightning speed, as if she had been drawn up into a Kansas twister and was holding on for dear life. She had no job, no prospects, no home, no past…no anything. She didn’t even have a reason to exist. Really, if she disappeared, who would even notice? Only Ivan, she was sure, and that was only because he would be upset he did not have a chance to kill her himself.

The mere thought of him made her shudder. But what to do? Walk…Along this road? No, it was now raining harder. It was better to stay in the car. The car was at least familiar, comforting.

More time passed…

Jenny tried to remain composed, but it became more difficult by the second. Total darkness fell and not a single car passed in either direction. There really was no reason to feel any heightened sense of fear, but what had begun as a dull foreboding grew by degrees into accepted fact. Any moment those rough men who passed her earlier would round the corner. What then? No one would hear her screams. No one would rescue her.

She could stand it no longer. Jenny broke down and hot tears flowed, slowly at first, then in a torrent. It was as if she had restrained a great dam of emotions during a long storm. Now, able to be contained no longer, the dam burst in a gushing, headlong wave, her sobs fracturing the silence of the enveloping darkness.

She felt a stifling sense of vulnerability. She was tired of the world, the cold, anonymous world. Life was too difficult, much, much too difficult. In a way it would be a relief to just die and fade away. At least then there would be peace. And all she had ever asked for was a good and decent life, a man to love, a family someday. But nothing of the sort was to be hers. She was reduced to the life of a fugitive who always has to look over her shoulder. She would never find love, happiness, peace. At best she could hope to survive and exist.

By now it was raining hard and she was getting legitimately scared. Suddenly headlights flashed up the road. The thought crossed her mind that Ivan might have been tracking her somehow. He was into all the latest technology and just days earlier he had watched a television report on tracking cars with a GPS device. Jenny could tell he was fascinated with the concept. Given time, she was sure, he would have been monitoring her. Hopefully he had not gotten the device before she ran.

Jenny got out of her car and hurried to the road. The vehicle rounded the corner and came toward her, its wipers steadily swishing. Was this salvation? Or was it those men? Those men, who, like Ivan, wanted to hurt her? Was it, somehow, Ivan himself? Jenny’s heart raced, torn between hope and terror. If she had to, she would run into the woods. She would run so fast they would never catch her. But if they somehow did, they were not going to take her without a fight. This time she would not cower in fear from a man. She would kick and scratch and do whatever it took.

As the vehicle approached, part of her wanted to flag it down and another part of her wanted to run. And what if it really was those men? Drunken, lawless men? This was worse than a Hitchcock movie. This was real. And in her mind she was about to become an innocent victim, a curiosity for some grizzled homicide detective.