for me Will you die before you'll tell anyone else what I tell you'
He looked at her for a moment. She was leaning back on two legs of the chair, both feet resting on the sill.
He said, 'The knife I got in my back was just the first attempt. I would be dead by now if you hadn't taken me out. I owe you a life already.'
She met his eyes and nodded. 'Jane Whitefield.'
'Pleased to meet you.'
'I'm glad you're pleased, because we'll be spending some time together.'
'We will'
'There are tricks to changing who you are and living as a new person. I've got to start getting you ready to live a nice, quiet life somewhere as John Robert Leland. It takes preparation to do it well, but we didn't have time for that.'
'Are you warning me that I'll get caught if I try to do this myself'
She looked at him thoughtfully. 'Not getting caught is partly luck, partly attitude, and partly premeditation. But it depends mostly on who's looking and how hard. There are something like twelve million illegal aliens in this country right now. Nobody finds them because nobody's looking. Men convicted of murders are on the other end of the spectrum. Lots of people are searching, and they tend to be the last people you'd want after you-experienced homicide detectives, federal and state agencies, and all the miscellaneous invisible security companies that protect credit cards, give people ratings, make sure nobody runs out on debts.'
'What do I do-stay in this room'
'We'll try to stay invisible as long as we can, but not here. Most people called escapees have walked away from work-release programs. The ones who actually break out are usually caught within hours a few miles from the prison. You've already lasted longer than most. But if you stay in a hotel too long, the staff people get curious about you because you're not behaving like an ordinary customer. You have to either give them an explanation that satisfies them and doesn't raise other questions, or go. We need to pick up your sister, so we'll leave as soon as we're ready to travel.'
'What do we do'
'First we work on our appearance.'
'You mean change'
'There are lots of things that help. The clothes I left in the car for you at the courthouse were all expensive and neat-tailored pants, dress shirts, sport coats, a couple of good ties in subdued patterns. When people picture an escaped convict, they think of a guy with a three-day growth of beard, dirty, torn clothes, and a haunted expression. So we play against that expectation. You have short hair, and we can't lengthen it, but we can dye it. Your hair is blond, and most of the men in the country have brown hair. You can't shave it, because a shaved head practically screams prison. We want the observer's mind to see you and automatically think, `Respectable, prosperous.''
'What if somebody has seen my picture'
'People are far more likely to see someone who looks a bit like you, but isn't, and turn him in. Whenever there's a famous fugitive, the police get thousands of calls. What we want to do is make sure none of them is about you. We make people's expectations censor their vision.'
'That works'
'More often than not. The first part of the game is adding one layer after another of changes, all designed to make you less like you and less like a convict. The second is making a plan for the day when something goes wrong.'
'If the police find me, then they'll come for me in a way that won't let me just talk my way out of it.'
Jane said, 'If the police who find you know you've been convicted of murder and you've escaped from a courthouse, give up and go quietly. If you're just stopped by a cop, don't assume he knows anything. Lie. Show him the John Leland identification I left in the car for you. Try to fool him to the end. Don't worry. We'll work on all of it. Where are the keys to your car'
He got up, took them out of a sport coat he had hung in the closet, and handed them to her. 'Are you going somewhere'
'Shopping. I'll get us some dinner and a few things we'll need for the next phase. Anything in particular you'd like'
'I've been in prison for three years. I'm not too picky. Should I come with you I'm good at carrying heavy bags.'
'Thanks, but not yet,' she said. 'For now, I'll be the one to show my face. I'll be back in less than two hours. When I knock, look in the peephole before you open the door. Don't open it and look. Oh, and I seem to be out of money. Can you give me a few hundred from the money I left in the car for you' He pulled a wad of money out of his pocket and handed it to her. She walked to the door, and then she was gone.
Jane went to his car, got in, drove the perimeter of the hotel grounds, and then made a circuit of the neighborhood. There were no vehicles parked in sight of the hotel with people waiting in them, no loiterers across the street in Pioneer Park.
She drove to a large plaza dominated by a supermarket. She parked near the back of the lot, and selected a cart that someone had left far from the rack. She found that she could use it like a walker to take the weight off her healing right leg. She bought a cooked chicken, salad, and vege-tables for dinner, and then bought food they would need on the road-bottled water, cookies, nuts, fruit. She loaded it all into the car, and then went to the Target store beside the supermarket. She bought hair dyes, an electric razor, a pair of scissors, and a hand mirror. She found makeup that lightened her complexion a bit, and some tanning lotion. She bought sunglasses, hats, polo shirts for Shelby, sweaters, pullovers, and pants that would cover her bruises and burns. The last item was a small suitcase.
When she had finished her shopping, she drove along the boulevard until she saw a gas station that had a pair of pay telephones on the wall outside. She stopped and filled up the tank, then went to the telephones, put in five quarters, and dialed the number of the old stone house in Amherst, New York.
'Hello'
'Carey. It's me.'
She heard the huff of air leaving his lungs, then heard the breath of air he took and she could picture him, standing in the kitchen. 'Are you all right'
'I'm okay. It's been a little hairy, so I couldn't call before now. I just wanted to let you know that the hard part seems to be over, so you shouldn't worry about me too much from here on.'
'I'll try to worry exactly the right amount. How much is that'
'I'm sorry,' she said. 'It was stupid to put it that way. Don't worry at all.'
'I assume you can't say where you are or who you're with. Can you say when you'll be home'
'Not yet. I would guess it will be at least a few more days. There's a lot to do this time. I wish it were now, but it can't be. I miss you so much I could cry. In fact I guess I am.'
'And I miss you.'
'What have you told people about me'
He sounded weary. 'I told them you've gone back into the consulting business because you missed the excitement, and you're helping a company change its supply and distribution systems to survive the hard times. They think you must have gone back to work because we've lost our savings in the market, so they just look at me with sympathy.'
'That's very well done.'
'Thanks. I've become an amazing liar-an undiscovered talent.'
'I'm sorry,' she said. 'Look, I've got to go. I'm not sure when I can call again, so don't think anything has happened if I don't. I love you.'
'I love you. If everything is okay, why are you crying'
'The usual reason. Because I want to be with you and I'm not.' She sniffed. 'I'm sorry, Carey. But I've got to go. Bye.'
She hung up the telephone, went to the car, and drove off. She hated these telephone calls. They were always from pay phones, always rushed. 'I'm sorry' and 'I love you' and lies to him to make him think that what she
