about to get too hot for you. I’m here to help you get out before the temperature takes its upturn.” She walked into the bedroom, where he had no choice but to follow. “I’ve already packed almost everything, and given the place a quick scrub for prints. Don’t touch any smooth surfaces in the house without wiping them off afterwards.”
He saw his suitcase on the bed and walked toward it. He looked at it for a moment, then opened it and stared down at his clothes, his shoes. He could see she had even found the milk carton in the refrigerator, because the money and his next identity were tucked into the pocket.
“Come on,” she coaxed from the doorway. “Don’t worry about what I’ve got. Worry about what I might have missed.”
He turned and stared at her. “Who’s coming?”
She was ready for the question. “There’s a man named Jardine in Los Angeles. He’s a bounty hunter who’s been asking a lot of questions about Brian Vaughn for months. Apparently last night he started asking questions about Charles Langer.”
“What does that mean?”
She held her hands palms upward, then let them fall. “It means he probably asked the wrong person. But the fact that they called me in means that the problem isn’t solved.”
Brian Vaughn sat on the bed. “Do you know a lot about me?”
She sighed in frustration. “I know enough so I’ll be mixing my own drinks on this trip, thank you. Beyond that, I don’t care. I just came to get you out of here.”
His voice carried quiet conviction. “I’m innocent. I didn’t give her the overdose, or drive her anywhere in my car. When I left her, she was in her apartment in New York.”
“Fine,” said Jane. She was on her guard. Something was happening.
“It matters.”
Jane looked at him apologetically. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said. “But I’m sure you must know that my helping you isn’t contingent on my judgment of whether you did it or not. If you could prove that, what would you need us for? We’re in a business. You pay, we take care of you. Now, my best professional advice is to get up, get into the car, and let me take you someplace safe.”
“Where?”
Jane had hoped this would not come up until he was in the car. “I’m supposed to get you back to Chicago. From there they’ll start you over again in a new place. Do you care?”
“Not really,” he said. “I guess it was idle curiosity. I’m not going.”
Jane’s muscles tightened. Chicago was where Christine had seen his boxes. He had spent months there getting his face changed, so she had guessed he would consider it home base. It was also the only place where she could turn him over to policemen who would know where he fit in the Dahlman case, but she was sure that was not what had made him refuse. It was something else. “I’m not particular. If you have another place in mind where you’ll be safe for now, I’ll drive you there and explain it later. But let’s get going before we have to fight our way out.”
“You go,” he said. “Thank you for coming to my rescue, but I’m going to stay here. Since I’ve been here I’ve met several people who once knew me well, and they don’t now. I’ll probably be fine.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
He shrugged. “Then I’ll be dead, I suppose.”
She leaned against the wall and folded her arms. “Suddenly, after all this effort, that doesn’t matter to you?”
His face flashed an expression that began as a smile and ended as a frown. “I made a bad deal. I’ve done what I could to live with it, and begun making a comfortable life here. I’m through being ordered from place to place, and told how to look and act.”
“If you want to disappear, that’s how it’s done.” She shrugged. “You must have known that when you decided to run.”
He looked at her again, his face less troubled. “When I told you I was innocent, I wasn’t sure why I was saying it. I thought it might be a simple reflex, trying to defend myself from what you had said. But it was for me. You see, time moved too quickly for me. One night I was in New York, having just left a young lady at her apartment and gone to my hotel. The next morning my lawyer was on the phone telling me that I was about to be arrested. After that all I had time to think about was playing my part in this elaborate hoax. But since I got here, I’ve had time.”
“Time for what?”
“Until then I didn’t have time to question what I was being told. The simple statement that Amanda had been murdered—I never examined it. Amanda might very well have come back to the hotel, borrowed my car herself, and accidentally taken an overdose. Maybe it was suicide. Any number of things might have happened. I accepted the assumption that it was murder, and the assumption that being innocent would be irrelevant. But once I had made the first move to run, it was too late. I could only go forward. For a long time I told myself I had done the only prudent thing. Now that I’ve had time to think, I believe it was a mistake. I was too trusting of expert opinions.”
Jane shook her head. “You picked a very bad time to start doing your own thinking.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m just telling you this as one human being to another, so you’ll accept it and go on to something else. I’m no longer a client.” He nodded with finality. “You can tell them that. I’m finished. I’m not paying another dime.”
Jane looked at him thoughtfully. He seemed to be exactly what she had hoped he would be: a victim, who had run out of fear, not guilt. Maybe she had arrived at the right time, after he had already begun to understand the way the business worked. He had been the one to bring up money. Could she get him to understand what he had to do to get out of this mess? Christine Manon had been easy to nudge in the right direction, because she had seen enough to be scared. Vaughn didn’t seem to be scared: he seemed defiant. She had to try. She shrugged and said, “You were too trusting. You’re right.”
He looked puzzled. That wasn’t what he had expected her to say. She had to be careful now, and take him through the logical steps. She asked, “How much have you paid to stay hidden this long?”
He gave a mirthless little snort. “A fortune. I suppose we must be up over a million by now, wouldn’t you say? If I went to Chicago with you, that alone would cost me another hundred thousand or more, and that much to get settled the next time. It never seems to end.”
“No,” Jane agreed. “And it won’t. Do you think that they’ll let you simply say, ‘Thanks, but I’m as safe as I want to be’?”
“They won’t?”
“They killed people to get you where you are.”
He gaped, frowned, then said, “They did? Who?”
She let the amazement she felt show on her face. “Where have you been?”
“Here,” he said. “Right here. Why did they kill anyone?”
“There’s quite a list,” said Jane, “each person for a different reason. But unless you know better, the first one was Amanda.”
“How could that be for me?”
“I didn’t mean it was for your convenience or safety. It was for you—in order to get control of you, to take over your life. After that they killed other people—four of them at the surgical clinic because they knew your new face and could connect it with the old one. That was to protect you, because you were theirs. They need to keep you unencumbered and willing to keep paying until your money is gone.”
His face went through a series of fleeting expressions: skepticism, anger, fear. “You’re saying that if I don’t go to Chicago with you, they’ll kill me too, aren’t you?”
She was silent.
He pressed her. “But suppose I did go? At some point they’ll get every cent I have, every cent I can get. What happens then?”
“I don’t know,” said Jane. “I met a woman client who ran out, and one of them implied to her that she could work off future fees as a prostitute. Maybe it was just a mean thing men say to scare women. Maybe it wasn’t. I would guess that they would weigh the likelihood that you could keep bringing in money against the likelihood that you would be caught and talk to the police.”
