I didn’t know if I could trust Vonnie, or if Werther might have gotten to her somehow. My supervisor at the restaurant would assume the cops had caught up with me. Len would know something was wrong, but it was a stretch to expect him to stick his neck out any further for me than he already had. I was growing to like him, but the reality was, we barely knew each other. It was a sobering thought.
I sat for a while longer, thinking about what I had with me. Twenty bucks and a credit card. Maybe I could find a cheap motel somewhere, but the cops could probably track me based on my credit card use. I really didn’t know much about that stuff, beyond the fact that with technology today, if somebody wanted to find me, they would.
The more I thought about how to get out of this, the angrier I got. I was completely alone. No close friends, no family worth a damn. How the hell had my life come to this? I was not going to become some statistic... some kind of bullshit Illuminati conspiracy victim. This was America. People weren’t supposed to be hauled away by the police on trumped-up charges to face god-knew-what at the hands of creepy government officials. I refused to lie down for this.
The counter girl was beginning to look decidedly twitchy. I figured it would be a good idea to relocate before she started to think about calling her manager or asking me to leave. There was a grocery store a few blocks away that would be much busier. I figured crowds would be my friend right now. Anonymity was what I needed.
Taking a deep breath, I stood and gathered my things, then left the deli. As I glanced around the area, there didn’t seem to be anybody looking for me. Still, I didn’t want to take any chances. I put my hood up as I started walking down the cracked sidewalk.
It was a busy street, so nobody would pay much mind to me... I hoped. But I kept my head down just in case. After a couple of blocks, I reached the grocery store and went inside. The pharmacy was beside the restrooms, and there were benches in the hallway outside. Sitting here, I would look like any other customer waiting for a prescription to be filled. The noise of tinny Muzak and people talking would cover the details of a quiet phone conversation, as long as no one decided to plop down on the same bench as me.
To discourage that, I set my bag down next to me, taking up way more space than I really needed. Still full of my earlier determination to do whatever it took to get out of this, I pulled my phone out, took a deep breath, and called my dad.
I could predict with reasonable certainty how this conversation was going to go. But the fact remained, he was the only resource I hadn’t tried to use yet. Realistically, at this point, he was the only resource I had left.
After a few rings, he answered.
“Dad?” My hands were shaking just holding my cell.
“Zorah? Is that you? I’m working, what do you want?” Short. To the point. Exactly what I’d expected.
“Yeah, sorry. Listen, I really need you, Dad. Something’s happened.”
The phone went silent for a long moment. I seemed to be having that effect on people a lot today. Then, “Are you okay? What is it?”
Holy crap. Was that concern in his voice?
“No. I’m not okay, Dad. I need help.” I couldn’t lie, as much as I wanted to. As much as I wanted to pretend I was strong, and that I had my shit together, I really, really didn’t right now. “Something real bad is going on, and I don’t know what to do. Last night at AJ’s, this creepy guy came in and harassed me for my entire shift—start to finish. He kept asking me things like if I lived in town, and how old I was. He even asked if you and Mom were alive.”
My voice trembled on the last sentence. I took a deep breath and plunged ahead.
“Then today, I went to MMHA and the same guy was there, claiming to be an auditor for the state. He was saying that I embezzled money and committed fraud, which I swear to you I didn’t. I had the supporting documents all ready to prove that I hadn’t done anything wrong, but he wouldn’t even let me defend myself. My supervisor fired me on the spot, and this guy threatened me on my way out. When I went home, there were cop cars surrounding the house, and a guy at AJ’s told me over the phone that cops were there, too, looking for me. I’m so sorry to dump this on you, Dad... but I don’t know what to do. I didn’t know who else to call. I’m afraid. Really fucking afraid. What do I do?”
Finally, I ran out of breath and the tumbling words fell silent. I knew what came next, and tried to brace for it. You’ve always been trouble. I told you something like this would happen eventually.
When he spoke, I had to replay the words in my head to make sure I’d heard them properly.
“Find the nearest Western Union location to wherever you are right now. I’ll wire you money anonymously so you can buy a bus ticket to Chicago.”
Wait, what?
Stunned, I scrambled to phrase a reply. My father was organizing an escape plan... for me? This wasn’t how our relationship worked. I’d hoped for, well, honestly I wasn’t sure what I’d hoped for. Some kind of advice on finding a lawyer. Maybe an insight into how the Department of Revenue and the state auditor’s office processed things like this.
Not... real help. Not
