A String of Beads by Thomas Perry Page B

Holding Center at the foot
     of Delaware Avenue, or if there was no room, put him in a station holding cell overnight
     and then take him to the Erie County Correctional Facility in Alden. Any police station
     would transport him where he needed to go. The one near the lower end of Franklin
     might be the closest, and that would matter if she and Jimmy were on foot.
    One of the things that had been bothering Jane for the past few days was that she
     always felt a step behind. She had spent years learning to do something risky and
     difficult, and what she knew should have made this easier than it was. Now she was
     about to do something she knew was wrong—walk her friend into a bus station, one of
     the most common places to find people who were running away from something. And instead
     of doing it during the day, when Jimmy would have been surrounded by hundreds of respectable
     travelers, she was going to take him in at midnight, when there would be no more than
     the dozen hollow-eyed, weary people who were on this bus, and maybe a few others waiting
     for the next one. And she was going in with both of them wearing clothes they’d worn
     to jump a train and fight off muggers in an alley.
    Jane had survived so many trips with runners by keeping the odds in her favor. She’d
     taught them to look like everybody else, to change anything that was distinctive,
     to travel without being noticed. She’d told them to avoid confrontations, controversy,
     and even speech, if possible.
    The bus turned onto Ellicott Street. She took a deep breath, let it out, and shook
     Jimmy gently. “We’re in Buffalo.”
    He sat up straight, stretched, and looked around him. There were still some passengers
     asleep nearby, but others sat in the dark interior of the bus, their eyes now open
     and unblinking so they looked like wary night creatures.
    Through the windshield Jane could see the low, lighted building, the roof beside it
     to shelter passengers from weather, and the buses in a row. Just beyond the station
     was an office building like a box with rows of lighted windows. The bus pulled into
     the entrance to the lot, came around the building, and slid into a space in front.
    Jane waited for the first few passengers to file out the door at the front, then stood
     and picked up her backpack. She glanced out the window from her new, higher angle,
     and saw a sight that made her freeze where she stood.
    Through the bus window she saw an elderly female figure wearing a light raincoat over
     a flowered dress, and high-heeled shoes. The woman stood, unmoving, with both hands
     in front of her holding the strap of her purse. She was facing Jane’s window, and
     her eyes seemed to bore into Jane, to demand her attention. A casual observer who
     saw the woman would have passed on to more interesting sights, but Jane recognized
     the woman. She was Alma Rivers, clan mother of the Snipe clan, Jane’s father’s clan.
     Alma’s expression was solemn and her gaze grew more intense. As Jane stood and looked
     down at her through the window, her head moved, slightly but perceptibly, from side
     to side: No .
    Jane whispered to Jimmy, “Get down and stay on the bus.” He nodded and slumped down
     across the seat.
    Jane moved to the open door of the bus, went down the steps, and watched Alma’s eyes
     as she walked toward the station. Alma moved her gaze toward the interior of the station.
    As Jane walked to the station entrance, she could see through the glass what Alma
     had been trying to warn her about. Sitting in a row in the blue plastic molded seats
     were three men in their thirties, watching the line of people waiting beside the bus
     to retrieve their luggage from the compartment in the bus’s side.
    Jane veered and moved along behind their row to avoid giving them an easy look at
     her, while giving herself a chance to study them. One was light blond with a fleshy
     face, and the other two were darker and leaner. None of them had