comfortable and your bags will be up shortly.”
She left the room and Vivi headed to use the bathroom, locking the door in case Lang came barreling up to let her have it for leaving the utility room. She paused at the mirror, startled for a split second at her own image, still not used to her new reflection.
Leaning on the counter, she got closer, looking at her face. This disguise was supposed to be from a distance, or under a hat and sunglasses. She couldn’t fool Lang, and she probably couldn’t fool those other agents if they spent time here.
She just had to hope Cara would understand that new evidence changed everything and the FBI could betrusted. Exhaustion and jet lag pressed down on her and a muscle throbbed at the base of her neck, as it always did when things weren’t quite right. Since she was a teenager, since… that night… she’d carried her stress in her neck and she usually listened to that miserable muscle when it screamed at her.
Like it was doing now.
She dropped her head forward to stretch her neck, the weight of all the fake hair making it worse. Closing her eyes, she reached up to rub the throbbing pain, bending farther over the sink, tempted by the faucets just inches away. Was it too soon to take off all the crap off her face and—
The force from behind knocked her right into the mirror as one hand slammed over her mouth and another yanked her head farther into her chest with brute strength.
A scream bubbling up with a flash of revulsion and horror triggered by the crush of a man from behind.
She fought the panic, managing to flip her elbow around and get a dig into the ribs of her attacker. The jab of a gun in her back made her freeze.
“Welcome home, Cara.”
CHAPTER 5
H ow the hell did you find this place?” Cara stepped into the cool morning air, the pungent, distinctive smell of salt air clearing her head from the hours of travel and a few milligrams of Xanax.
Next to her on the wide porch, her sister gave a smug shrug. “This is me you’re talking about.” She lifted a steaming mug to her mouth, her brown hair getting frizzier by the moment this close to the sea. Dry California air was much kinder to Joellen’s kinks. “I’m the original miracle worker.”
Or so she liked to think. No doubt Marissa had dug it up and paid a small fortune out of Cara’s bank account for it. A hundred yards away, the surf crashed on a wide beach, the dunes blocking the view to the left and right. “It’s so private.”
“That’s the idea, sister mine. You’re safe here.”
Cara turned to eye Joellen. “This is not Nantucket.”
She shook her head, sharpening mud-brown eyes. “And they say you’re not bright.”
They did? Or she did? “My guess is the Vineyard or Cape Cod, close enough but not on the island crawling with media.” And other people.
“You don’t want to take the chance of being on Nantucket,” Jo said, avoiding the question. “Not even to see Stella.”
At the mention of her dog, Cara let out a sad sigh. No one had been able to find a dog that matched her baby, and it would have been weird for “Cara” to be seen without Stella. And if
he
saw, he’d know that woman wasn’t Cara.
“I’m going with the Vineyard,” she said, based on the color of the sand and the height of the dune grass. She’d been born and raised on Nantucket; these islands off the coast of Cape Cod were in her blood.
“You don’t need to know where we are, hon.” Joellen took a step closer and put a patronizing hand on Cara’s arm. “You’ll slip and tell someone. And he’ll find out. You know he’ll do everything to hunt you down, with his god-awful—hired help. You know he has those minions everywhere, all willing to do anything to—”
“Stop.” Cara held up her hand. She hated when Joellen talked about it. “I won’t tell anyone anything. I haven’t yet, and I won’t.”
“But now he has an excuse to kill you, Cara, and never risk getting
She left the room and Vivi headed to use the bathroom, locking the door in case Lang came barreling up to let her have it for leaving the utility room. She paused at the mirror, startled for a split second at her own image, still not used to her new reflection.
Leaning on the counter, she got closer, looking at her face. This disguise was supposed to be from a distance, or under a hat and sunglasses. She couldn’t fool Lang, and she probably couldn’t fool those other agents if they spent time here.
She just had to hope Cara would understand that new evidence changed everything and the FBI could betrusted. Exhaustion and jet lag pressed down on her and a muscle throbbed at the base of her neck, as it always did when things weren’t quite right. Since she was a teenager, since… that night… she’d carried her stress in her neck and she usually listened to that miserable muscle when it screamed at her.
Like it was doing now.
She dropped her head forward to stretch her neck, the weight of all the fake hair making it worse. Closing her eyes, she reached up to rub the throbbing pain, bending farther over the sink, tempted by the faucets just inches away. Was it too soon to take off all the crap off her face and—
The force from behind knocked her right into the mirror as one hand slammed over her mouth and another yanked her head farther into her chest with brute strength.
A scream bubbling up with a flash of revulsion and horror triggered by the crush of a man from behind.
She fought the panic, managing to flip her elbow around and get a dig into the ribs of her attacker. The jab of a gun in her back made her freeze.
“Welcome home, Cara.”
CHAPTER 5
H ow the hell did you find this place?” Cara stepped into the cool morning air, the pungent, distinctive smell of salt air clearing her head from the hours of travel and a few milligrams of Xanax.
Next to her on the wide porch, her sister gave a smug shrug. “This is me you’re talking about.” She lifted a steaming mug to her mouth, her brown hair getting frizzier by the moment this close to the sea. Dry California air was much kinder to Joellen’s kinks. “I’m the original miracle worker.”
Or so she liked to think. No doubt Marissa had dug it up and paid a small fortune out of Cara’s bank account for it. A hundred yards away, the surf crashed on a wide beach, the dunes blocking the view to the left and right. “It’s so private.”
“That’s the idea, sister mine. You’re safe here.”
Cara turned to eye Joellen. “This is not Nantucket.”
She shook her head, sharpening mud-brown eyes. “And they say you’re not bright.”
They did? Or she did? “My guess is the Vineyard or Cape Cod, close enough but not on the island crawling with media.” And other people.
“You don’t want to take the chance of being on Nantucket,” Jo said, avoiding the question. “Not even to see Stella.”
At the mention of her dog, Cara let out a sad sigh. No one had been able to find a dog that matched her baby, and it would have been weird for “Cara” to be seen without Stella. And if
he
saw, he’d know that woman wasn’t Cara.
“I’m going with the Vineyard,” she said, based on the color of the sand and the height of the dune grass. She’d been born and raised on Nantucket; these islands off the coast of Cape Cod were in her blood.
“You don’t need to know where we are, hon.” Joellen took a step closer and put a patronizing hand on Cara’s arm. “You’ll slip and tell someone. And he’ll find out. You know he’ll do everything to hunt you down, with his god-awful—hired help. You know he has those minions everywhere, all willing to do anything to—”
“Stop.” Cara held up her hand. She hated when Joellen talked about it. “I won’t tell anyone anything. I haven’t yet, and I won’t.”
“But now he has an excuse to kill you, Cara, and never risk getting
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