cooties.”
“I don’t know why we put up with him.” Sarah winced as cold water hit the scratches. “If his little sister didn’t think the sun shone out of his arse, I’d take him into the middle of the woods and leave him there.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“No, I don’t,” she conceded. She passed the quiche to Lyssa and packed the remainder of the picnic into the cooler. “Besides which, he’d only find his way back. He—”
“Hey, hey, you’re gonna ruin this!” Lyssa had stopped by the kitchen table. Sarah went to peer over her shoulder to see what had caught her attention and found her flicking pieces of grated cheese from the local newspaper.
“Why hasn’t Alex already gotten it framed for you, anyway?” Lyssa asked. “Hell, she even gets a mention on page two.”
“Jesus,” Sarah whispered. For a second, she couldn’t do anything but stare at the front page. Lyssa had unfolded it to display the prominent lead story in all its glory: First responder saves life of newborn baby. The color photograph accompanying the feature was the one taken by the midwife, with Sarah in the center of the shot, facing the camera and smiling broadly. Originally folded with the back page uppermost, the newspaper had lain unread on the table for two days, or was it three days now?
“You said Alex gets a mention?” She tried to make her question sound natural, but Lyssa must have detected the quaver in her voice because she turned around.
“Yeah, page two. They covered the raid,” she said. “You okay? You’re as pale as a ghost.”
“Fine, I’m fine.” Sarah forced herself to smile, but it felt wrong, as if her lips had just twisted in response to something sour. “Not used to being a celebrity,” she said, struggling to think through the possible ramifications. The newspaper had a Web edition, which meant that her image would now be online together with her and Alex’s first names. She thought of the vast array of technological equipment found by the FBI during its searches of Nicholas Deakin’s compound, and wondered how much of it had remained undiscovered, how much his people had managed to salvage before the raids. Castillo had warned her and Alex explicitly: no Facebook or any of the other social network sites, no images in e-mail attachments, and they should stay off the Internet as much as possible. They had done exactly that, keeping e-mails to a minimum and chatting with Ash and Tess through anonymous accounts, avoiding mention of names or locations or anything else that might identify them. They had done everything he had told them to do; they had been so damn careful. It had been bad enough worrying about Emerson, but now the floodgates might have opened: anyone might have seen this paper.
“Shall I bring it out so you can read it?” Lyssa was still looking curiously at her.
Sarah nodded automatically to cover her lapse, then shook her head. “No, it’s okay. You go on out. I’ll just be a minute.”
She took up the newspaper and waited until she could see Lyssa sitting on the grass with Tilly.
“Come on, Alex, answer your damn phone.”
Alex’s cell rang out before switching to voice mail.
“It’s me. Call me as soon as you get this,” Sarah said, and then realized how frightening that must have sounded. “Don’t worry,” she added hurriedly. “Something came up and I need to talk to you before you set off home. Love you.”
She wanted to tell Alex about the paper before she left the hotel, so that she could be vigilant driving home, aware that someone might be out there looking for her, but as Sarah ended the call, she wondered whether she had overreacted. Looking out onto a sun-drenched lawn, she watched Tilly chase a ball for Lyssa, and the terror the photograph had instilled in her began to wane. She would speak to Alex about contacting Castillo, who might be able to tell them the likelihood of anyone tracking them from a single image. Now that she
“I don’t know why we put up with him.” Sarah winced as cold water hit the scratches. “If his little sister didn’t think the sun shone out of his arse, I’d take him into the middle of the woods and leave him there.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“No, I don’t,” she conceded. She passed the quiche to Lyssa and packed the remainder of the picnic into the cooler. “Besides which, he’d only find his way back. He—”
“Hey, hey, you’re gonna ruin this!” Lyssa had stopped by the kitchen table. Sarah went to peer over her shoulder to see what had caught her attention and found her flicking pieces of grated cheese from the local newspaper.
“Why hasn’t Alex already gotten it framed for you, anyway?” Lyssa asked. “Hell, she even gets a mention on page two.”
“Jesus,” Sarah whispered. For a second, she couldn’t do anything but stare at the front page. Lyssa had unfolded it to display the prominent lead story in all its glory: First responder saves life of newborn baby. The color photograph accompanying the feature was the one taken by the midwife, with Sarah in the center of the shot, facing the camera and smiling broadly. Originally folded with the back page uppermost, the newspaper had lain unread on the table for two days, or was it three days now?
“You said Alex gets a mention?” She tried to make her question sound natural, but Lyssa must have detected the quaver in her voice because she turned around.
“Yeah, page two. They covered the raid,” she said. “You okay? You’re as pale as a ghost.”
“Fine, I’m fine.” Sarah forced herself to smile, but it felt wrong, as if her lips had just twisted in response to something sour. “Not used to being a celebrity,” she said, struggling to think through the possible ramifications. The newspaper had a Web edition, which meant that her image would now be online together with her and Alex’s first names. She thought of the vast array of technological equipment found by the FBI during its searches of Nicholas Deakin’s compound, and wondered how much of it had remained undiscovered, how much his people had managed to salvage before the raids. Castillo had warned her and Alex explicitly: no Facebook or any of the other social network sites, no images in e-mail attachments, and they should stay off the Internet as much as possible. They had done exactly that, keeping e-mails to a minimum and chatting with Ash and Tess through anonymous accounts, avoiding mention of names or locations or anything else that might identify them. They had done everything he had told them to do; they had been so damn careful. It had been bad enough worrying about Emerson, but now the floodgates might have opened: anyone might have seen this paper.
“Shall I bring it out so you can read it?” Lyssa was still looking curiously at her.
Sarah nodded automatically to cover her lapse, then shook her head. “No, it’s okay. You go on out. I’ll just be a minute.”
She took up the newspaper and waited until she could see Lyssa sitting on the grass with Tilly.
“Come on, Alex, answer your damn phone.”
Alex’s cell rang out before switching to voice mail.
“It’s me. Call me as soon as you get this,” Sarah said, and then realized how frightening that must have sounded. “Don’t worry,” she added hurriedly. “Something came up and I need to talk to you before you set off home. Love you.”
She wanted to tell Alex about the paper before she left the hotel, so that she could be vigilant driving home, aware that someone might be out there looking for her, but as Sarah ended the call, she wondered whether she had overreacted. Looking out onto a sun-drenched lawn, she watched Tilly chase a ball for Lyssa, and the terror the photograph had instilled in her began to wane. She would speak to Alex about contacting Castillo, who might be able to tell them the likelihood of anyone tracking them from a single image. Now that she
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