I WASN’T CONVINCED CAROLYN WOULD SHOW UP UNTIL THE MOMENT I saw her car pull into the lot.
I watched her park, then make her way inside the restaurant. But I didn’t follow her right away. I didn’t even switch off my engine until I was certain she was alone.
ZAPATISTA’S IS ON the first floor of a broad, rectangular office building. The bar takes up the whole of the right-hand wall. Behind it is a giant mirror, partially painted with scenes from the Mexican landscape. Move while you’re waiting to order a drink, and your face suddenly appears from behind a cactus or a mountain. It’s quite a surprise, the first time it happens. Especially if you’ve already had a few.
The area in front of the bar is dominated by a high, rough oak, refectory-style table, surrounded by twenty tall stools. It’s always packed in the evenings, full of younger customers. But that afternoon, it was deserted. It reminded me of a time, shortly after she joined the company, when Carolyn booked it for an AmeriTel Finance department party. It had been a disaster.
The regular tables are scattered haphazardly throughout the rest of the space. Maybe a quarter of them were taken. Mostly by couples. There was the odd family. And at the far end, on her own in the restaurant’s only booth, I spotted Carolyn.
“You’re late.” She was wearing the same dress as earlier, but had switched to a darker cardigan.
There was a bang behind me. I spun around, and saw a kid flinging toys from his high chair.
“Marc, take it easy.” She sipped her coffee. She was drinking it black. “Sit.”
“What’s your decision?” I stayed on my feet.
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is that simple. Are you coming with me? Or not? Yes? Or no?”
“You and your damn one-dimensional universe. You’re impossible. I should never have agreed to meet.”
I took the seat opposite her.
“Thank you, Marc. Look—”
“Why’s that guy staring at me?”
The man at the nearest table turned his head away.
“No one’s staring at you. You’re being paranoid.”
“I’m not. But all that matters is, are you coming?”
“The truth, Marc? I don’t know. My world’s turned upside down so many times, I don’t know which way is up. My life’s been hanging by a thread. You weren’t around when I needed you. And when you were around, you only dug the hole deeper. Meaning I had to do things for myself. I got money. A new identity. An escape route. And now there’s a voice in my head screaming: Take it!”
“Despite what happened this morning?”
“Partly because of what happened this morning. I almost died!”
“And your heart? What’s it telling you?”
“You’re asking about my heart? Marc, please.”
“I am asking. Because I’ve changed. I’ve made mistakes, and I’ve learned from them. I saved your life this morning. And with that guy out of the picture, things are different. There’s nothing to stop us being together. If you want us to be. Sweetheart, please. Come with me. Right now. Let’s go.”
“Slow down. There’s too much to process! Have you learned? Maybe. Have you changed? Definitely. But look what happened at Roger’s! You’ve done messed-up things, Marc! Bad things. Maybe you’ve changed too much. I’m not sure who you are anymore.”
“You said you wanted me to change. That I had to change, to be with you. At that French restaurant, on Monday night.”
“Yes. I did. I meant it. But now you’re scaring me, Marc. There are stories all over the Web about you murdering people. Karl’s dead. And the Homeland Security agent you set me up with? He was an imposter. What the hell was that?”
“I haven’t murdered anyone. And the guy? I thought he was a real agent. He tricked me. It’s complicated. Come with me. I’ll explain while I drive.”
“They’ll be looking for your Jag. It won’t be safe.”
“I’m using the dead guy’s car.”
“You stole a car? You see? This is insane. The Marc I married would never do that. If we’re going to have a future together, we need to straighten things out. We can’t just walk away and pretend nothing happened.”
“Look, Carolyn, I know this has been hell for you. And I know a lot of it was my fault. But I’ve got it figured out now. We can disappear. Together. But we’ve got to go. Now.”
“No. Not unless you can convince me the nightmare’s over. I can’t be running and hiding for the rest of my life. I’m thinking, maybe you could talk to someone? Like Homeland Security? Get some—”
“They’re the last people I could talk to. There’s a database. When they check … they’ll find things. Records. Lies. About me. Incriminating stuff. We need to avoid them like the plague. And we need to get away from here.”
“I don’t think so. We can’t do this on our own. We need help, to get all this weird stuff squared away. We need … You’re late!”
Her gaze suddenly shifted to a point above my left shoulder. I spun around. And saw two men, almost on top of us.
Peever. And the other agent from the supermarket.
Carolyn may have called this getting help.