Chapter Two

It was three hours and several transfers later when Presley stepped off the bus at her final destination—an industrial section of Columbus, Ohio. She was careful to keep her eyes down and the brim of her baseball cap pulled low as she turned onto the dark, deserted street. It had been more than a year since she’d visited the area, but it still looked familiar and almost dear—despite the dead leaves mixed with litter that blew around her feet and the garish graffiti sprayed on the weathered brick walls.

The air was cold, and the heavy clouds above her spit snow in spurts. Anxious to be gone before conditions deteriorated further, Presley increased her pace. Finally she reached the storage facility—several long rows of units surrounded by a ten-foot chain-link fence. Tears stung her eyes, and her hands trembled as she put in the code at the gate.

Once she was inside the enclosure, the sound of her shoes striking the concrete echoed through the empty space, bouncing off the cinderblock walls and metal, garage-style doors. At the fourth row, she turned into the gaping darkness. Her mouth was dry; her neck ached with stress. Finally she reached number 417.

Presley entered another combination on the lock’s keypad. As she waited for the lock to respond, she was startled by a noise from across the large lot. It sounded like someone had dropped a heavy, metal object, maybe a crowbar. Her hands started to tremble again. But she had come so far, too far, to give up now.

She looked back at the keypad and saw a green light flashing in approval. She grasped the door handle and jerked upward. The mechanism squealed in resistance, but slowly, the door rose. She turned on her flashlight and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

The unit contained only one item. Centered in the middle, facing the door, and covered with a dusty canvas tarp was her father’s Aston Martin coupe. Purchased just a year before his death, it was, in her mother’s opinion, a futile effort to stay the hands of time. According to her father, it was the fulfillment of a well-deserved dream. He had rented this storage unit, conveniently located halfway between the mechanic’s shop and his office, as a temporary holding spot. Whenever the Aston needed maintenance, he dropped it off here. The mechanic picked it up and put it back when he was finished. The car had been trapped in this limbo for almost a year. Like the loss of her parents, the car was something she hadn’t been able to face. But she was more than facing the car now. She was going to drive out of this storage room, away from Ohio, and into a new life.

Presley pulled off the canvas and coughed as dust billowed in the small space. She heard an engine start somewhere nearby followed by the sound of people talking. Boxes scraped against the concrete floor of a neighboring unit. She had chosen to retrieve the Aston in the middle of the night, thinking she would be the only customer at the storage facility. The fact that she wasn’t alone was a little unnerving.

With an effort she controlled her anxiety. No one knew she was there. She wasn’t in any danger. But she decided to quicken her pace as a precaution.

Presley located the spare key hidden in the magnetic box by the license plate. She pushed the unlock button, and the interior lights gave an anemic flash, indicating that the battery was weak after a year of inactivity. She removed a portable battery charger from her father’s emergency kit in the trunk and hooked it up. Then she opened the driver’s door and slipped behind the wheel.

There wasn’t time to think about her father or how much he had loved this car. Sentimentality was a luxury she couldn’t afford. She had to work quickly if the new life she’d planned was to become a reality.

Once the key was in the ignition, she turned it, and the engine roared to life. A wave of relief washed over her. But she couldn’t celebrate yet. Presley opened the glove compartment and removed the .38 caliber pistol her father kept there. She didn’t like guns, but he’d made sure she knew how to use one. After checking that it was loaded, she reset the safety, put the gun in her pocket, and climbed out of the car. She unhooked the battery charger before closing the Aston’s sleek hood. She reopened the door to the storage unit, causing a jarring metallic rattle. Then she got back in the car and drove out into the space that separated the rows of storage buildings.

Presley didn’t want to waste time closing the door of unit 417 but knew she had to do it. An open door would draw attention—which she couldn’t afford. So she left the car and hurried back to the storage unit. As she replaced the combination lock, she sensed a presence. Someone had stepped between her and the starlit sky, casting a vague shadow. In her peripheral vision, she saw a large man standing a few yards away. And right between them was the Aston, the engine purring.

“Nice car.” His voice was soft and forced, like a stage whisper.

She knew that the flashy sports car might be targeted by thieves, but she hadn’t expected it to be a problem so soon. She also knew she should be glad if all the man wanted was the Aston. But without transportation she had no way to carry out her desperate escape plan. She could accept defeat, but she’d found that accepting defeat was easy; living with defeat was not. So instead she put her hand into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out the gun. Then she turned around to face the threat.

She had hoped that when the man saw the gun he’d step back. All she needed was a couple of feet so she could jump into the car before he had a chance to intercept her. But instead of backing up, he moved forward.

“Now why you wanna go and pull a gun on me, Calamity Jane?” Moonlight glinted off the shaved head of Roger “Moon” Smith. The pale skin that had earned him his nickname fairly glowed in the dimness.

“Moon?” She felt weak with relief. “What are you doing here?”

“Been following you,” he admitted without remorse.

Her relief evaporated. Moon was a career criminal. So although she had helped his lawyer get an acquittal, the one—and probably only—time he had been falsely accused of a crime, Presley knew she couldn’t trust him. Especially not out here in the dark. Not when he’d just admitted to following her. And not when possession of a very expensive car hung in the balance. Her fingers tightened around the gun. “You were supposed to meet me at the Jeffersonville exit.”

“You should have had that gun in your hand before you got out of the car,” he said.

She acknowledged her foolishness with a little shrug. “It was a rookie mistake.”

He gave her a crooked-toothed grin. “Now you can put it away. You wouldn’t shoot me.”

He was wrong. She didn’t want to shoot him, but she would if she had to. “Step away from the car, Moon. I’ve got to go.”

He didn’t move. “But I’ve got all kinds of stuff to give you.”

“You can give it to me at the Flying J like we planned.”

”You don’t trust me?” His tone was aggrieved.

“I don’t trust anyone.”

“Good girl. That’s the way to stay safe.” He moved back several paces.

“Why did you follow me?” she asked, keeping the gun pointed at his chest.

“This is a dangerous part of town. I couldn’t let you come here alone.”

Presley was offended. “I could have handled it. I have a gun.”

Moon laughed derisively. “Yeah, if I wanted to, I’d have you, the fancy car, and your gun. So put it away. You’re as likely to shoot yourself as me.”

Presley couldn’t dispute this possibility, so she decided to trust him. She put the gun back in her pocket. “I really need to get out of here.”

“First I gotta put some new license plates on your car.”

“How did you know I was picking up a car?”

“Dr. Khan told me.” Moon pulled a little tool from his shirt pocket. “I’ll just use my lock-pick.”

Presley rolled her eyes. “You might want to throw that lock-pick away, Moon. I’m leaving town, so if you get in trouble with the law again, I won’t be here to help you.”

He grinned. “Lock-picking ain’t my specialty anyway.”

She hated to imagine what he considered his specialty to be, so she didn’t respond.

He continued, “A friend of mine hooked us up with these plates. If anybody checks they’ll find an Aston Martin registered to Dr. Khan. That way nobody can trace the car back to you or your father.”

Presley had to admit it was wise and probably necessary, but she hated for Dr. Khan to become more involved in her problems.

Moon finished with the license plates and pulled an envelope from inside his jacket. “Here’s some other stuff you’ll need. There’s more money and a letter saying you have permission to drive the doctor’s car. I got you a disposable phone so I can warn you if trouble’s on the way. My number’s already programmed in. Feel free to call me if you need something.”

She stared at the envelope for a few seconds, feeling unpleasantly obligated to both Moon and Dr. Khan. Finally she reached for it. “There is no way I can ever adequately thank either of you.”

“Hey, I owe you,” Moon claimed. “You believed in me when nobody else did.”

Researching his case had been mostly a way to escape boredom, so she didn’t deserve his loyalty. But she needed it, so she nodded. “I’ve got to go.”

Moon walked along beside her and watched as she slid in under the wheel of the Aston.

“So you’re just going to run away from the past.” It wasn’t a question.

Presley nodded. “If I stay here, I’ll still be in the past.”

“Dr. Khan says we can fight it . . .” he tried.

“I can’t put Dr. Khan or the hospital at risk. I will fight it—from a distance. If I can straighten things out, maybe I’ll come back.”

Presley was never coming back to Columbus, and Moon must have known that, but he didn’t contradict her.

“Don’t follow me,” she added. “I’m on my own from this point forward.”

Moon feigned indignation. “You think I ain’t got better things to do than follow you around?”

Presley was familiar with this evasive tactic. She used it often herself. “Moon.”

“I won’t follow you,” he muttered.

“Thank you again, for everything,” she told him, “but this is good-bye.”

Moon smiled and gave her a little salute. “Off you go into the wild blue yonder!”

She shook her head as she closed the door and put the car in gear. Moments later she was driving down the dark streets of Columbus, leaving the storage facility and Moon and the past behind her.