Chapter Twenty-Six

The weekend in Afognak was blissful, but I can honestly say I have no idea what the island looked like. For all the sightseeing we did, Joe and I could have spent our time in some seedy hotel in Spenard—Anchorage’s red-light district.

When we left the island, the weather in Anchorage was dicey. Ellen was able to time it perfectly so we landed during the only fog-free moment of the day. Since Joe and I were on the afternoon flight to Barrow, we had time to buy groceries to take back in our luggage. By the time we reached Ted Stevens International, the fog was so thick it made pea soup look like Consommé.

Chaos ruled. The morning flights had been cancelled so the terminal was filled with angry tourists and mildly peeved Bush residents who really didn’t mind another day in the big city.

From the look on the ticket agent’s face, the folks in the line I’d chosen were angry tourists. The queue stretching across the ticketing area was twice as long as the one for security. Fortunately, a uniformed woman opened the MVP/First Class station. I dragged Joe over to it, and we were able to check in our meat-and-cheese filled bags without mishap.

Unfortunately, security didn’t have the MVP aisle open. So, we stood in line with all the angry tourists. The mood didn’t lighten when one of the scanners started buzzing and wouldn’t stop. The incessant beeping grated on already tense nerves. TSA agents surrounded the offending machine and discussed possible solutions over the ear-piercing alarm. After what seemed like hours, one agent walked to the wall and yanked the cord from the electric socket. Stunned silence was followed by cheering and applause. Our joy was short-lived because disabling the scanner meant there was only one available, and our long wait to make it past security became even longer.

Oblivious to it all, I stood with my back to the folks in front of me and talked with Joe. Eventually, we made our way through the line. After flashing my boarding pass and ID to the agent perched on his stool like a gargoyle guarding Notre Dame, I pulled out my laptop, took off my shoes, and threw my jacket on the conveyor belt that carried them through the x-ray machine. Ticket in hand, I walked through the metal detector and smiled at the exhausted TSA agent.

“Rough day, huh?” I asked.

“Yeah. Folks don’t like waiting.”

“As my grandpappy used to say, ‘That line is moving as fast as a herd of turtles in a bowl of peanut butter.’”

The agent’s laugh was drowned out when I heard a voice call, “Maggie? Maggie Shaw?”

It took everything I had to act calm, to resist the urge to look in the speaker’s direction. With great indifference, I took my laptop from the gray bin and slipped it into my backpack. I threw my shoes on the floor, stepped into them, and then shrugged the pack onto my shoulder. Tossing my jacket over my arm, I turned to Joe.

“Maggie? Goddammit, I know it’s you. No one says that thang about turtles, buchew.”

The man grabbed my arm and roughly turned me around. Shock, anger, and fear like I’d never known flooded my body as I gazed into the hateful face of Tobias Henderson, Ray’s uncle. With a cold glare, I jerked my arm out of his grasp.

“You look different.” Tobias continued to stare at me. “But your voice is the same.”

Joe moved between us. In his official, I’m a cop-don’t-mess-with-me voice, he said, “Sir, you’re mistaken. You need to move on.” He turned to me. “Anne, are you okay?”

“Anne, huh?” Tobias frowned at me. Joe stepping toward him sent Tobias scrambling, but he hollered at me while he retreated. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, missy, but I’m calling Ray.”

Panic seized my body, but I coolly turned to Joe and asked, “Boardroom?”

We walked past Ray’s sputtering uncle and stepped into the Alaska Airlines Boardroom. I needed some time to think and knew Tobias wouldn’t have a membership. Shoot, I was surprised he was in Alaska. His idea of a luxury vacation was camping at Devil’s Den State Park. I doubt he’d ever left Arkansas before.

Once upstairs, Joe grabbed an Alaskan Amber and brought me a Diet Coke. It was obvious that he had questions, but I serenely snacked on trail mix as my insides quivered. Uncle Tobias. That man made Ray look sophisticated and debonair. The real problem? Compared to Uncle Tobias, Ray was a kitten.

I didn’t have time to quiet my nerves before they announced our flight was boarding. Hand in hand, Joe and I followed the stream of people through the terminal to our departure gate. Just as we approached, I heard, “Damnit Charlene, I told you that was Maggie. Look at her.”

Turning toward the voice, I made direct eye contact with Charlene Henderson. Didn’t flinch. I wanted to prove that I wasn’t Maggie, just some curious person being confused for someone she wasn’t. That’s when it hit me. They were on the flight to Fairbanks and Barrow.

I dug my fingernails into Joe’s hand and said while smiling, “Don’t ask questions. Just follow me.”

We continued past the boarding gate, and I heard Tobias say to Charlene, “That’s Maggie. It has to be.”

My grip on Joe’s hand got tighter as I transferred my desire to bolt into the squeeze.

“Last boarding call for passengers on Flight 51 to Fairbanks and Barrow.”

When we reached gate eight, I pushed my way through the passengers bound for Kodiak and found a chair. I dared not move until I saw the jet to Barrow leave the tarmac.

Then, I passed out.

When I came to, Joe had pulled me onto his lap. “Annie, baby. What’s wrong?”

I tried to sit up, but lost consciousness again. The next time I opened my eyes, paramedics surrounded me. I burst into tears. Shaking, quaking so hard my teeth rattled.

“Does she have a history of epilepsy?” the paramedic asked Joe.

“I don’t think so.” He looked at me with concern-filled eyes.

I struggled to stand, to get away from their prying and prodding hands. “I’m fine.” I scooted away. The paramedics followed my attempt to escape, making me feel cornered. “No!” I screamed. “Dammit, leave me alone.”

Using the wall as leverage, I stood and wobbled. Joe caught me. “Babe. Don’t you think…”

I held up a hand to the paramedics. “I’m fine. Please, just go.” One glance out the window changed my mind. “No, I’m sorry.” I tried to laugh. “I’m a bit out of sorts. Can you take me to the ER?” I collapsed to the floor.

“Anne, what’s going on?” Joe knelt beside me. The concern in his voice made me feel so guilty.

“Later,” was all I said before closing my eyes.

The paramedics put me on a gurney and wheeled me to the elevator that led to the tarmac. Joe followed. Once I was loaded in the ambulance, I breathed again. No walk through the terminal. No risk that Tobias and Charlene hadn’t boarded the plane and were combing the gates looking for me. This way I was out of the airport.

By the time we reached the hospital, the tears had dried up, but the shaking hadn’t stopped.

The wait at the ER wasn’t long, so I didn’t have much time to concoct a story. It was convincing enough for the doctor to give me a prescription for Ativan to lessen my fear of flying. It wasn’t convincing enough for Joe. He saw right through me.

Silence filled the cab ride to the Captain Cook hotel. Joe had called work while I was at the hospital and explained that we’d be on the morning flight.

Once at the hotel, I threw my platinum card on the desk, picked up our keys to the Eagle’s Nest Suite, and headed upstairs. The entire time I was at the hospital, I debated telling Joe the truth. There was no way I could stay in Barrow any longer. Sure, it made much more sense that Tobias and Charlene were going to Fairbanks instead of Barrow. And, they had no way of knowing that I actually lived in Alaska. For all they knew, I could have been visiting, too, but it wasn’t a risk I was willing to take.

I needed to leave Barrow. Had to. Which meant I had to leave Joe. My heart ached.

A new alias and the necessary documents—driver’s license, passport, checkbook, and credit cards—were tucked away in the lining of my backpack. If I simply disappeared in the middle of the night and got on the next plane to anywhere, would Joe miss me? There was still other identity paperwork at my apartment in Barrow. Did I have enough time to return home and erase my tracks? To gather up Cash and Nelson and say goodbye to those folks I cared about?

I was on the run. I wasn’t supposed to care about people. Why was I so stupid? Good God, I cared about people. I had friends. Folks on the run do not have friends. Shit.

One glance at Joe, and my heart melted. His stoic, I’m-a-cop-and-I-can-take-anything face was gone, replaced by the boyfriend, I-care-about-you face.

“Annie, you need to tell me what’s going on. Why did that man bother you so much?” I was okay until he asked, “Who’s Maggie Shaw?”

Hearing my name on Joe’s lips ripped through my dark, undeserving soul. I walked to the honor bar and grabbed a bottle of bourbon. “Want anything?”

He shook his head and said, “You don’t drink.”

“Do now.” I reached into the fridge and grabbed another bottle, then headed to the bathroom. “I’m going to take a bath.” I smiled at him. “Could you indulge me for a little longer? I need to think.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Yeah, you do. You can leave.”

He physically flinched. The muscles along his jaw line twitched as he clenched his teeth, but his only response was a nod.

Steaming hot water filled the giant tub and the smell of lavender kissed the air. I lowered my trembling body into the warmth. The water melted my icy-cold, shocked body from the outside. The bourbon thawed it from the inside.

I couldn’t believe I’d let my guard down. That’s what happens when you’re happy. There’s no reason to protect yourself, to censor every word, to look over your shoulder, or to screen your calls. When did I start feeling that level of security? Friendships had formed without me even realizing. I fell in love with Joe somewhere along the way. Not that I’d ever told him my feelings, but I truly did love him.

Four years. Four years of lies. What would I do if Darlene told me she wasn’t who I thought she was? Owen? Bless his heart. What if he wasn’t the sweet, lovable, caring puppy that I knew? What if he had been an assassin? Would it matter? The past was the past.

Did I feel that way because of my own situation? Would I have felt that way as Maggie?

My relationship with Bernadette was the deepest, most amazing kinship I’d ever experienced. It went beyond friendship, beyond sisterhood. I trusted her implicitly, without hesitation. I loved that woman to my very core, and yet I’d never told her about my past, about Maggie. That made no sense. If anyone would have understood, it would’ve been Bernie. She’d never judge me.

And Joe? Poor Joe. Not a man who gave of himself easily. He had told me that he loved me, but he didn’t have to say the words for me to know that he did. God knows, I-love-yous don’t mean shit. Ray said it all the time, especially after he hit me. He’d snivel and whine and tell me how much he loved me. “Mags, I love you so much. It drives me crazy when I see you talking to other men.” He used this one quite frequently. “I love you so much, Maggie. If you ever left me, I’d hunt you down and kill you. We’d die in each other’s arms.” Or my personal favorite. “It’s a good thing I love you. You’re so fucking fat no one else would have you.”

Joe’s love was real. I could feel it when he touched me, could see it reflected his eyes. He shared his thoughts and dreams with me. Waking up cradled in his warmth, starting the day brightened by his smile, gave me hope.

Hope is what ruins your life. It gives you a reason to get up in the morning, to brush your teeth and face the world. It’s what causes you to lower the barricades and let people past the protective coating that causes emotions to bead up and slide off you like raindrops on a freshly waxed Ferrari.

Who was it that said, “Love is giving someone the ability to destroy you, but trusting them not to”?

Joe did that. He shared those emotional bits, the fun, happy feelings along with the dark fears. He trusted me and talked about things that mattered to him, confided in me about the Susan girl and how her stalking him made him feel. The man was guarded, afraid that he’d do something to cause another woman to misread him.

But with me, he gave his all. Didn’t he deserve the same from me?

Then again, what good would it do to tell him? I had to leave again anyway. Maybe he’d go with me? This time I would go some place tropical. It’s not like Mama and Ray could search every tropical locale and besides, I knew the ones they’d already searched.

Was that fair? To ask him to move even farther away from his mother and the life he was making for himself in Barrow?

I thought of my cozy apartment in Barrow, of Cash and Nelson. Images of Joe sprawled on my bed with one cat on his chest and the other wrapped around his feet made me smile. The sound of his rumbling laughter echoed through my body. His warm hugs comforted me and enveloped my heart as well as my body.

I’m not sure when my ramblings quieted or when the water got cold or when I’d finished the bourbon. By the time that happened, I realized that I wasn’t going to run anymore.

Anne Sutton had a good life in Barrow, and there was no way in hell I was going to let Ray take that away from me. Not Maggie Shaw masquerading as Anne Sutton, but me. Anne Sutton. The son of a bitch wasn’t going to drive me from the life I’d created and for damn sure I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life running from him.

Oh, God, Joe? How could I be mean to him when he’d shown nothing but kindness and patience? I jumped from the tub and wrapped myself in a towel.

Please, God. I’ll do anything. Please let him still be here.

I swung open the bathroom door at the same time Joe was opening the door to the hallway. “Joe, please don’t go.” I wanted to scream the words, but they only came out in a whisper. What if he hadn’t heard? I stepped into the room. “Joe?” I asked as my heart thudded in the pit of my stomach.

When he turned and saw the stricken look on my face, he crossed the room in two strides and wrapped me in his arms. “Babe, I wasn’t leaving,” he whispered against my hair. “I brought in reinforcements.”

“What?” I looked toward the door to see Bernadette.

“Bernie?”

“Yeah, sweetie. I’m in town for a meeting. Joe called.”

“Oh Bernie.” I stepped away from Joe and hugged her. A new fit of tears cascaded down my cheeks. How could I have even considered leaving these lovely people?

When I looked at Joe, he explained, “The stuff in the airport was weird, but when you started drinking I called the chief. She understands your... ‘eccentricities’...better than most.” He grinned.

“Thank you.” I kissed him. “Get comfy. This is going to take a while.” I walked to the bathroom and grabbed the white, fluffy chenille robe from behind the door and dug the box of tissues from its metal confines in the counter. When I strolled back into the bedroom, Bernadette laughed and nodded at the box. “Oh great, it’s going to be one of those talks, isn’t it?”

“Yep, it’s not you. It’s me.”

She laughed, and Joe grinned. He was propped against the headboard, and I crawled up next to him.

“Throw me a pillow,” Bernadette said as she positioned herself at the foot of the bed.

Not the way I pictured this conversation going at all.

“I’m not sure where to start.”

“Who’s Maggie Shaw?” Joe’s question gave me the opening I needed.

“Me. I’m Maggie Shaw, nice to meet you.”

Neither saw the humor in my statement. “I’m Maggie Shaw. I changed my name and moved to Barrow in an attempt to escape an abusive relationship. The guy at the airport was my husband’s uncle.”

Joe tensed and moved away from me when I said the word “husband.” Funny that it never occurred to me that I was committing adultery until that very second.

Tiny shocks of fear vibrated my body. Joe was a man of character. Was I going to lose him? One of the reasons I decided to stop running was because of him. What if he didn’t want to have anything to do with a lying adulterer?

I squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry, Joe. In my mind, he has been ‘ex’ for over six years.” My voice sounded thin and reedy as I tried to force back tears. “I filed for divorce the first time he hit me, but he wouldn’t sign. I might not have the paperwork to prove it, but he’s no longer my husband.”

With a sigh, he kissed my cheek and said, “No problem, babe.”

I lay in that hotel bed surrounded by my friends and spilled my guts. I told them about Ray, the drug dealing, the meth labs, my darling mother, and her time in prison. Told them how I used to mess with Ray by taking off when I felt like it not only when he struck me. Touched on my hacking skills, but I skimmed over the facts about the drug money. They were cops after all.

Absently, I touched my cheek and shuddered when images of Ray seething with rage and swinging a two by four, flashed in my mind.

Bernadette put her hand on my knee and said, “What really happened? I never believed your story about that, sweetie.”

“What? Why?”

“I’ve never seen someone’s eyes cloud up with that much anger when talking about a car accident.”

“Oh.” I chuckled. “I choked on that lie more than once.” Tucked in the safety of Joe’s embrace with my best friend draped across my feet, I finally uttered the words that had been burning a hole in my tongue for years. “My husband was pissed because I had a party without asking him first, so he smacked me in the face with a board.”

Joe squeezed me so tight I thought he’d break a rib.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Bernadette whispered. I knew it hurt her that I didn’t trust her with the truth.

“I’m not sure.” I sighed. “When I first got to Barrow, I was so scared of Ray that I didn’t want anyone to know the truth. By the time I realized he would probably never find me, I was already Anne Sutton, and I didn’t see the point.”

“But...you were lying to people,” Bernadette said.

“No, I wasn’t, Bernie. Don’t you see? Maggie Shaw died. Ray killed her. Anne Sutton rose from her ashes. No matter my name, my feelings for you are real.”

Bernadette rose from the bed and walked to the mini fridge, grabbed all the chocolate, and threw it on the bed. She then pulled out her cell phone and dialed. She turned to me. “Chicken Ranch, right?”

When I realized who she was calling, I smiled and nodded.

She talked into the receiver, then turned to Joe. “Any pizza preference?”

“Not really.”

She disconnected the call and then called the front desk. “Yeah, put it on the room tab.” After hanging up, she turned to me. “Someone from the hotel will pick up the pizza since Moose’s Tooth doesn’t deliver.” She returned to her space at the foot of the bed. “We have some planning to do.”

“What do you have in mind?” I asked.

“Hey, girlie. They didn’t make me Chief of Police just because I’m gorgeous, you know.”

“It should have been reason enough.” I smiled and playfully kicked her with my blanket-covered foot.

By the time the pizza arrived, we were thick in our plotting, but it was Moose’s Tooth pizza. Revenge on an abusive husband could wait a few more minutes.