“Jesus, Annie, don’t you have a coat?” Tom asked.
The rise in elevation and the trip north had turned a chilly night downright cold. Even in her jacket, Gwen was uncomfortably cold, and Annie, with her bare arms, was shivering hard.
“Didn’t get the chance to pick one up,” Annie said, her teeth clattering.
Tom climbed back into his truck and pulled out his jacket, handing it to her. It hung on her like a blanket, the effect making her seem even smaller, younger than before.
“And you’re okay for money?” he asked again.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll be okay, Tom.”
He frowned and chewed his lip, clearly reluctant to leave. He’d parked on the street in front of a motel. They were off one of the first exits for Albuquerque, the motel the first in a series of run-down businesses near the ramp. When he’d woken them some twenty minutes ago, Gwen had asked to stop near a used-car dealership, and she saw one down the block from the motel, exactly the kind she’d wanted—older cars of various makes and models.
Annie hugged him, her arms circling his waist. He stared at Gwen as she did this, his eyes dark and distrustful. She understood this antagonism. He had no reason to trust her, likely thinking she was part of Annie’s mess. Which, as she thought about it, she kind of was.
“What are you going to do, Annie?” he asked when she stepped back. “What’s your plan?”
“I can’t tell you that, Tom. If they catch up to you, it’s better…” She lifted one shoulder.
He was clearly hurt but nodded. “Yeah. I get it.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll get in touch with you once things settle down a little.”
“Okay, Annie, but make sure you call me if you need anything. I check my messages every day, and the police can’t listen to those.”
“Okay, Tom—I’ll call if I have to.”
“What should I tell her? When I call her?”
Annie threw Gwen a quick glance and shook her head. “Don’t tell her anything. I don’t want her mixed up in this. It’s already bad enough that you’re in it.”
Tom sighed. “You know I don’t care about all that, Annie, and she wouldn’t either. I know you. You’re a good person. She knows that, too.” He frowned. “She asks about you all the time. You really should call.”
Again, Annie glanced at Gwen and then shook her head at Tom. “I can’t. I won’t, Tom. I hope she understands why.”
He shrugged. “Maybe she does, but that still doesn’t mean you have to pretend she doesn’t exist.”
Annie squeezed his hand. “I’ll phone her, okay? Once all this is over. I promise. You can tell her I will.”
He gave her another hug and then held out his hand to Gwen. “Nice meeting you.” He clearly didn’t mean it.
“You, too.”
“Take care of my girl, okay?”
“Will do.”
“See ya, kiddo.”
“Bye, Tom,” Annie said.
“Get a coat, for God’s sake. You look like you’re wearing your daddy’s jacket.”
They watched as he climbed back into his truck and stared out the window at them in silence before starting it. Then he gave them a quick salute and slowly drove away, reentering the interstate at the on-ramp a few blocks away. Annie had tears in her eyes, and Gwen walked away to check out the motel while she collected herself.
The office was dark, but Gwen found an after-hours button next to a glass window, pushed it, and waited. Annie joined her long before anyone appeared, and Gwen could hear someone cursing inside and the sound of something breaking, followed by more cursing. An older man finally appeared from a door in the back of the lobby, looking disheveled and upset. They’d obviously gotten him out of bed.
He frowned and actually slowed his pace as he walked across the small lobby. He took his time collecting some paperwork before finally opening the little window. No one spoke for a moment, the man clearly above a simple greeting.
“We need a room,” Annie finally said.
“Might be a problem there,” he said.
“What? Why?”
“We’re remodeling.”
Gwen almost laughed. The place clearly hadn’t been remodeled since it was built—sometime in the fifties, judging by the look of it.
“So what does that mean?” Annie asked. “You don’t have any rooms?”
“Oh, we’ve got a room, but you two don’t want it.”
The guy was giving them a hard time, judging them entirely by appearances and circumstances. He hadn’t seen them get out of the truck, but it was obvious they hadn’t driven here themselves—there was no car behind them. It was the middle of the night, and they were on foot—that meant they were likely homeless or sex workers or both. Gwen couldn’t exactly blame him for his rudeness, but she didn’t have to like it.
“So what do you have?” Gwen asked, trying to keep the anger from her voice.
“One room with a king bed. That’s all.”
Gwen could see by the little sign on the window that it was the most expensive room they had, and she almost laughed at his guile. Only one car sat parked near the motel itself, so unless only two rooms were available at any given time, he was obviously lying and knew they knew he was.
“We’ll take it,” Annie said.
“Cash up front,” the man said, harsh and clipped.
“Of course,” Annie said. She was clearly reading him the same way, her impatience obvious. He gave them a price well over the one posted on the window, but Annie paid without complaint. He seemed surprised and then pretended he couldn’t break her hundred-dollar bill. They both threatened to walk away and find another place, so he finally caved, giving them slightly less money in return than he owed them, sighing and complaining as if they were robbing him. Still, as he didn’t ask for an ID or a credit card, Gwen thought they’d gotten a pretty good deal. The whole situation was promising, in a way, as in the unlikely circumstance their faces were on the news here, or if someone managed to track them here at a later date, he’d be less likely to report them because of the extra money he’d pocketed.
The room was almost as bad as the one they’d been in yesterday afternoon, but Gwen was far beyond caring about niceties now. Despite the three-hour nap in the truck, she felt, if anything, worse than before. Now that they were relatively safe, her exhaustion was finally taking over. She threw down her bag and flung herself on the bed, facedown.
Annie, however, seemed to have found her second wind, and she fluttered around the little room like a caged bird. Gwen was almost able to ignore her—she could feel the welcome drag of sleep trying to pull her down, but she sighed and flopped onto her back, slipping off her boots and scooting up to the pillows. Annie, oblivious to her activity, was still pacing. Gwen watched her a while longer, wondering if she’d eventually notice her gaze, but she was in her own little world, her eyes focused inward, her expression worried and scared.
“Take a load off, lady. You’re making me nervous.”
Annie flinched and stopped, staring at her as if she’d forgotten she was there. She glanced around before perching on the one chair in the corner of the room.
“What’s the matter?” Gwen asked. “Why are you so freaked out? We’re out of Texas—that’s the main thing.”
“No—not really. It’s the first thing. And Tom was right. I don’t know what happens next. I guess I never really believed I’d make it this far. I wanted to try—I had to try, but I didn’t think I’d get out.”
Gwen scooted up a little more on the bed, her prone position too comfortable for her to focus. She rolled her neck a few times, trying to loosen some of the stiffness in her shoulders, and slapped her cheeks lightly to wake herself up.
“What was your plan? Earlier? I thought you said you had one. Something about getting the rest of your money.”
“But that’s what I mean!” Annie said, almost leaping to her feet. “Someone set me up. Someone wants me to be caught again.”
“So why help you get out of prison? Why bother with all that? Why not leave you in there?”
Annie stared at her. “So I won’t talk—won’t give them away. I…know things. Things that would get me a reduced sentence if the police had names, information.”
Gwen rubbed her eyes. “Let me get this straight. You think the people that helped you break out are the same ones that called the police on you? That woman on the phone?”
Annie frowned and then nodded. “It has to be her. Or the other one—the one that hid the envelope. She told me he wasn’t in El Paso, but she could be lying.”
“Call me stupid, but I don’t get it.”
Annie sat down on the bed by Gwen’s feet. “Think about it. The people who break me out, the ones that put that envelope there, they were watching, waiting for me to show up in that parking lot. They knew I was going there—she told me where to go to get it. No one else knew where it was but the two of them. They had to put it there, just in case, so the envelope was actually waiting for me, but all they had to do was make a simple phone call once they saw me get out of the car with you.”
“Why not tell the police where you were? In the building with the envelope? Wouldn’t that have been even easier? If the police had gone there first, we would have been caught for sure.”
“That would have been going too far. By calling in the car, they could still cover their asses. If they’d told them which building I was in, it would give them up entirely.”
“I still don’t follow. Walk me through it, Annie. What’s their motivation?”
“The money, of course! If I told the police about them, they’d lose all that money, whatever’s left, anyway. And, of course, they’d be arrested.”
Gwen’s confusion must have been obvious, as Annie sighed. “Okay, listen. Four years ago, I was desperate for money. A lot of it—more than I could ever earn at my job at the bank. With my position, I could make something happen if I found people who could hide the money. Certain things led me to this woman. She said hiding the money was a sure thing.”
“How could you believe her? Surely you must have known you’d eventually be caught.”
Annie shrugged. “She said they’d never be able to trace it. I’m pretty sure I knew better, but I went along with the plan anyway. I had to have the money. It wasn’t a question of want. I needed it, and desperation doesn’t really begin to explain how much. Then, when I was caught, she made me a deal.”
Gwen suddenly understood. “Ah. If you took the fall, they’d break you out. They’d hide the money and give you your share if you didn’t reveal their names to the police.”
Annie nodded. “Exactly. A few of the others were rounded up—they had to be, but the two…masterminds went scot-free. I got more prison time than the others, because I worked at the bank and admitted to planning the whole thing.”
“With the idea they’d get you out in a couple of years.”
Annie frowned. “It wasn’t even supposed to take that long. Six months, they promised. They strung me along for a while until I threatened to give them up. Then they finally got their act together and planned the escape.” She paused. “Even then, I knew they were trying to screw me.”
“And now you think they’re double-crossing you. If you’re caught again, they can string you along for a few more years, pretend it’ll be harder to get you out a second time. Meanwhile, your prison sentence will be even longer for breaking out.”
“All the while, they’re spending my money.”
“Some of it’s probably already spent. It’s been years now.”
Annie nodded.
“But why wouldn’t you turn them in if you were caught again? That’s the part I don’t get.”
“They’re probably hoping I’ll think someone else turned me in. One of the other bank managers I worked with, Edward, was fired when I was caught. He had nothing to do with any of it, but the bank blamed him for not catching me before the IRS and the FBI got involved. He’s had it out for me ever since. He testified against me and has sent me nasty letters in prison. I finally had to put him on my no-contact list.”
“But you don’t think it’s actually him?”
“How could it be? He didn’t know anything about the breakout. And anyway, he moved to Kansas City a couple of years ago. I mean, I guess it’s possible he’s had some kind of contact in El Paso watching for news about me all this time, but that seems pretty far-fetched, even for him.”
“Do they know he moved? These two ‘masterminds,’ as you call them?”
Annie’s eyebrows shot up. “No. I don’t think they do. Not unless they looked into it. I’ve never mentioned it, anyway.”
Gwen shrugged. “Even if they did, they might have thought you didn’t know.”
“I wouldn’t have, except Tom told me. He was keeping an eye on him after he harassed me.”
Gwen pointed a finger at her. “There you go. They’re counting on your not knowing.”
“Jesus,” Annie said, standing up again. “I’m totally fucked.” She slapped a fist into her palm. “Goddamn it all. They really screwed me.”
“They’re playing a pretty dangerous game. They have to know you’ll figure it out—unless they’re complete idiots.” She paused, wondering if she should ask. “Why not turn them in? Why not call someone right now and tell them all about it?”
Annie seemed briefly hopeful and then shook her head. “No. The police would never believe me. Not unless I turned myself in.”
“They might.”
Annie lifted one shoulder. “Maybe. But then what? I’d still be screwed. I’d have to live like this the rest of my life.” She gestured vaguely at the terrible room. “I can’t use that fake ID now, and I can’t afford another one. At best I could get a crummy job that doesn’t ask too many questions.”
“And you’d lose all that money.”
Annie shook her head. “It was never about the money. Not really. I needed it, but not for myself. It’s too late now, anyway.”
Her eyes filled up with tears, and without thinking about it, Gwen leapt up off the bed and pulled her into an embrace. She let Annie cry against her for a long moment before drawing back a little, hands on Annie’s shoulders.
“Fuck them,” she said.
Annie looked shocked for a second and then laughed. “Easy for you to say.”
“No, really, fuck them. Double-crossing bastards. I don’t expect anything from criminals, but it sounds like they really screwed you.”
Annie shook her head, moving away. “I should have known better. Even now, I’m not surprised. I didn’t actually think I could get away with it, not really, even before we moved all that money. I was so desperate.”
“Why did you do it?”
Annie eyelashes were still sparkling with tears. “I had to, Gwen. The money was for my sister. She’s mentally ill. She needed home care, and I couldn’t afford it.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “Now she’s in an institution, and I can’t do anything to get her out. They’d never release her to me, now.” She paused, collecting herself. “I was hoping I could…make an anonymous trust for her, or something. Get her out of that hospital and pay someone to take care of her full time. Somewhere nice—somewhere pretty. She always loved the beach when we were kids. I was going to ask Tom to help me, once I got the money. He has power of attorney now. I wouldn’t be able to visit, but I’d know she was taken care of. That would be enough. Even if I went to prison for the rest of my life, it would be enough to know she was safe.”
“One point five million dollars would certainly help you do that for her.”
“If it even exists anymore.”
Gwen’s skepticism must have shown in her face, as Annie turned away from her and cried silently. Gwen was tempted to put her hands on Annie’s shoulders, turn her around, and tell her something comforting—a lie, but enough to get her to stop crying. She let the temptation pass, and soon Annie turned back, her face tear-stained but calm, and excused herself for a shower.
As she waited, Gwen walked outside to get them some cold drinks from the vending machine. She didn’t drink soda herself, but the idea of something cold on her parched throat was inviting enough to tempt her to break her usual rules. She bought two of the least repugnant off-brand sodas and stood outside their door, thinking. After the turbulent feelings in the motel room, the cool mountain air was refreshing, invigorating. Despite what she’d said earlier, she didn’t entirely agree with Annie. Something was missing, some part of this whole mess she hadn’t quite understood, some angle they were overlooking. She stood there, an idea forming at the edge of her consciousness, but every time she tried to concentrate on it, it slipped farther away.
She stopped fighting it, knowing it would return with more clarity when she wasn’t exhausted. She took one more deep breath of the thin air and opened the door with her free hand, sodas clutched in the other. As if summoning her, Annie came out of the bathroom at the same time, a towel cinched around her body with one hand, steam roiling behind her like a dreamscape. Gwen froze in place, the door to the room still open.
“Let’s go to bed,” Annie said, and dropped the towel.