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Authors: Rachelle Christensen

Wrong Number (17 page)

BOOK: Wrong Number
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“Hmm, that’s perfect for me,” Aubree said. She walked to the front of the trailer and examined the couch.

“That doubles as a bed when folded out,” the salesman said. “The dining table also converts to a bed for two,”

Aubree peeked inside the tiny bathroom. It had a small bathtub with a showerhead in the corner. “Is it hard to empty the waste water?”

“Come outside, and I’ll show you. This one’s been fitted with some new hoses to make it easier.” He stepped down from the trailer. “We also have a copy of the owner’s manual, which comes in handy.”

Aubree listened while he told her how to put clean water in the tank and empty the waste. She asked several questions and tried to memorize all of his answers.

The price on the trailer was marked at $4,800. Looking around the lot, she noticed a blue Ford pickup. “How old is that truck? It looks kind of beat up.” She saw a dent in the driver’s side door and one on top of the hood.

“That one comes with its own memories. It’s fourteen years old but only has 125,000 miles.” They walked to the pickup as he told her about some of the damage to the body. “It runs great, but since its appearance hasn’t been kept up, we’re only asking $2,500 for it.”

Aubree looked the pickup over and climbed inside to start it up. The salesman showed her some things to look for under the hood. Even with his salesman smile, he was proving to be more helpful than she’d hoped. She didn’t know much about pickups; she just needed something reliable. This pickup was old enough that she wouldn’t have to worry about air bags in the front seat, as Scarlett would have to ride beside her. After looking at a few other pickups and trailers, Aubree made the salesman an offer. “I’d like to take the camp trailer and this pickup now for $6,000.”

“I’m glad you like them, but that’s a pretty low offer. Together they’re $7,300, but I could knock off $500 for you.” He smiled his white-toothed grin as Aubree did some calculating.

“I’ll pay you $6,500 cash right now if you’ll help me get hooked up and out of here.” Aubree smiled as his eyes widened, but he kept his composure. She held out her hand.

He shook it. “Sounds like you’re anxious to get some camping done before the summer’s out.”

“I want to be on my way this weekend.” Aubree winked and then smiled at Scarlett. “It’ll be her first camping trip.”

Forty-five minutes later, she pulled her new camp trailer and pickup across the street into the parking lot of a grocery store. A kind of frenzied excitement gave her a buzz of energy, and she jotted down a list of things they might need. Then she put Scarlett in a grocery cart and pushed her into the store. One hour and a full grocery cart later, she pushed a
grumpy Scarlett out to the trailer. She opened a bottle of baby peaches and fed her hungry baby.

“I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” she told Scarlett. She noted that more time had passed than she’d realized. The hands on her watch reached closer to seven o’clock. She set Scarlett on the floor with a few toys and blankets and worked steadily to stock up her new trailer.

Aubree cleaned out her SUV of every scrap of paper and every detail that she had ever been inside. They would still find it, but she was determined that they wouldn’t find her. She shook her head wondering who “they” really were. Who was she even running from? She took her cell phone out of her purse and made the call she’d been dreading all day. Jason picked up after the first ring.

“Aubree, where are you? I’m going out of my mind here!”

“Jason, listen to me. I trust you, but I don’t trust the FBI right now.”

“But—”

“No, I’m doing this my way,” Aubree interrupted his protests. “I’ll contact you again when I can.”

“Please don’t throw your life away like this,” Jason pleaded.

“Do you have any new information on my case?” Aubree demanded. “Did they find the guy who attacked me?”

Jason hesitated. “Not that I can share over the phone. And no, we’re still looking for the suspect.”

“Then I’m not throwing my life away. I’m taking control of it.” She ran her fingers through her short dark hair. “Thank you for all you’ve done. I’m sorry to do this, but I have to think of Scarlett.” She hung up before he could say any more, then tossed the phone onto the floor of her SUV and locked the doors. She felt a new surge of apprehension wash over her, but she forced herself to shrug it off.

Aubree marveled again at the good fortune of having all the groceries from her shopping trip earlier that day. It seemed like all of that had happened weeks ago, not hours. When she had put away as much as she could, she stopped to settle Scarlett in for the night. By eight o’clock, the baby was sleeping in her car seat in the old pickup, and Aubree was studying a map she had picked up at the grocery store.

She pulled out of the parking lot slowly, getting the feel of her new trailer as she drove. Her Realtor’s office in San Diego had owned several nice trailers they used to help their clients move. Aubree had learned how
to maneuver a trailer quite skillfully over the past few years. She was glad that she had gained such experience, or she would have never dreamed up what she was about to do. The entrance to Interstate 80 loomed before her, and she drove carefully, listening to the radio and running the details of her plan through her mind.

Two-hundred and thirty miles later, at fourteen minutes past midnight, the old blue pickup pulled into Sterling, Colorado. Aubree felt exhausted but happy to put so much distance between herself and Omaha. She found the North Sterling State Park, paid the camping fee, and pulled the trailer into an empty site. She fixed up the convertible couch in the trailer, and then moved Scarlett into the bed with her. With eyes squeezed shut, she concentrated on falling asleep before her mind began racing with worry.

“Ma, ma, ma, ma, ma,” Scarlett babbled happily and pulled Aubree’s hair.

“Well, good morning to you too.” Aubree giggled and kissed Scarlett’s chubby cheeks. It was hard to believe her baby was just shy of nine months old. Aubree ruffled Scarlett’s silky curls and glanced at her watch—six forty-five. It was pretty early, and she could’ve slept much longer, but they had a lot of miles to cover today.

Over breakfast, she studied the atlas and figured that with a stop somewhere for Scarlett’s mid-morning snack, they should reach Steamboat Springs, Colorado, by about one o’clock. Before they left, she carried the box of hair dye she’d purchased the previous night into the restroom at the park.

It wasn’t easy to dye her hair over a sink and keep Scarlett entertained in her car seat, but forty minutes later, Aubree emerged as a redhead. In the trailer, she brushed her “autumn leaf” hair away from her face. In a few months, it would be long enough to put in a ponytail. She had been due for a haircut but hadn’t scheduled it yet. The hair was a few inches past her ears and barely approached the nape of her neck. She ran her fingers through Scarlett’s dark curls and then cleaned up their breakfast mess.

After a few hours of driving, Aubree kept yawning and was glad that feeding Scarlett gave her a reason to stop. She dozed off while she nursed
her baby in the trailer and awoke startled and disoriented a half hour later. She’d been dreaming. Or had it just been her mind racing? The dream had something to do with her mother, and Aubree longed to talk to her, but she knew she couldn’t.

It wasn’t difficult to think who Jason would’ve contacted right after she hung up on him yesterday. Her mom was probably sick with worry, but Aubree couldn’t call and risk giving away her location. It was the only way she could be safe for now.

When the pickup was back on Highway 40, Aubree’s mind returned to a thought she couldn’t shake. It was really an idea, but if her idea proved correct, it might mean the end of all this running. After all, how long did she expect to live on the run? Aubree narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, remembering what she’d told Jason—that she was taking control of her life. She glanced at Scarlett sleeping peacefully in her car seat. What other choice did she have?

S
IXTEEN

I

LL FIND HER
.” Jason slammed the phone down and looked at the files scattered across his desk. His director wanted to see results, not the lead witness in the Robert Walden assassination gone missing. He had to find Aubree—not just because his director wanted him to but because he was afraid if he didn’t someone else would.

He flipped open a red file folder—his signature color for prime suspects—and looked at the contents he’d put together only hours earlier. Information was pointing in all directions, and he wasn’t sure how many leaks he had to fill before Aubree would be safe. Rolling up his sleeves, he clenched his jaw and picked up the phone. “I need to be involved in the Miranda Olsen interrogation.” He paused, “Yes, it’s regarding the Aubree Stewart case—she’s missing.”

After a short rest and a delicious Caesar salad in Steamboat Springs, Aubree and Scarlett resumed their travel and soon crossed over the Utah border. Opting to take the least traveled route possible, they steered clear of the interstates and sailed along Highway 40.

Scarlett babbled and played with the colorful rings hanging from her car seat. When she tired of that, she gave Aubree an earful of crying and then slept for long stretches. They passed through Vernal, Utah, and Aubree only had to stop a couple times among the desert and dinosaur monuments to change Scarlett’s diaper and feed her.

At about six in the evening, Aubree reached Heber City and breathed a sigh of relief.

“We’re almost there, baby,” Aubree said. “Tomorrow, we’ll do some real camping.” They ate at a quiet restaurant, and Aubree watched people coming and going, listening to bits of their conversations.

“You going camping in the Uintas?” one man asked a guy decked out in hiking attire.

“Yeah. The trails should be good this time of year.”

“Well, don’t forget your slicker. It rains somewhere in those mountains every day of the year.”

Aubree took note and later stopped at a general store to pick up a few more supplies, including a warm sleeping bag. She checked the tires of her pickup and trailer and found a small RV site not far from the restaurant. She hooked up to the water and decided to try out her new shower. It was a bit cramped, but at least she was clean. She even gave Scarlett a bath in the half size tub and laughed as Scarlett continually splashed the water and giggled.

“I think we’re going to be okay, darlin’,” Aubree said. She had hardly spoken to anyone all day and felt sure no one would be looking for her in a tiny Utah town called Heber City. She probably could’ve driven further that night, but the anxiety and worry from the day before and the strain from driving all day had completely exhausted her. She cuddled up next to Scarlett just after eight o’clock, and they both slept until the sun rose over the mountains.

Shaking off her nightmares, Aubree breathed in the cool mountain air filtering in through her trailer windows. Now that it was July, it would be plenty hot during the day, but the nights in the mountains would still be chilly. By seven-thirty in the morning, they were driving past beautiful three-story houses in Heber.

Thirty minutes later, she passed through the small town of Kamas. The old pick-up held its own on the steep ascents. She felt her ears pop and noticed the tops of mountain peaks getting closer. A simple one-lane road would be her path through the high Uinta Mountains. It was such a feeling of freedom to look out over pine trees and the shimmering quaking aspens and know that, right now, no one knew where she was.

BOOK: Wrong Number
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