Aubrey wanted to kill him on the spot. That’s why she’d asked him to leave, so she wouldn’t accidentally take a knife to his throat. Of all the stupid, idiotic things. Josh in a criminal enterprise was an absolute joke. Figured he’d managed to blow it.
She needed Tyler. Needed his brain. He’d know how to pull this off. But he was in jail, again. She’d have to figure this one out herself.
She had an idea. But she couldn’t do any online research—that was too easy to trace. And she couldn’t do a thing out of character. From this moment forward, she was on stage, and she had to give the best performance of her life, or they’d both go down in flames.
He’d asked for her help. She looked around their grandly appointed living room, still devoid of much furniture. After all he’d done for her, now he needed her help.
The tiniest bit of pride swelled in her chest. They could do this. They could find a way.
And to start with, no one would question her going to the library.
She wrote Josh a note and took the car. She was a regular fixture at the Vanderbilt library—she even had a book in the backseat that was due. Perfect.
She had an idea of where to look. She remembered one of her friends in the group home, if you could call her that, bragging about a book she’d read that would help someone disappear without a trace. Where would it be, what section? She couldn’t do a search; she’d have to rely on her memory of the library’s stacks and deduce where it could be under the guise of browsing.
She parked her car, walked in, swiped her card. She returned the book, smiled at the librarian behind the desk, casually pulling out a notebook and heading toward the children’s section. They were used to her finding material for her kids. No one would bat an eye.
Walked down the aisle and made a right turn, back to the adult world.
She thought her best chances were in two areas in the library: travel and psychology. Travel didn’t give her what she was looking for, other than a nice guide to various Caribbean islands, which she was tempted to check out just for fun, but she hit pay dirt in psychology. There were three slim volumes by different authors about personal security, and one specifically about how to disappear. Bingo.
She pulled it from the shelf and held it against her chest so no one could see it. She found an unlocked carrel, entered, closed the door behind her, took a deep breath, and started to read.
? ? ?
It was dark when Josh heard the garage door open again. He’d fed and groomed the dog, put away the groceries, cleaned the kitchen, and made tacos, just to kill the time. He’d been so relieved by her controlled reaction, but as the minutes ticked away, he started to wonder if Aubrey was even going to come back, or if she’d bring home the cops and just have him arrested and call it over.
She came in with a yellow notepad clutched to her chest, curly hair sticking out in all directions, face carefully blank. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her look more beautiful.
“Light a fire. Read all of this. Then burn it. I’m going to take a shower, and then we’ll talk.”
? ? ?
He read the pages. Each sentence made him more afraid. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t pull it off. It was too easy to trip up, to make a simple mistake that would cost them everything. Don’t Google yourself, don’t Google the case, create disinformation—every step would take years to plan out. Panic started to build in his chest. He had to turn himself in. That was the only choice.
Aubrey came down the stairs as he was feeding the pages into the fire. He turned, saw her floating his way, as ethereal and mysterious as the day he first saw her. He’d failed her. He’d failed himself.
He shoved the remaining pages haphazardly into the flames. “I can’t do it.”
“You can. And you will. Because I’m not ready to give up on you. I’ve forgiven your transgressions, Joshua Hamilton. Now you’re going to pay me back.”
? ? ?
It took them a week to make all the plans. In truth, it was simple, and elegant. He watched Aubrey lay out precise lines, marveling at her ability to separate what he’d done from who he was, who he wanted to be for her.
He needed money, which meant he had to double-cross Allen, but that wasn’t a problem. He hated the man for getting him into this mess; he was happy to fuck him over.
Finally, they had it all nailed down. He’d already taken out the insurance policy. Everything was signed, sealed, and delivered. All they had to do was get the date of the meeting, and he’d pull off the heist and be gone. Tennessee would declare him dead after a few years, earlier if his mother fought hard enough, which he figured she would, and then Aubrey would join him, and they could start life over again.
He didn’t know how he was going to live without her that long.
? ? ?
Late one night soon after, lying in bed together, sated and warm, her leg thrown casually over his, the soft sheets kicked to the bottom of the bed, he started to worry again.
“They’re going to think you did it.”
Aubrey gave him a drowsy “Hmm?”