CHAPTER NINE

LuAnn stopped at a gas station rest room and cleaned up as best as she could. She cleaned the wound on her jaw, pulled a Band-Aid out of Lisa's diaper bag, and covered the cut with it. While Lisa slurped contentedly on a bottle, LuAnn bought her lottery ticket and some ointment and gauze at the local 7-Eleven. As part of the ten numbers she picked, she used her own and Lisa's birthdays.

“People been coming in here like damn cattle,” said the clerk, who was a friend of hers named Bobby.

“What happened there?” he asked, pointing to the large Band-Aid on her face.

“Fell and cut myself,” she said quickly. “So what's the jackpot up to?” LuAnn asked.

“A cool sixty-five mil and counting.” Bobby's eyes gleamed with anticipation. “I got a dozen tickets myself. I'm feeling good about this one, LuAnn. Hey, you know that movie where the cop gives the waitress half his lottery winnings? LuAnn, tell you what, darling, I win this thing, I'll give half to you, cross my heart.”

“I appreciate that, Bobby, but what exactly do I have to do for the money?”

“Why, marry me, o' course.” Bobby grinned as he handed her the ticket she had purchased. “So what do you say, how about half of yours if you win? We'll still get hitched.”

“I think I'll just play this one all by myself. Besides, I thought you were engaged to Mary Anne Simmons.”

“I was, but that was last week.” Bobby looked her up and down in obvious admiration. “Duane is dumb as dirt.”

LuAnn jammed the ticket far down into her jeans. “You been seeing much of him lately?”

Bobby shook his head. “Nah, he's been keeping to himself lately. I heard he's been spending a lot of time over Gwinnett County way. Got some business over there or something.”

“What kind of business?”

Bobby shrugged. “Don't know. Don't want to know. Got better things to do with my time than worry about the likes of him.”

“Duane come into some money that you know of?”

“Come to think of it, he was flashing some cash around the other night. I thought maybe he won the lottery. If he did, I think I'll just go kill myself right now. Damn, she looks just like you.” Bobby gave Lisa's cheek a gentle rub. “You change your mind about splitting the pot or marrying me, you just let me know, sweet cheeks. I get off at seven.”

“I'll see you around, Bobby.”

At a nearby pay phone, LuAnn dialed the number again and once again Jackson picked it up on the first ring. She gave him the ten digits from her ticket and she could hear him rustling paper on the other end of the line as he wrote them down.

“Read them to me once more, slowly,” he said. “As you can understand, we can't have any mistakes now.”

She read them again and he read them back to her.

“Good,” he said. “Very good. Well, now the hard part is over. Get on the train, do your little press conference, and sail away into the sunset.”

“I'm going to the train station right now.”

“Someone will meet you at Penn Station and take you to your hotel.”

“I thought I was going to New York.”

“That's the name of the train station in New York, LuAnn,” Jackson said impatiently. “The person meeting you will have a description of you and Lisa.” He paused. “I'm assuming you're bringing her.”

“She don't go, I don't go.”

“That's not what I meant, LuAnn, of course you can bring her. However, I trust you did not include Duane in the travel plans.”

LuAnn swallowed hard as she thought back to the bloodstains on Duane's shirt, how he had fallen off the couch and never moved again. “Duane won't be coming,” she said.

“Excellent,” Jackson said. “Enjoy your trip.”

The bus dropped off LuAnn and Lisa at the train station in Atlanta. After her phone call with Jackson, she had stopped at the Wal-Mart and purchased some essentials for herself and Lisa, which were in a bag slung over her shoulder; her own torn shirt had been replaced with a new one. A cowboy hat and a pair of sunglasses hid her face. She had thoroughly cleaned and dressed the knife wound in the rest room. It felt a lot better. She went to the ticket counter to purchase her train ticket to New York. And that's when LuAnn made a big mistake.

“Name, please,” the agent said.

LuAnn was fiddling with a fussing Lisa and thus answered automatically, “LuAnn Tyler.” She caught her breath as soon as she said it. She looked at the clerk, who was busily typing the information into her computer. LuAnn couldn't change it now. That would obviously make the woman suspicious. She swallowed hard and hoped to God the slip would not come back to haunt her. The woman recommended the Deluxe sleeping car accommodations since LuAnn was traveling with a baby. “There's one available and it has a private shower and all,” the woman said. LuAnn quickly agreed. While the ticket was being processed, the sales agent raised an eyebrow when LuAnn pulled some bills from under Lisa's baby seat to pay for the ticket, stuffing the rest in her pocket.

LuAnn observed the woman's look, thought quickly, and smiled at her. “My rainy day money. Figured I might as well use it while the weather's nice. Go up to New York and see the sights.”

“Well, enjoy yourself,” the woman said, “but be careful. You shouldn't be carrying a lot of cash up there. My husband and I made that mistake when we went years ago. We weren't five minutes out of the train station when we got robbed. Had to call my mother to send us some money so we could come home.”

“Thanks, I'll be real careful.”

The woman looked behind LuAnn. “Where's your luggage?”

“Oh, I like to travel light. Besides, we got family up there. Thanks again.” LuAnn turned and walked toward the departure area.

The woman stared after her and then turned back and was startled by the person who had seemingly appeared from nowhere and was now standing in front of her window. The man in the dark leather jacket put his hands on the counter. “One-way ticket to New York City, please,” Anthony Romanello said politely and then stole a sideways glance in LuAnn's direction. He had watched through the plate glass of the 7-Eleven as LuAnn had purchased her lottery ticket. Next, he had observed her make the phone call from the pay phone, although he had not risked getting close enough to overhear the conversation. The fact that she was now on her way to New York had piqued his curiosity to the maximum. He had many reasons for wanting to leave the area as quickly as possible, anyway. Even though his assignment was over, finding out what LuAnn Tyler was up to and why she was going to New York was just an added inducement. It was all the more convenient because he happened to live there. It could be she was simply running from the bodies in the trailer. Or it could be more. Much more. He took the train ticket and headed toward the platform.

LuAnn stood well back from the tracks when the train came noisily into the station a bit behind schedule. With the aid of a conductor she found her compartment. The Deluxe Viewliner sleeping compartment had a lower bunk, an upper bunk, an armchair, sink, toilet, and private shower. Because of the lateness of the hour, and with LuAnn's permission, the attendant changed the compartment to its sleeping configuration. After he was finished, LuAnn closed the door to the room, sat down in the armchair, pulled out a bottle, and started feeding Lisa as the train slid smoothly out of the station half an hour later. The train gathered speed and soon LuAnn was watching the countryside sail by through the two large picture windows. She finished feeding Lisa and cradled the little girl against her chest to burp her. That accomplished, LuAnn turned Lisa around and started playing with her, doing patty cake and singing songs, which the delighted little girl joined in on in her own unique fashion. They passed an hour or so playing together until Lisa finally grew tired and LuAnn put her in the baby carrier.

LuAnn sat back and tried to relax. She had never been on a train before, and the gliding sensation and rhythmic click of the wheels was making her drowsy as well. It was hard to remember the last time she had slept, and she started to drift off. LuAnn awoke with a start several hours later. It must be nearly midnight, she thought. She suddenly recalled that she hadn't eaten all day. It hadn't seemed important with everything that had happened. She popped her head out the compartment door, spied an attendant, and asked if there was food on the train. The man looked a little surprised and glanced at his watch. “They made the last call for dinner several hours ago, ma'am. The dining car is closed now.”

“Oh,” LuAnn said. It wouldn't be the first time she had gone hungry. At least Lisa had eaten.

However, when the man caught sight of Lisa and then looked at how tired LuAnn seemed, he smiled kindly and told her to wait just a bit. Twenty minutes later he came back with a tray loaded with food and even set it out for her, using the lower bunk as an impromptu table. LuAnn tipped him generously from her stash of funds. After he left, she devoured her meal. She wiped off her hands and reached carefully into her pocket and pulled out the lottery ticket. She looked over at Lisa; the little girl's hands were gently swaying in her slumber, a smile played across the small features. Must be a nice dream, LuAnn thought, smiling at the precious sight.

LuAnn's features grew softer and she leaned down and spoke quietly into Lisa's tiny ear. “Momma's gonna be able to take care of you now, baby, like I should've been doing all along. The man says we can go anywhere, do anything.” She stroked Lisa's chin and nuzzled her cheek with the back of her hand. “Where you wanta go, baby doll? You name it, we'll go. How's that sound? That sound good?”

LuAnn locked the door and laid Lisa down on the bed, checking to make sure the straps on the baby seat were tight. LuAnn lay back on the bed and curled her body protectively around her daughter. While the train made its way to New York City, she stared out the window into the darkness, wondering mightily about what was going to come next.

CHAPTER TEN

The train had been delayed at several points along the route and it was nearly three-thirty in the afternoon when LuAnn and Lisa emerged into the frenzy of Penn Station. LuAnn had never seen this many people in one place in all her life. She looked around, dazed, as people and luggage flew past her like sprays of buckshot. She tightened her grip on Lisa's carrier as the train ticket agent's warning came back to her. Her arm was still throbbing painfully, but she figured she could still deck just about anybody who tried something. She looked down at Lisa. With so many interesting things going on around her, the little girl seemed ready to explode out of her seat. LuAnn moved slowly forward, not knowing how to get out of the place. She saw a sign for Madison Square Garden and vaguely recalled that several years ago she had watched a boxing match on TV that had been telecast from there. Jackson said someone would be here, but LuAnn couldn't imagine how the person would find her in the middle of all this chaos.

She jerked slightly as the man brushed against her. LuAnn looked up into dark brown eyes with a silvery mustache resting below the broad, flattened nose. For an instant LuAnn wondered if he was the man she had seen fighting at the Garden; however, she quickly realized that he was much too old, at least in his early fifties. He had the breadth of shoulders, flattened, crusty ears, and battered face, though, that marked the man as an ex-boxer.

“Miss Tyler?” His voice was low but clear. “Mr. Jackson sent me to pick you up.”

LuAnn nodded and put out her hand. “Call me LuAnn. What's your name?”

The man started for an instant. “That's not really important. Please follow me, I have a car waiting.” He started to walk away.

“I really like to know people's names,” LuAnn said, without budging.

He came back to her, looking slightly irritated, although somewhere in his features she thought she discerned the beginnings of a smile. “Okay, you can call me Charlie. How's that?”

“That's fine, Charlie. I guess you work for Mr. Jackson. Do you use your real names with each other?”

He didn't answer as he led her toward the exit. “You want me to carry the little girl? That thing looks heavy.”

“I've got it okay.” She winced as another stab of pain shot through her injured arm.

“You sure?” he asked. He eyed her bandaged jaw. “You look like you've been in a fight.”

She nodded. “I'm okay.”

The pair exited the train station, moved past the line of people waiting in the cab stand, and Charlie opened the door of a stretch limo for LuAnn. She gawked for a minute at the luxurious vehicle before climbing in.

Charlie sat across from her. LuAnn couldn't help staring at the vehicle's interior.

“We'll be at the hotel in about twenty minutes. You want something to eat or drink in the meantime? Train food sucks,” said Charlie.

“I've had a lot worse, although I am kinda hungry. But I don't want you to have to make a special stop.”

He looked at her curiously. “We don't have to stop.” He reached into the refrigerator and pulled out soda, beer, and some sandwiches and snack foods. He unlocked a section of the limo's interior paneling and a table materialized. As LuAnn watched in astonishment, Charlie laid the food and drink out and completed the repast with a plate, silverware, and napkin, his big hands working quickly and methodically.

“I knew you were bringing the baby, so I had the limo stocked with milk, bottles, and stuff like that. At the hotel they'll have everything you need.”

LuAnn made up a bottle for Lisa, cradled her against one arm, and fed her with one hand while she devoured a sandwich with the other.

Charlie watched the tender way she handled her daughter. “She's cute, what's her name?”

“Lisa, Lisa Marie. You know, after Elvis's daughter.”

“You look a little young to be a fan of the King.”

“I wasn't—I mean, I don't really listen to that kind of music. But my momma did. She was a big fan. I did it for her.”

“She appreciated it, I guess.”

“I don't know, I hope she does. She died before Lisa was born.”

“Oh, sorry.” Charlie fell silent for a moment. “Well, what kind of music do you like?”

“Classical. I really don't know nothing about that kinda music. I just like the way it sounds. The way it makes me feel, sorta clean and graceful, like swimming in a lake somewhere up in the mountains, where you can see all the way to the bottom.”

Charlie grinned. “I never thought about it that way. Jazz is my thing. I actually play a little horn myself. Outside of New Orleans, New York has some of the best jazz clubs around. Play until the sun comes up, too. A couple of them not too far from the hotel.”

“Which hotel are we going to?” she asked.

“Waldorf-Astoria. The Towers. You ever been to New York City?” Charlie took a swig of club soda and sat back against the seat, unbuttoning the front of his suit coat.

LuAnn shook her head and swallowed a bite of sandwich. “I ain't never really been anywhere.”

Charlie chuckled softly. “Well then, the Big Apple is a helluva place to start.”

“What's the hotel like?”

“It's real nice. First-rate, especially the Towers. Now it's not the Plaza, but then what is? Maybe you'll be staying at the Plaza one day, who knows.” He laughed and wiped his mouth with a napkin. She noticed that his fingers were abnormally large and thick, the knuckles massive and knobby.

LuAnn looked at him nervously as she finished her sandwich and took a sip of Coke. “Do you know why I'm here?”

Charlie settled a keen gaze upon her. “Let's just say I know enough not to ask too many questions. Let's leave it at that.” He smiled curtly.

“Have you ever met Mr. Jackson?”

Charlie's features grew grim. “Let's just leave it alone, okay?”

“Okay, just curious, is all.”

“Well, you know what curiosity did to that old cat.” The dark eyes glittered briefly at LuAnn as the words rolled off his tongue. “Just stay cool, do what you're told, and you and your kid have no problems, ever again. Sound good to you?”

“Sounds good to me,” LuAnn said meekly, cradling Lisa closer to her hip.

Right before they climbed out of the limo, Charlie pulled out a black leather trench coat and matching wide-brimmed hat and asked LuAnn to put them on. “For obvious reasons, we don't want you to be observed right now. You can ditch the cowboy hat.”

LuAnn put on the coat and hat, cinching the belt up tight.

“I'll check you in. Your suite is under the name of Linda Freeman, an American business executive with a London-based firm traveling with her daughter on a combination of business and pleasure.”

“A business executive? I hope nobody asks me no questions.”

“Don't worry, nobody will.”

“So that's who I'm supposed to be? Linda Freeman?”

“At least until the big event. Then you can go back to being LuAnn Tyler.”

Do I have to? LuAnn wondered to herself.

The suite Charlie escorted her to after he checked her in was on the thirty-second floor and was mammoth in size. It had a large sitting room and a separate bedroom. LuAnn looked around in wonderment at the elegant furnishings, and almost fell over when she saw the opulent bathroom.

“You get to wear these robes?” She fingered the soft cotton.

“You can have it if you want. For seventy-five bucks or so a pop that is,” Charlie replied.

She walked over to the window and partially drew back the curtains. A goodly slice of the New York City skyline confronted her. The sky was overcast and it was already growing dark. “I ain't never seen so many buildings in all my life. How in the world do people tell 'em apart? They all look the same to me.” She looked back at him.

Charlie shook his head. “You know, you're real funny. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were the biggest hick in the world.”

LuAnn looked down. “I am the biggest hick in the world. At least the biggest one you'll probably ever see.”

He caught her look. “Hey, I didn't mean anything by it. You grow up here, you get an attitude about things, you know what I mean?” He paused for a minute while he watched LuAnn go over and stroke Lisa's face. “Look, here's the refreshment bar,” he finally said. He showed her how it worked. Next, he opened the thick closet door. “Over here is the safe.” He indicated the heavy metal door inserted into the wall. He punched in a code and the cylinders whirled into place. “It's a real good idea to keep your valuables in there.”

“I don't think I have anything worth putting in there.”

“How about that lottery ticket?”

LuAnn gulped, dug into her pocket, and produced the lottery ticket. “So you know that much, huh?”

Charlie didn't answer her. He took the ticket, barely glancing at it, before thrusting it in the safe. “Pick a combo—nothing obvious like birthdays or stuff like that. But choose something you'll remember off the top of your head. You don't want to be writing the numbers down anywhere. Got that?” He opened the safe again.

LuAnn nodded, and input her own code and waited until the safe was in the lock mode before shutting the closet door.

Charlie headed to the door. “I'll be back tomorrow morning about nine. In the meantime, you get hungry or anything, just order up room service. Don't let the waiter get a good look at your face, though. Put your hair up in a bun or wear the shower cap, like you're about to jump in the tub. Open the door, sign the bill as Linda Freeman, and then go into the bedroom. Leave some tip money on the table. Here.” Charlie took a wad of bills from his pocket and handed them to her. “Generally, keep a low profile. Don't go walking around the hotel or stuff like that.”

“Don't worry, I know I don't sound like no executive person.” LuAnn pulled her hair out of her eyes and tried to sound flippant, although her low self-esteem was as plain as the hurt tones in Charlie's response.

“That's not it, LuAnn. I didn't mean . . .” He finally shrugged. “Look, I barely finished high school. I never went to college and I did okay for myself. So neither one of us could pass as a Harvard grad, so who the hell cares?” He touched her lightly on the shoulder. “Get a good night's sleep. When I come back tomorrow, we can go out and see some of the sights and you can talk your head off, how about that?”

She brightened. “Going out would be nice.”

“It's supposed to be chilly tomorrow, so dress warmly.”

LuAnn suddenly looked down at her wrinkled shirt and jeans. “Uh, these are all the clothes I have. I, uh, I left home kind of quick.” She looked embarrassed.

Charlie said kindly, “That's all right: No luggage, no problem.” He sized her up quickly. “What, you're about five ten, right? Size eight?”

LuAnn nodded and blushed slightly. “Maybe a little bigger on top than that.”

Charlie's eyes hovered over her chest area for a moment. “Right,” he said. “I'll bring some clothes with me tomorrow. I'll get some things for Lisa, too. I'll need a little extra time though. I'll be here around noon.”

“I can take Lisa with us, right?”

“Absolutely, the kid comes with us.”

“Thanks, Charlie. I really appreciate it. I wouldn't have the nerve to go out on my own. But I'm kind of itching to, if you know what I mean. I never seen a place this big in my whole life. I betcha there's probably more people in this one hotel than in my whole hometown.”

Charlie laughed. “Yeah, I guess being from here, I kind of take it for granted. But I see what you mean. I see it exactly.”

After he left, LuAnn gently lifted Lisa out of her carrier and laid her in the middle of the king-size bed, stroking her hair as she did so. She quickly undressed her, gave her a bath in the oversize tub, and dressed Lisa in her pajamas. After laying the little girl back down on the bed, covering her with a blanket, and propping big pillows on either side of her so she wouldn't roll off, LuAnn debated whether to venture into the bathroom and perhaps give the tub a try as well to work the pains out of her body. That's when the phone rang. She hesitated for an instant, feeling guilty and trapped at the same time. She picked it up. “Hello?”

“Miss Freeman?”

“Sorry, you've—” LuAnn mentally kicked herself. “Yes, this is Miss Freeman,” she said quickly, trying to sound as professional as possible.

“A little faster next time, LuAnn,” Jackson said. “People rarely forget their own names. How are things? Are you being taken care of?”

“Sure am. Charlie's wonderful.”

“Charlie? Yes, of course. You have the lottery ticket?”

“It's in the safe.”

“Good idea. Do you have pen and paper?”

LuAnn looked around the room and then pulled a sheet of paper and a pen from the drawer of the antique-looking desk against the window.

Jackson continued: “Jot down what you can. Charlie will have all the details as well. You'll be happy to know that everything is in place. At six P.M. the day after tomorrow, the winning ticket will be announced nationwide. You can watch it on TV from your hotel room; all the major networks will be carrying it. I'm afraid there won't be much drama in the proceedings for you, however.” LuAnn could almost envision the tight little smile on his lips as he said this. “Then the entire country will eagerly wait for the winner to come forward. You won't do it immediately. We have to give you time, in theory of course, to calm down, start thinking clearly, perhaps get some advice from financial people, lawyers, et cetera, and then you make your joyous way up to New York. Winners aren't required to come to New York, of course. The press conference can be held anywhere, even in the winner's hometown. However, many past winners have voluntarily made the trek and the Lottery Commission likes it that way. It's far easier to hold a national press conference from here. Thus, all your activities will take a day or two. Officially, you have thirty days to claim the money, so there's no problem there. By the way, in case you haven't figured it out, that's why I wanted you to wait before coming. It would not look good if people were aware you arrived in New York before the winning number was announced. You'll have to remain incognito until we're ready to present you as the winner.” He sounded upset that his plans had been altered.

LuAnn scribbled down notes as fast as she could. “I'm sorry, but I really couldn't wait, Mr. Jackson,” LuAnn said hurriedly. “I told you what it would be like back home. It's such a small place and everything. People would know I'd got the winning ticket, they just would.”

“All right, fine, there's no sense wasting time discussing it now,” he said brusquely. “The point is we have to keep you under cover until a day or so after the lottery drawing. You took the bus to Atlanta, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you took suitable precautions to disguise your appearance?”

“Big hat and glasses. I didn't see anybody I knew.”

“And you of course didn't use your real name when buying your ticket?”

“Of course not,” LuAnn lied.

“Good. I think your tracks have been effectively erased.”

“I hope so.”

“It won't matter, LuAnn. It really won't. In a few days, you'll be much farther away than New York.”

“Where exactly will I be?”

“As I said before, you tell me. Europe? Asia? South America? Just name it and I'll make all the arrangements.”

LuAnn thought for a moment. “Do I have to decide now?”

“Of course not. But if you want to leave immediately after the press conference, the sooner you let me know the better. I've been known to work miracles with travel arrangements, but I'm not a magician, particularly since you don't have a passport or any other identification documents.” He sounded incredulous as he said this. “Those will have to be prepared as well.”

“Can you get them made up? Even like a Social Security card?”

“You don't have a Social Security number? That's impossible.”

“It ain't if your parents never filled out the paperwork for one,” she fired back.

“I thought the hospital wouldn't let a baby leave without that paperwork having been completed.”

LuAnn almost laughed. “I wasn't born in no hospital, Mr. Jackson. They say the first sight I saw was the dirty laundry stacked in my momma's bedroom because that's right where my grandma delivered me.”

“Yes, I suppose I can get you a Social Security number,” he said huffily.

“Then could you have them put another name on the passport, I mean with my picture on it, but with a different name? And on all the other paperwork too?”

Jackson said slowly, “Why would you want that, LuAnn?”

“Well, because of Duane. I know he looks stupid and all, but when he finds out I won all this money, he's gonna do everything he can to find me. I thought it'd be best if I disappeared. Start over again. Fresh, so to speak. New name and everything.”

Jackson laughed out loud. “You honestly think Duane Harvey will be able to track you down? I seriously doubt if he could find his way out of Rikersville County if he had a police escort.”

“Please, Mr. Jackson, if you could do it that way, I'd really appreciate it. Of course, if it's too hard for you, I'll understand.” LuAnn held her breath desperately, hoping that Jackson's ego would take the bait.

“It's not,” Jackson snapped. “It's quite simple, in fact, when you have the right connections, as I do. Well, I suppose you haven't thought of the name you want to use, have you?”

She surprised him by rattling one off immediately, as well as the place where the fictitious person was from.

“It seems you've been thinking about doing this for a while. Perhaps with or without the lottery money. True?”

“You got secrets, Mr. Jackson. Why not me, too?”

She heard him sigh. “Very well, LuAnn, your request is certainly unprecedented, but I'll take care of it. I still need to know where you want to go.”

“I understand. I'll think real hard about it and let you know real soon.”

“Why am I suddenly worried that I will regret having selected you for this little adventure?” There was a hint of something in his tone that caused LuAnn to shudder. “I'll be in touch after the lottery drawing, to let you know the rest of the details. That's all for now. Enjoy your visit to New York. If you need anything just tell . . .”

“Charlie.”

“Charlie, right.” Jackson hung up.

LuAnn went immediately to the wet bar and uncapped a bottle of beer. Lisa started to make noise and LuAnn let her down on the floor. LuAnn watched with a big smile on her face as Lisa moved around the room. Just in the last few days, her little girl had started to really get the hang of crawling and now she was exploring the large dimensions of the suite with considerable energy. Finally, LuAnn got down on the floor and joined her. Mother and daughter made the circuit of the hotel room for about an hour until Lisa grew tired and LuAnn put her down for the night.

LuAnn went into the bathroom and started running water in the tub while she checked the cut on her jaw in the mirror. It was healing okay, but it would probably leave a scar. That didn't bother her; it could have been a lot worse. She got another beer from the refrigerator and walked back into the bathroom. She slid into the hot water and took a sip of the cold beer. She figured she would need plenty of both alcohol and steamy, soothing water to get through the next couple of days.

Promptly at twelve o'clock, Charlie arrived with several bags from Bloomingdale's and Baby Gap. During the next hour, LuAnn tried on several outfits that made her tingle all over.

“You certainly do those clothes justice. More than justice,” Charlie said admiringly.

“Thank you. Thanks for all this stuff. You got the size just right.”

“Hell, you got the height and figure of a model. They make these clothes for people like you. You ever think about doing that for a living? Modeling, that is?”

LuAnn shrugged as she put on a cream-colored jacket over a long, pleated black skirt. “Sometimes, when I was younger.”

“Younger? My God, you can't be far out of your teens.”

“I'm twenty, but you feel older after having a baby.”

“I guess that's true.”

“No, I ain't cut out for modeling.”

“Why not?”

She looked at him and said simply, “I don't like getting my picture taken, and I don't like looking at myself.”

Charlie just shook his head. “You are definitely one strange young woman. Most girls your age, with your looks, you couldn't drag them away from the mirror. Narcissus personified. Oh, but you need to wear those big sunglasses and keep the hat on; Jackson said to keep you under wraps. We probably shouldn't be going out, but in a city of seven million I don't think we're going to have a problem.” He held up a cigarette. “You mind?”

She smiled. “Are you kidding? I work in a truck diner. They don't even let you in unless you got your smokes and plan to use 'em. Most nights the place looks like it's on fire.”

“Well, no more truck diners for you.”

“I guess not.” She pinned a wide-brimmed, floppy hat to her hair. “How do I look?” She posed for him.

“Better than anything in Cosmo, that's for sure.”

“You ain't seen nothing yet. You just wait till I dress my little girl,” she said proudly. “Now that is something I dream about. A lot!”

An hour later, LuAnn put Lisa, who was decked out in the latest Baby Gap fashions, in her baby carrier and hefted it. She turned to Charlie. “You ready?”

“Not just yet.” He opened the door to the suite and then looked back at her. “Why don't you close your eyes. We might as well do the whole production.” LuAnn looked strangely at him. “Go on, just do it,” he said, grinning.

She obeyed. A few seconds later he said, “Okay, open them up.” When she did, she was staring at a brand new and very expensive baby carriage. “Oh, Charlie.”

“You keep lugging that thing around much longer,” he said, pointing at the baby carrier, “your hands are going to scrape the ground.”

LuAnn gave him a big hug, loaded Lisa in, and they were off.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Shirley Watson was madder than hell. In seeking appropriate revenge for her humiliation at the hands of LuAnn Tyler, Shirley had taxed her ingenuity, to the extent she had any, to the maximum. She parked her pickup in an out-of-the-way spot about a quarter of a mile from the trailer and got out, a metal canister held tightly in her right hand. She looked at her watch as she made her way toward the trailer, where she was pretty certain LuAnn would be deeply sleeping after working at the diner all night. Where Duane was she didn't really care. If he was there, then she might get a piece of him too for not defending her against the Amazon-like LuAnn.

With each step, the short, squat Shirley grew even angrier. She had gone to school with LuAnn, and had also dropped out before graduating. Also like LuAnn, she had lived in Rikersville all her life. Unlike LuAnn, however, she had no desire to leave it. Which made what LuAnn had done to her even more awful. People had seen her sneaking home, completely naked. She had never been more humiliated. She had gotten more crap than she knew how to deal with. She was going to have to live with that the rest of her life. Stories would be told again and again until she would be the laughingstock of her hometown. The abuse would continue until she was dead and buried; maybe even then it wouldn't stop. LuAnn Tyler was going to pay for that. So she was screwing around with Duane, so what? Everybody knew Duane had no intention of marrying LuAnn. And everyone also knew that LuAnn would probably kill herself before she would ever walk down the aisle with that man. LuAnn stayed because she had nowhere else to go, or lacked the courage to make a change, Shirley knew that—at least she believed she did—for a fact. Everyone thought LuAnn was so beautiful, so capable. Shirley fumed and grew even more flushed in the face despite the cool breeze flickering across the road. Well, she was going to love to hear what people had to say about LuAnn's looks after she got done with her.

When she drew close to the trailer, Shirley bent low and made her way from tree to tree. The big convertible was still parked in front of the trailer. Shirley could see the tire marks in the hardened mud where something had spun out. She passed the car, taking a moment to peer inside before continuing her stealthy approach. What if somebody else was there? She suddenly smiled to herself. Maybe LuAnn was getting some on the side while Duane was away. Then she could pay LuAnn back even steven. She smiled even more broadly as she envisioned a naked LuAnn running screaming from the trailer. Suddenly, everything became very quiet, very still. As if on cue, even the breeze stopped. Shirley's smile disappeared and she looked around nervously. She gripped the canister even more firmly and reached in her jacket pocket and pulled out the hunting knife. If she missed with the battery acid she was carrying in the canister, then she most assuredly wouldn't miss with the knife. She had been cleaning game and fish most of her life and could wield a blade with the best of them. LuAnn's face would get the benefit of that expertise, at least in the areas the acid missed.

“Damn,” she said as she moved up to the front steps and the smell hit her right in the face. She looked around again. She hadn't experienced such an odor even when working a brief stint at the local landfill. She slipped the knife back in her pocket, unscrewed the top to the canister, and then took a moment to cover her nose with a handkerchief. She had come too far to turn back now, smell or not. She silently moved into the trailer, and made her way down to the bedroom. Edging open the door, she looked in. Empty. She closed the door softly and turned to head down the other way. Maybe LuAnn and her beau were asleep on the couch there. The hallway was dark and she felt her way along the wall. As she drew closer, Shirley steeled herself to strike. She lurched forward and, instead, stumbled over something and fell to the floor, coming face-to-face with the decaying source of the stench. Her scream could be heard almost to the main road.

“You sure didn't buy much, LuAnn.” Charlie surveyed the few bags on the chaise lounge in her hotel room.

LuAnn came out of the bathroom where she had changed into a pair of jeans and a white sweater, her hair done up in a French braid. “I just like looking. That was fun enough. Besides, I flat out can't believe the prices up here. Good God!”

“But I would've paid for it,” Charlie protested. “I told you that a hundred times.”

“I don't want you spending money on me, Charlie.”

Charlie sat down in a chair and stared at her. “LuAnn, it's not my money. I told you that, too. I'm on an expense account. Whatever you wanted, you could have.”

“Is that what Mr. Jackson said?”

“Something like that. Let's just call it an advance on your future winnings.” He grinned.

LuAnn sat down on the bed and played with her hands, a deep frown on her face. Lisa was still in her baby carriage playing with some toys Charlie had bought her. Her happy sounds filled the room.

“Here.” Charlie handed LuAnn a package of photos from their day in New York. “For the memory book.”

LuAnn looked at the photos and her eyes crinkled. “I never thought I'd see a horse and buggy in this city. It was lots of fun riding around that big old park. Smack dab in the middle of all them buildings, too.”

“Come on, you'd never heard of Central Park?”

“Sure I had. Heard, leastways. Only I just thought it was all made up.” LuAnn handed him a double photo of herself that she picked out of the pack.

“Whoops, thanks for reminding me,” said Charlie.

“That's for my passport?”

He nodded as he slipped the photo into his jacket pocket.

“Don't Lisa need one?”

He shook his head. “She's not old enough. She can travel under yours.”

“Oh.”

“So I understand you want to change your name.”

LuAnn put the photos away and started fiddling with the packages. “I thought it'd be a good idea. A fresh start.”

“That's what Jackson said you said. I guess if that's what you want.”

LuAnn suddenly plopped down on the chaise lounge and put her head in her hands.

Charlie looked keenly at her. “Come on, LuAnn, changing your name isn't that traumatic. What's bothering you?”

She finally looked up. “Are you sure I'm gonna win the lottery tomorrow?”

He spoke carefully. “Let's just wait until tomorrow, LuAnn, but I don't think you'll be disappointed.”

“All that money, but I don't feel good about it, Charlie, not one bit.”

He lit a cigarette and puffed on it as he continued to watch her. “I'm gonna order up some room service. Three courses, a bottle of wine. Some hot coffee, the works. You'll feel better after you've eaten.” He opened up the hotel services book and began to peruse the menu.

“Have you done this before? I mean, looked after people that . . . Mr. Jackson has met with?”

Charlie looked up from the menu. “I've worked with him for a while, yeah. I've never met him in person. We communicate solely over the phone. He's a smart guy. A little anal for my tastes, a bit paranoid, but real sharp. He pays me well, real well. And baby-sitting people in fancy hotels and ordering room service isn't such a bad life.” He added with a big smile, “I've never looked after anybody I had this much fun with, though.”

She knelt down beside the baby carriage and pulled out a gift-wrapped package from the storage bin underneath. She handed it to him.

Charlie's mouth gaped in surprise. “What's this?”

“I got you a present. Actually, it's from me and Lisa. I was looking for something for you and she started pointing and squealing at it.”

“When did you do this?”

“Remember, while you were over looking at the men's clothing.”

“LuAnn, you didn't have to—”

“I know that,” she said quickly. “That's why it's called a gift, you're not supposed to have to.” Charlie gripped the box tightly in his hands, his eyes riveted on her. “Well, go ahead and open it for gosh sakes,” she said.

While Charlie carefully pulled off the wrapping paper, LuAnn heard Lisa stir. She went over and picked up the little girl. They both watched Charlie as he took off the box top.

“Damn!” He gently lifted out the dark green fedora. It had an inch-wide leather band on the outside and a ribbon of cream-colored silk lining the inside.

“I saw you trying it on at the store. I thought you looked real nice in it, real sharp. But then you put it back. I could tell you didn't want to.”

“LuAnn, this thing cost a lot of money.”

She waved him off. “I had some saved up. I hope you like it.”

“I love it, thank you.” He gave her a hug and then took one of Lisa's dimpled fists in his. He gave it a gentle, formal shake. “And thank you, little lady. Excellent taste.”

“Well, try it on again. Make sure you still like it.”

He slid it over his head and checked himself out in the mirror.

“Slick, Charlie, real slick.”

He smiled. “Not bad, not bad.” He fussed with it a little until he caught the proper angle. Then he took it off and sat back down. “I've never gotten a gift from the people I've looked after. I'm usually only with them for a couple of days anyway, then Jackson takes over.”

LuAnn quickly picked up on the opening. “So how'd you come to be doing this kind of work?”

“I take it you'd like to hear my life story?”

“Sure. I've been bending your ear enough.”

Charlie settled back in the chair and assumed a comfortable look. He pointed to his face. “Bet you didn't guess I used to ply my skills in the boxing ring.” He grinned. “Mostly, I was a sparring partner—a punching bag for up-and-comers. I was smart enough to get out while I still had my brains, at least some of them. After that, I took up semipro football. Let me tell you, that isn't any easier on the body, but at least you get to wear helmets and pads. I'd always been athletic, though, and to tell you the truth I liked making my living that way.”

“You look like you're in real good shape.”

Charlie slapped his hard stomach. “Not bad for being almost fifty-four. Anyway, after football, I coached a little, got married, floated around here and there, never finding anything that fit, you know?”

LuAnn said, “I know that feeling real good.”

“Then my career path took a big turn.” He paused to crush out his cigarette and immediately lit another.

LuAnn took the opportunity to put Lisa back in the baby carriage. “What'd you do?”

“I spent some time as a guest of the U.S. government.” LuAnn looked at him curiously, not getting his meaning. “I was in a federal prison, LuAnn.”

She looked astonished. “You don't look the type, Charlie.”

He laughed. “I don't know about that. Besides, there are lots of different types doing time, LuAnn, let me tell you.”

“So what'd you do?”

“Income tax evasion. Or fraud I guess they'd call it, at least the prosecutor did. And he was right. I guess I just got tired of paying it. Never seemed like there was enough to live on, let alone giving a chunk to the government.” He brushed his hair back. “That little mistake cost me three years and my marriage.”

“I'm sorry, Charlie.”

He shrugged. “Probably the best thing that ever happened to me, really. I was in a minimum security facility with a bunch of other white collar criminal types so I didn't have to worry every minute about somebody cutting my head off. I took a bunch of classes, started thinking about what I wanted to do with my life. Really only one bad thing happened to me on the inside.” He held up the cigarette. “Never smoked until I got to prison. There, just about everybody did. When I got out I finally quit. For a long time. Took it back up about six months ago. What the hell. Anyway, when I got out, I went to work for my lawyer, sort of as an in-house investigator. He knew I was an honest, reliable sort, despite my little conviction. And I knew a lot of people up and down the socioeconomic scale, if you know what I mean. A lot of contacts. Plus I learned a lot while I was in the slammer. Talk about your education. I had professors in every subject from insurance scams to auto chop shops. That experience helped out a lot when I jumped to the law firm. It was a good gig, I enjoyed the work.”

“So how'd you hook up with Mr. Jackson?”

Now Charlie didn't look so comfortable. “Let's just say he happened to call one day. I had gotten myself in a little bit of trouble. Nothing real serious, but I was still on parole and it could've cost me some serious time inside. He offered to help me out and I accepted that offer.”

“Kind of like I did,” said LuAnn, an edge to her voice. “His offers can be kind of hard to refuse.”

He glanced at her, his eyes suddenly wary. “Yeah,” he said curtly.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and blurted out, “I've never cheated on anything in my whole life, Charlie.”

Charlie dragged on his cigarette and then put it out. “I guess it all depends on how you look at it.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, if you think about it, people who are otherwise good, honest, and hardworking cheat every day of their lives. Some in big ways, most in small ones. People fudge on their taxes, or just don't pay 'em, like me. Or they don't give money back when somebody figures up a bill wrong. Little white lies, folks tell almost automatically on a daily basis, sometimes just to get through the day with their sanity. Then there's the big cheat: Men and women have affairs all the time. That one I know a lot about. I think my ex-wife majored in adultery.”

“I got a little taste of that, too,” LuAnn said quietly.

Charlie stared at her. “One dumb SOB is all I can say. Anyway, it all adds up over a lifetime.”

“But not to no fifty million dollars' worth.”

“Maybe not in dollar terms, no. But I might take one big cheat in a lifetime over a thousand little ones that eat away at you eventually, make you not like yourself too much.”

LuAnn hugged herself and shivered.

He studied her for a moment and then looked once more at the room service menu. “I'm gonna order dinner. Fish okay with you?”

LuAnn nodded absently and stared down at her shoes while Charlie conveyed their dinner order over the phone.

That done, he flipped another cigarette out of the pack and lit up. “Hell, I don't know one single person who would turn down the offer you got. As far as I'm concerned you'd be stupid to.” He paused and fiddled with his lighter. “And from the little I've seen of you, maybe you can redeem yourself, at least in your eyes. Not that you'd need much redeeming.”

She stared up at him. “How can I do that?”

“Use some of the money to help other people,” he said simply. “Maybe treat it like a public trust, or something like that. I'm not saying don't enjoy the money. I think you deserve that.” He added, “I saw some background info on you. You haven't exactly had the easiest life.”

LuAnn shrugged. “I got by.”

Charlie sat down beside her. “That's exactly right, LuAnn, you're a survivor. You'll survive this, too.” He looked at her intently. “You mind me asking a personal question now that I've spilled my guts to you?”

“Depends on the question.”

“Fair enough.” He nodded. “Well, like I said, I looked at some of your background stuff. I was just wondering how you ever hooked up with a guy like Duane Harvey. He has ‘loser’ stamped all over him.”

LuAnn thought of Duane's slender body lying facedown on the dirty carpet, the small groan he had made before plummeting over, as though he were calling to her, pleading for help. But she hadn't answered that call. “Duane's not so bad. He had a bunch of bad breaks.” She stood up and paced. “I was going through a real bad time. My momma had just died. I met Duane while I was thinking of what to do with my life. You either grow up in that county and die there or you get out just as fast as you can. Ain't nobody ever moved into Rikersville County, least not that I ever heard of.” She took a deep breath and continued. “Duane had just moved into this trailer he had found. He had a job then. He treated me nice, we talked some about getting married. He was just different.”

“You wanted to be one of the ones who was born and died there?”

She looked at him, shocked. “Hell, no. We were going to get out. I wanted to and that's what Duane wanted, at least that's what he said.” She stopped pacing and looked over at Charlie. “Then we had Lisa,” she said simply. “That kinda changed things for Duane. I don't think having a kid was part of his plan. But we did and it's the best thing that ever happened to me. But after that, I knew things weren't going to work out between us. I knew I had to leave. I was just trying to figure out how when Mr. Jackson called.”

LuAnn looked out the window at the twinkling lights etched against the darkness. “Jackson said there were some conditions with all this. With the money. I know he's not doing this because he loves me.” She looked over her shoulder at Charlie.

Charlie grunted. “No, you're absolutely right about that.”

“You got any idea what the conditions are?”

Charlie was shaking his head before she finished asking the question. “I do know that you'll have more money than you'll know what to do with.”

“And I can use that money any way I want, right?”

“That's right. It's yours, free and clear. You can clean out Saks Fifth Avenue and Tiffany. Or build a hospital in Harlem. It's up to you.”

LuAnn looked back out the window and her eyes began to shine as the thoughts plowing through her head seemed to dwarf the skyline staring back at her. Right that very instant, everything seemed to click! Even the massive number of buildings in New York City seemed far too small to hold the things she wanted to do with her life. With all that money.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“We should've just stayed at the hotel and watched it from there.” Charlie looked around nervously. “Jackson would kill me if he knew we were here. I have strict orders never to take any of the ‘clients’ here.” “Here” was the headquarters of the United States National Lottery Commission located in a brand new state-of-the-art, needle-thin skyscraper on Park Avenue. The huge auditorium was filled with people. Network news correspondents were scattered throughout, microphones clamped in their fists, as were representatives from magazines, newspapers, and cable TV.

Near the front of the stage, LuAnn cradled Lisa against her chest. She wore the glasses Charlie had bought for her and a baseball cap turned backward under which her long hair was balled up. Her memorable figure was hidden under the full-length trench coat.

“It's okay, Charlie, nobody's gonna remember me under all this stuff.”

He shook his head. “I still don't like it.”

“I had to come see. It just wouldn't be the same sitting in the hotel room watching on TV.”

“Jackson's gonna probably call the hotel right after the drawing,” he grumbled.

“I'll just tell him I fell asleep and didn't hear the phone.”

“Right!” He lowered his voice. “You're gonna win at least fifty million bucks and you fall asleep?”

“Well, if I already know I'm gonna win, what's so exciting about it?” she shot back.

Charlie had no ready answer for that so he clamped his mouth shut and again took up a careful scrutiny of the room and its occupants.

LuAnn looked at the stage where the lottery pinball machine was set up on a table. It was about six feet long and comprised ten large tubes, each one rising above an attached bin of Ping-Pong balls. Each ball had a number painted on it. After the machine was activated, the air would circulate the balls until one made its way through the tiny hatch, popped up into the tube, and was caught and held by a special device inside the tube. Once a ball was thus captured, the bin of balls below that tube would immediately shut down and the next bin would automatically activate. Down the line it would go, the suspense building, until all ten winning numbers were finally revealed.

People were nervously looking at their lottery tickets; many held at least a dozen in their hands. One young man had an open laptop computer in front of him. The screen was filled with hundreds of lottery combinations he had purchased as he reviewed his electronic inventory. LuAnn had no need to look at her ticket; she had memorized the numbers: 0810080521, which represented her and Lisa's birthdays, and the age LuAnn would be on her next birthday. She didn't feel any more guilt as she observed the hopeful looks on the faces surrounding her, the silently mouthed prayers as the time for the drawing drew nearer. She would be able to handle their imminent disappointment. She had made up her mind, set her plan, and that decision had bolstered her spirits incredibly and it was the reason she was standing in the middle of this sea of tense people instead of hiding under the bed back at the Waldorf.

She stirred out of her musings as a man walked onto the stage. The crowd instantly hushed. LuAnn had half-expected to see Jackson striding across the stage, but the man was younger and far better looking. LuAnn wondered for a moment if he was in on it. She and Charlie exchanged tight smiles. A blond woman in a short skirt, black nylons, and spike heels joined the man and stood next to the sophisticated-looking machine, hands clasped behind her back.

The man's announcement was brief and clear as the TV cameras focused on his handsome features. He welcomed everyone to the drawing and then he paused, stared dramatically out at the crowd, and delivered the real news of the evening: The official jackpot, based upon ticket sales up to the very last minute, was a record-setting one hundred million dollars! A collective gasp went up from the crowd at the mention of the gigantic sum. Even LuAnn's mouth dropped open. Charlie looked over at her, shook his head slightly, and a small grin escaped his lips. He playfully elbowed her, leaned close, and whispered into her ear. “Hell, you can clean out Saks and Tiffany and still build that hospital, just with the friggin' interest.”

It was indeed the largest jackpot ever and someone, one incredibly fortunate person, was about to win it, the lottery man declared with a beaming smile and a ton of showmanship. The crowd cheered wildly. The man gestured dramatically to the woman, who hit the power switch on the side of the machine. LuAnn watched as the balls in the first bin started bouncing around. When the balls started attacking the narrow pathway into the tubes, LuAnn felt her heart race and her breathing constrict. Despite the presence of Charlie beside her, the calm, authoritative manner of Mr. Jackson, his correct predicting of the daily lottery, and all the other things she had been through in the last several days, she suddenly felt that her being here was totally crazy. How could Jackson or anyone else control what those gyrating balls would do? It occurred to her that what she was witnessing resembled sperm dive-bombing an egg, something she had seen once on a TV program. What were the chances of correctly picking the one that would break through and impregnate? Her spirits plummeted as she confronted a very distinct set of options: travel back home and somehow explain the deaths of two men in a drug-filled trailer she happened to call home; or seek the hospitality of the nearest homeless shelter here in the city and contemplate what to do with the wrecked state of her life.

She clutched Lisa even more tightly and one of her hands drifted over and clasped Charlie's thick fingers. A ball squirted through the opening and was caught in the first tube. It was the number zero. It was shown on a large screen suspended over the stage. As soon as this occurred, the second bin of balls started popping. In a few seconds, it too had produced a winner: the number eight. In quick succession, six more of the balls popped through into their respective tubes and were caught. The tally now stood as follows: 0-8-1-0-0-8-0-5. LuAnn mouthed the familiar numbers silently. Sweat appeared on her forehead and she felt her legs begin to give way. “Oh my God,” she whispered to herself, “it's really gonna happen.” Jackson had done it; somehow, some way, the uppity, anal little man had done it. She heard many moans and groans next to her as lottery tickets were torn up and thrown to the floor as the numbers stared back at the crowd from the stage. LuAnn watched, completely mesmerized, as the ninth bin of balls started bouncing. The entire process now seemed to be occurring in the slowest of slow motion. Finally, the number two ball kicked out and held in tube number nine. There were no hopeful faces left in the crowd. Except for one.

The last bin fired up and the number one ball quickly fought its way right against the hatch of the last tube and appeared to be ready to shoot through to victory at any moment. LuAnn's grip on Charlie's fingers began to loosen. Then, like a pricked balloon hemorrhaging air, the number one ball suddenly slid back down to the bottom and was replaced near the hatch by a suddenly energetic and determined number four ball. With sharp, jerky motions, it grew closer and closer to the open pathway leading into the number ten and final tube, although it appeared to be repeatedly repelled from the opening. The blood slowly drained from LuAnn's face and for a moment she thought she would end up on the floor. “Oh, shit,” she said out loud, although not even Charlie could hear her over the crowd noise. LuAnn squeezed Charlie's fingers so tightly he almost yelled out in pain.

Charlie's own heart was racing as if in sympathy for LuAnn. He had never known Jackson to fail, but, well, you never knew. What the hell, it couldn't hurt, he thought. He moved his free hand up and quietly felt under his shirt for the thick, silver crucifix he had worn for as long as he could remember. He rubbed it for good luck.

Ever so slowly, even as LuAnn's heart threatened to cease beating, the two balls, as though carefully choreographed, again swapped places with each other in the swirling spray of hot air, even ricocheting off one another at one point. After this momentary collision, the number one ball, mercifully for LuAnn, finally shot through the opening and was caught in the tenth and final tube.

It was all LuAnn could do not to scream out loud from pure relief, rather than from the excitement of having just become one hundred million dollars richer. She and Charlie looked at each other, their eyes wide, both bodies shaking, faces drenched with perspiration, as though they had just finished making love. Charlie inclined his head toward her, his eyebrows arched as if to say “You won, didn't you?”

LuAnn nodded slightly, her head swaying slowly as if to the tunes of a favorite song. Lisa kicked and squirmed as though she sensed her mother's exhilaration.

“Damn,” Charlie said, “I thought I was going to pee in my pants waiting for that last number to drop.” He led LuAnn out of the room and in a couple of minutes they were walking slowly down the street in the direction of the hotel. It was a beautiful, brisk night; the cloudless sky housed a stretch of stars that seemingly had no end. It matched LuAnn's mood precisely. Charlie rubbed at his hand. “God, I thought you were going to snap my fingers off. What was that all about?”

“You don't wanta know,” said LuAnn firmly. She smiled at him, sucked in huge amounts of the sweet, chilly air, and gave Lisa a tender kiss on the cheek. She suddenly elbowed Charlie in the side, a mischievous grin on her face. “Last one to the hotel pays for dinner.” She took off like a blue streak, the trench coat billowing out like a parachute in her wake. Even as she left him in the dust, Charlie could hear her shrieks of joy flowing back to him. He grinned and then bolted after her.

Neither one would have been so happy had they seen the man who had followed them to the lottery drawing and was watching from across the street. Romanello had figured that tailing LuAnn might result in some interesting developments. But even he had to admit that his expectations had so far been exceeded.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“You're certain that's where you want to go, LuAnn?”

LuAnn spoke earnestly into the phone. “Yes sir, Mr. Jackson. I've always wanted to go to Sweden. My momma's people came from there, a long time ago. She always wanted to go there, but never had the chance. So I'd sort of be doing it for her. Is that much trouble?”

“Everything is trouble, LuAnn. It's just a matter of degrees.”

“But you can get it done, can't you? I mean I'd like to go to other places, but I'd really like to start in Sweden.”

Jackson said testily, “If I can arrange for someone like you to win one hundred million dollars, then I can certainly take care of travel plans.”

“I appreciate it. I really do.” LuAnn looked over at Charlie, who was holding Lisa and playing with her.

She smiled at him. “You look real good doing that.”

“What's that?” Jackson asked.

“I'm sorry, I was talking to Charlie.”

“Put him on, we need to arrange for your visit to the lottery office so they can confirm the winning ticket. The sooner that's accomplished, the sooner we can get on with the press conference and then you can be on your way.”

“The conditions you talked about—” LuAnn began.

Jackson interrupted, “I'm not ready to discuss that right now. Put Charlie on, I'm in a hurry.”

LuAnn swapped the phone for Lisa. She watched closely as Charlie spoke in low tones into the phone, his back to her. She saw him nod several times and then he hung up.

“Everything okay?” Her tone was anxious as she held a rambunctious Lisa.

He looked around the room for a moment before his eyes finally met hers. “Sure, everything's A-okay. You have to go over to see the lottery people this afternoon. Enough time has passed.”

“Will you go with me?”

“I'll go over in the cab with you, but I won't go in the building. I'll hang around outside until you come out.”

“What all do I have to do?”

“Just present the winning ticket. They'll validate it and issue you an official receipt. There'll be witnesses there and all. You'll be confirmed every which way from Sunday. They go over the ticket with a high-tech laser to verify it's authentic. They got special fiber threads in the tickets, some of them right under the row of numbers. Kind of like U.S. currency, to prevent counterfeiting. It's impossible to duplicate, especially in a short time frame. They'll call the outlet where you bought the ticket to confirm that lottery number was indeed purchased at that site. They'll ask for background info on you. Where you're from, kids, parents, that sort of thing. It takes a few hours. You don't have to wait. They'll get in touch when the process is complete. Then they'll release a statement to the press that the winner has come forward, but they won't release your name until the press conference. You know, keep the suspense building. That stuff really sells tickets for the next drawing. You don't have to hang around for that either. The actual press conference will be the next day.”

“Do we come back here?”

“Actually, ‘Linda Freeman’ is checking out today. We'll go to another hotel where you can check in as LuAnn Tyler, one of the richest people in the country. Fresh in town and ready to take on the world.”

“You ever been to one of these press conferences before?”

He nodded. “A few. They can be a little crazy. Especially when the winners bring family with them. Money can do strange things to people. But it doesn't last too long. You get asked a bunch of questions and then off you go.” He paused and then added, “That's nice what you're doing, going to Sweden for your mom like that.”

LuAnn looked down as she played with Lisa's feet. “I hope so. It's sure gonna be different.”

“Well, sounds like you can use a little different.”

“I don't know how long I'll stay.”

“Stay as long as you want. Hell, you can stay forever if you want to.”

“I'm not sure I can do that. I don't think I'd fit in.”

He gripped her shoulders and looked her in the face. “Listen, LuAnn, give yourself some credit. Okay, so you don't have a bunch of fancy degrees, but you're sharp, you take great care of your kid, and you got a good heart. In my book, that puts you ahead of about ninety-nine percent of the population.”

“I don't know how good I'd be doing right now if you weren't here helping me out.”

He shrugged. “Hey, like I said, it's part of the job.” He let go of her shoulders and fished a cigarette out of his pack. “Why don't we have some quick lunch and then you go claim your prize? What do you say, you ready to be filthy rich, lady?”

LuAnn took a deep breath before answering. “I'm ready.”

LuAnn emerged from the Lottery Commission building, walked down the street, and turned a corner, where she met Charlie at a prearranged spot. He had kept Lisa for her while she had gone in.

“She's been watching everything going by. She's a real alert kid,” he said.

“Won't be long before I'm running every which way after her.”

“She was doing her best to get down and crawl off, swear to God.” Charlie smiled and put a very exuberant Lisa back in her carriage. “So how'd it go?”

“They were real friendly. Treated me real special. ‘You want coffee, Ms. Tyler?’ ‘You want a phone to make calls?’ One woman asked me if I wanted to hire her as my personal assistant.” She laughed.

“You better get used to that. You have the receipt?”

“Yep, in my purse.”

“What time's the press conference?”

“Tomorrow at six o'clock, they said.” She eyed him. “What's wrong?”

As they walked, Charlie had glanced surreptitiously over his shoulder a couple of times. He looked over at her. “I don't know. When I was in prison and then doing the PI stuff I developed this kind of built-in radar that tells me when somebody's paying a little too close attention to me. My alarm's going off right now.”

LuAnn started to look around, but he cut her off. “Don't do that. Just keep walking. We're fine. I checked you in at another hotel. It's another block down. Let's get you and Lisa in okay and then I'll snoop around a little. It's probably nothing.”

LuAnn looked at the worry creases around his eyes and concluded his words did not match his feelings. She gripped the baby carriage tighter as they continued down the street.

Twenty yards behind and on the other side of the street, Anthony Romanello debated whether or not he had been spotted. The streets were filled with people at this hour, but something in the sudden rigidity of the people he was tracking had set off his own warning bell. He hunkered in his jacket and dropped back another ten yards, still keeping them well in sight. He kept a constant lookout for the closest taxi in case they decided to snare one. He had the advantage though, in that it would take some time to load the baby carriage and baby in. He would have plenty of opportunity to hail a cab in that time. But they continued on foot until they reached their destination. Romanello waited outside the hotel for a moment, looked up and down the street, and then went in.

“When did you get these?” LuAnn stared at the new set of luggage stacked in a corner of the hotel suite.

Charlie grinned. “You can't go on your big trip without the proper baggage. And this stuff is super-durable. Not that expensive crap that falls apart if you look at it wrong. One bag is already packed with things you'll need for the trip over. Things for Lisa and what-not. I had a lady friend of mine do it. We'll have to do some more shopping today to fill up the other bags, though.”

“My God, I can't believe this, Charlie.” She gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek.

He looked down in embarrassment, his face flushed. “It wasn't such a big deal. Here.” He handed her passport to her. She solemnly looked at the name inside, as though the fact of her reincarnation were just sinking in, which it was. She closed the small blue book. It represented a gateway to another world, a world she would soon, with a little luck, be embracing.

“Fill that sucker up, LuAnn, see the whole damned planet. You and Lisa.” He turned to leave. “I'm going to go check on some things. I'll be back shortly.”

She fingered the passport and looked up at him, her cheeks slightly red. “Why don't you come with us, Charlie?”

He turned slowly back around and stared at her. “What?”

LuAnn looked down at her hands and spoke hurriedly. “I was thinking I got all this money now. And you been real nice to me and Lisa. And I never been anywhere before and all. And, well, I'd like you to come with us—that is, if you want to. I'll understand if you don't.”

“That's a very generous offer, LuAnn,” he said softly. “But you don't really know me. And that's a big commitment to make to someone you don't really know.”

“I know all I need to,” she said stubbornly. “I know you're a good person. I know you been taking care of us. And Lisa took to you like nobody's business. That counts for a durn lot in my book.”

Charlie smiled in the little girl's direction and then looked back at LuAnn. “Why don't we both think on it, LuAnn. Then we'll talk, okay?”

She shrugged and slid several strands of hair out of her face. “I ain't proposing marriage to you, Charlie, if that's what you think.”

“Good thing, since I'm almost old enough to be your grandfather.” He smiled at her.

“But I really like having you with me. I ain't had that many friends, least that I can count on. I know I can count on you. You're my friend, ain't you?”

There was a catch in his throat when Charlie answered. “Yes.” He coughed and assumed a more businesslike tone. “I hear what you're saying, LuAnn. We'll talk about it when I get back. Promise.”

When the door closed behind him, LuAnn got Lisa ready for her nap. While the little girl drifted off to sleep, LuAnn restlessly walked the parameters of the hotel suite. She looked out the window in time to see Charlie exit the building and head down the street. She followed him with her eyes until he was out of sight. She had not seen anyone who appeared to be tracking him, but there were so many people around, she couldn't be sure. She sighed and then frowned. She was out of her element here. She just wanted to see him back safe and sound. She began to think about the press conference, but as she envisioned a bunch of strangers asking her all sorts of questions, her nerves began to jangle too much and she quit thinking about it.

The knock at the door startled her. She stared at the door, unsure what to do.

“Room service,” the voice said. LuAnn went to the door and squinted through the peephole. The young man standing there was indeed dressed in a bellman's uniform.

“I didn't order anything,” she said, trying hard to keep her voice from quaking.

“It's a note and package for you, ma'am.”

LuAnn jerked back. “Who from?”

“I don't know, ma'am. A man in the lobby asked me to give it to you.”

Charlie? LuAnn thought. “Did he ask for me by name?”

“No, he pointed you out when you were walking to the elevator, and just said give it to you. Do you want it, ma'am?” he said patiently. “If not, I'll just put it in your box behind the registration desk.”

LuAnn opened the door slightly. “No, I'll take it.” She stuck out her arm and the bellman put the package in it. She immediately closed the door. The young man stood there for a moment, upset that his errand and patience had not resulted in a tip. However, the man had already rewarded him handsomely for it, so it had worked out okay.

LuAnn tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter. The message was brief and written on hotel stationery.

Dear LuAnn, how's Duane feeling lately? And the other guy, what'd you hit him with anyway? Dead as a doornail. Sure hope the police don't find out you were there. Hope you enjoy the story, a little hometown news. Let's chat. In one hour. Take a cab to the Empire State Building. It's truly a landmark worth seeing. Leave the big guy and the kid at home. XXXOOOs

LuAnn ripped off the brown packing paper and the newspaper fell out. She picked it up and looked at it: It was the Atlanta Journal and Constitution. It had a page marked with a yellow piece of paper. She opened to that page and sat down on the sofa.

In her agitation at seeing the headline, she jumped up. Her eyes fed voraciously on the words, occasionally darting to the accompanying photo. If possible, the trailer looked even dingier captured in grainy black and white; in fact it looked like it had actually collapsed and was merely awaiting the dump truck to cart it and its occupants away for burial. The convertible was also in the photo, its long hood and obscene ornament pointed straight at the trailer like some hunting dog telling its master: There's the kill.

Two men dead, the story said. Drugs involved. As LuAnn read the name Duane Harvey, a teardrop splattered onto the page and blurred some of the text. She sat down and did her best to compose herself. The other man had not yet been identified. LuAnn read quickly, and then she stopped searching when she found her name. The police were looking for her right now; the paper didn't say she had been charged with any crime, although her disappearance had probably only increased the police's suspicions. She flinched when she read that Shirley Watson had discovered the bodies. A canister of battery acid had been found on the floor of the trailer. LuAnn's eyes narrowed. Battery acid. Shirley had come back to avenge herself and had brought that acid to do the job, that was clear. She doubted, though, if the police would care about a crime that had not occurred when they had their hands full with at least two that had.

While she sat staring in shock at the paper, another knock on the door almost made LuAnn jump out of her chair.

“LuAnn?”

She took a deep breath. “Charlie?”

“Who else?”

“Just a minute.” LuAnn jumped up, hastily ripped the news article out of the paper and stuffed it in her pocket. She slid the letter and the rest of the newspaper under the couch.

She unlocked the door and he entered the room and shrugged off his coat. “Stupid idea, like I'm going to be able to spot somebody out on those streets.” He slid a cigarette from its pack and lit up, thoughtfully staring out the window. “Still can't shake the feeling that somebody was tailing us, though.”

“It could've just been somebody looking to rob us, Charlie. You got a lot of that up here, don't you?”

He shook his head. “Crooks have gotten more daring lately, but if that was the case, they would've hit us and run. Grabbed your purse and disappeared. It's not like they were going to pull a gun and stick us up in the middle of a million people. I had the sense whoever it was was tracking us for a while.” He turned to stare at her. “Nothing unusual happened to you on the way up, did it?”

LuAnn shook her head, staring back at him with wide eyes, afraid to speak.

“Nobody followed you up to New York that you know of, did they?”

“I didn't see anybody, Charlie. I swear I didn't.” LuAnn started to shake. “I'm scared.”

He put a big arm around her. “Hey, it's okay. Probably just paranoid Charlie going off on nothing. But sometimes it pays to be paranoid. Look, how about we go do some more shopping? It'll make you feel better.”

LuAnn nervously fingered the newspaper article in her pocket. Her heart seemed to be climbing up her throat, seeking a larger space in which to explode. However, when she looked up at him, her face was calm, bewitching. “You know what I really want to do?”

“What's that? Name it and it's done.”

“I want to get my hair done. And maybe my nails. They both look kinda crappy. And with the press conference going on across the whole country and all, I'd like to look good.”

“Damn, why didn't I think of that? Well, let's just look up the fanciest beauty parlor in the phone book—”

“There's one in the lobby,” LuAnn said hurriedly. “I saw it coming in. They do hair and nails and feet, and facials, stuff like that. It looked real nice. Real nice.”

“Even better then.”

“Could you watch Lisa for me?”

“We can come down and hang out with you.”

“Charlie, I swear. Don't you know nothing?”

“What? What'd I say?”

“Men don't come down to the beauty parlor and watch the goings-on. That's for us females to keep secret. If you knew how much trouble it takes to get us all pretty, it wouldn't be nearly as special. But you got a job to do.”

“What's that?”

“You can ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ when I get back and tell me how beautiful I look.”

Charlie grinned. “I think I can handle that one.”

“I don't know how long I'll be. I might not be able to get in right away. There's a bottle ready in the refrigerator for Lisa for when she gets hungry. She's gonna want to play for a while and then you can put her down for a nap.”

“Take your time, I've got nothing else on the agenda. A beer and cable TV”—he went over and lifted Lisa out of the baby carriage—“and the company of this little lady, and I'm a happy man.”

LuAnn picked up her coat.

Charlie said, “What do you need that for?”

“I need to buy some personal things. There's a drug store across the street.”

“You can just get them in the gift shop in the lobby.”

“If they're anything like the prices at the last hotel, I'll go across the street and save myself some money, thank you very much.”

“LuAnn, you're one of the richest women in the world, you could buy the whole damned hotel if you wanted.”

“Charlie, I've been scraping pennies all my life. I can't change overnight.” She opened the door and glanced back at him, trying her best to hide the rising anxiety she was experiencing. “I'll be back as soon as I can.”

Charlie moved over to the door. “I don't like it. If you go out, I'm supposed to go with you.”

“Charlie, I'm a grown woman. I can take care of myself. Besides, Lisa's going to have to take a nap soon and we can't leave her here by herself, can we?”

“Well, no, but—”

LuAnn slid an arm across his shoulder. “You look after Lisa and I'll be back as soon as I can.” She gave Lisa a kiss on the cheek and Charlie a gentle squeeze on the arm.

After she left, Charlie grabbed a beer from the wet bar and settled into his chair with Lisa on his lap and the TV remote in hand. He suddenly paused and looked over at the doorway, a frown appearing on his features as he did so. Then he turned back and did his best to interest Lisa in channel surfing.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

When LuAnn stepped from the cab she looked up at the towering presence of the Empire State Building. She didn't have long to dwell upon the architecture, though, as she felt the arm slide around hers.

“This way, we can talk.” The voice was smooth, comforting, and it made every hair on her neck stiffen.

She pulled her arm free and looked at him. Very tall and broad shouldered, his face was clean-shaven, the hair thick and dark, matching the eyebrows. The eyes were big and luminous.

“What do you want?” Now that she could actually see the man behind the note, LuAnn's fear quickly receded.

Romanello looked around. “You know, even in New York, we're bound to attract attention if we conduct this conversation out in the open. There's a deli across the street. I suggest we continue our chat there.”

“Why should I?”

He crossed his arms and smiled at her. “You read my note and the news article, obviously, or you wouldn't be here.”

“I read it,” LuAnn said, keeping her voice level.

“Then I think it's clear we have some things to discuss.”

“What the hell do you have to do with it? Were you involved in that drug dealing?”

The smile faded from the man's lips and he stepped back for a moment. “Look—”

“I didn't kill nobody,” she said fiercely.

Romanello looked around nervously. “Do you want everybody here to know our business?”

LuAnn looked around at the passersby and then stalked toward the deli with Romanello right behind.

Inside they found an isolated booth far in the back. Romanello ordered coffee and then looked at LuAnn. “Anything interest you on the menu?” he asked pleasantly.

“Nothing.” She glared back at him.

After the waitress departed, he looked at her. “Since I can understand your not wanting to prolong this discussion, let's get to the heart of it.”

“What's your name?”

He looked startled. “Why?”

“Just make up one, that's what everybody else seems to be doing.”

“What are you talking—” He stopped and considered for a moment. “All right, call me Rainbow.”

“Rainbow, huh, that's a different one. You don't look like no rainbow I've ever seen.”

“See, that's where you're wrong.” His eyes gleamed for an instant. “Rainbows have pots of gold at the end.”

“So?” LuAnn's tone was calm, but her look was wary.

“So, you're my pot of gold, LuAnn. At the end of my rainbow.” He spread apart his hands. She started to get up.

“Sit down!” The words shot out of his mouth. LuAnn stopped in midrise, staring at the man. “Sit down unless you want to spend the rest of your life in prison instead of paradise.” The calm returned to his manner and he politely gestured for her to resume her seat. She did so, slowly, her eyes squarely on his.

“I ain't never been real good at games, Mr. Rainbow, so why don't you say whatever the hell it is you want to say and let's be done with it.”

Romanello waited for a moment as the waitress returned with his coffee. “You sure you don't want some? It's quite chilly outside.”

The chill in LuAnn's eyes compelled him to move on. He waited until the waitress had set the coffee and cream down and asked if they wanted anything else. After she left, he leaned across the table, his eyes bare inches from LuAnn's. “I was at your trailer, LuAnn. I saw the bodies.”

She flinched for an instant. “What were you doing there?”

He sat back. “Just happened by.”

“You're full of crap and you know it.”

“Maybe. The point is, I saw you drive up to the trailer in that car, the same one in the newspaper photo. I saw you pull a wad of cash out of your kid's baby seat at the train station. I saw you make a number of phone calls.”

“So what? I'm not allowed to make phone calls?”

“The trailer had two dead bodies and a shitload of drugs in it, LuAnn. That was your trailer.”

LuAnn's eyes narrowed. Was Rainbow a policeman sent to get her to confess? She fidgeted in her seat. “I don't know what you're talking about. I never seen no bodies. You musta seen somebody else get out of that car. And who says I can't keep my money wherever the hell I want to keep it.” She dug her hand into her pocket and pulled out the newspaper article. “Here, why don't you take this back and go try scaring somebody else.”

Romanello picked up the piece of paper, glanced at it, and put it in his pocket. When his hand returned to view, LuAnn could barely keep from trembling as she saw the torn piece of bloody shirt.

“Recognize this, LuAnn?”

She struggled to maintain her composure. “Looks like a shirt with some stains on it. So what?”

He smiled at her. “You know, I didn't expect you to remain this calm about it. You're a dumb chick from Hooterville. I pictured you dropping to your knees pleading for mercy.”

“Sorry I ain't what you imagined. And if you call me a dumb anything again, I'll knock you flat on your ass.”

His face suddenly became hard and he slid down the zipper of his jacket until the butt of his 9-mm was revealed. “The last thing you want to do, LuAnn, is make me upset,” he said quietly. “When I get upset, I can be very unpleasant. In fact I can be downright violent.”

LuAnn barely glanced at the weapon. “What do you want from me?”

He zipped the jacket back up. “Like I said, you're my pot of gold.”

“I ain't got any money,” she said quickly.

He almost laughed. “Why are you in New York, LuAnn? I bet you've never been out of that godforsaken county before. Why of all places did you take off for the Big Apple?” He cocked his head at her, waiting for an answer.

LuAnn rubbed her hands nervously across the uneven surface of the table. She didn't look at him when she finally spoke. “Okay, maybe I knew what happened in that trailer. But I didn't do nothing wrong. I had to get out, though, because I knew it might look real bad for me. New York seemed as good as anyplace.” She looked up to test his reaction to her explanation. The mirth was still there.

“What are you going to do with all the money, LuAnn?”

She nearly crossed her eyes. “What are you talking about? What money? In the baby seat?”

“I would hope you weren't going to try and stuff one hundred million dollars in a baby seat.” He eyed her chest. “Or, despite its obvious capacity, your bra.” She just stared at him, her mouth open a notch. “Let's see,” he continued, “what's the going price for blackmail these days? Ten percent? Twenty percent? Fifty percent? I mean, even at half, you're still talking millions in your bank account. That'll keep you and the kid in jeans and sneakers for life, right?” He took a sip of his coffee and sat back, idly fingering the edges of his napkin while he watched her.

LuAnn clamped a fist around the fork in front of her. For a moment she thought about attacking him, but that impulse subsided.

“You're crazy, mister, you really are.”

“The press conference is tomorrow, LuAnn.”

“What press conference?”

“You know, that's where you're going to hold that big old check and smile and wave to the disappointed masses.”

“I've gotta go.”

His right hand shot across and gripped her arm. “I don't think you can spend that money from a prison cell.”

“I said I gotta go.” She jerked her hand free and stood up.

“Don't be a fool, LuAnn. I saw you buy the lottery ticket. I was at the lottery drawing. I saw the big smile on your face, the way you ran down the street whooping and hollering. And I was inside the lottery building when you went to get your winning ticket validated. So don't try to bullshit with me. You walk out of here and the first thing I'm going to do is place a call to that Podunk county and that Podunk sheriff and tell them everything I saw. And then I'm going to send them this piece of shirt. You can't believe the high-tech stuff they've got in the lab these days. They'll start piecing it together. And when I tell them you just won the lottery and maybe they should grab you before you disappear, then you can just kiss your new life good-bye. Although I guess you can afford to put your kid up somewhere nice while you rot in jail.”

“I didn't do nothing wrong.”

“No, what you did was stupid, LuAnn. You ran. And when you run, the cops always figure you're guilty. It's how cops think. They'll believe you were in it up to your pretty little ass. Right now, they haven't gotten around to you. But they will. It's up to you to decide whether they start focusing on you ten minutes from now, or ten days from now. If it's ten minutes, you're dead. If it's ten days, I figure your plan is to disappear forever. Because that's what I intend to do. You only pay me once, that I'll guarantee. I couldn't spend all that money even if I tried and neither could you. We all win that way. The other way, you lose, slam-dunk. So what's it gonna be?”

She stood frozen for a moment halfway out of her chair. Slowly, inch by inch, she sat back down.

“Very smart of you, LuAnn.”

“I can't pay you half.”

His face darkened. “Don't be greedy, lady.”

“It's got nothing to do with that. I can pay you, I just don't know how much, but it'll be a lot. Enough for you to do whatever the hell you want to.”

“I don't understand—” he began.

LuAnn interrupted, borrowing phraseology from Jackson. “You don't have to understand nothing. But if I do this I want you to answer one question for me and I want the truth or you can just go and call the cops, I don't care.”

He eyed her cautiously. “What's the question?”

LuAnn leaned across the table, her voice low but intense. “What were you doing in that trailer? You just didn't happen on by, I know that sure as I'm sitting here.”

“Look, what does it matter why I was there?” He threw his arm up in a casual motion.

LuAnn reached out as quickly as a striking rattler and grabbed his wrist. He winced as she squeezed it with a strength he had not anticipated. Big and strong as he was, it would've taken all his might to break that grip. “I said I wanted an answer, and it better be the right one.”

“I earn my living”—he smiled and corrected himself—“I used to earn my living by taking care of little problems for people.”

LuAnn continued to grip the wrist. “What problems? Did this have to do with the drugs Duane was dealing?”

Romanello was already shaking his head. “I didn't know anything about the drugs. Duane was already dead. Maybe he was holding out on his supplier or maybe skimming off the top and the other guy cut him up. Who knows? Who cares?”

“What happened to the other guy?”

“You were the one who hit him, weren't you? Like I said in the note, dead as a doornail.” LuAnn didn't answer. He paused and took a breath. “You can let go of my wrist any time now.”

“You haven't answered my question. And unless you answer it, you can just go call the sheriff, because you ain't getting one red cent from me.”

Romanello hesitated, but then his greed won out over his better judgment. “I went there to kill you,” he said simply.

She slowly let go of his wrist after giving it one more intense ratchet. He took a minute to rub the circulation back in.

“Why?” LuAnn demanded fiercely.

“I don't ask questions. I just do what I'm paid to do.”

“Who told you to kill me?”

He shrugged. “I don't know.” She reached for his wrist again, but this time he was ready for her and jerked it out of danger. “I'm telling you I don't know. My clients don't just drop by and have coffee and chat about who they want me to take out. I got a call, I got half the money up front. Half when the job was done. All through the mail.”

“I'm still alive.”

“That's right. But only because I got called off.”

“By who?”

“By whoever hired me.”

“When did you get the call?”

“I was in your trailer. I saw you get out of the car and take off. I went to my car and got the call then. Around ten-fifteen.”

LuAnn sat back as the truth dawned on her: Jackson. So that's how he took care of those who refused to go along.

When she didn't say anything, Romanello leaned forward. “So now that I've answered all your questions, why don't we discuss the arrangements for our little deal?”

LuAnn stared at him for a full minute before speaking. “If I find out you're lying to me, you won't like it one bit.”

“You know, somebody who kills for a living usually strikes a little more fear into people than what you're showing,” he said, his dark eyes flickering at her. He partially unzipped his jacket again so that the butt of the 9-mm was once more visible. “Don't push it!” His tone was menacing.

LuAnn glanced at the pistol with contempt before settling her eyes back on his. “I growed up surrounded by crazy people, Mr. Rainbow. Rednecks getting drunk and pointing twelve-gauge shotguns in people's faces and then pulling the trigger just for fun, or cutting somebody up so bad their momma wouldn't have knowed them and then betting on how long they'd take to bleed to death. Then there was the black boy who ended up in a lake with his throat slashed and his private parts gone, 'cause somebody thought he was too uppity hanging around a white girl. I'm pretty sure my daddy had something to do with that, not that the police down there gave a damn. So your little gun and your big man bullshit don't mean crap to me. Let's just get this over with and then you can get the hell out of my life.”

The danger in the depths of Romanello's eyes rapidly dissipated. “All right,” he said quietly, zipping his jacket back up.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A half hour later Romanello and LuAnn exited the deli. LuAnn climbed into a cab and headed back to her hotel where, to follow through on her cover story to Charlie, she would spend the next several hours at the beauty salon. Romanello walked down the street in the opposite direction, silently whistling to himself. Today had been a very good day. The arrangements he had made with LuAnn weren't a hundred percent foolproof, but his gut told him she would honor the deal she had made. If the first installment of the money wasn't in his account by close of business two days from now, then he would be on the phone to the police in Rikersville. She would pay, Romanello was sure of that. Why bring all that grief on yourself?

Since he was in a festive mood, he decided to stop and buy a bottle of Chianti on the way to his apartment. His thoughts were already focused on the mansion he would buy in some faraway land to replace it. He had earned good money over the years exterminating human beings, but he had to be careful in how he spent it or where he kept it. The last thing he wanted was the IRS knocking on his door asking to see his W-2s. Now that problem was behind him. Instant, massive wealth allowed one to soar beyond the reach of the Revenue boys, and everyone else. Yes, it had been a great day, Romanello concluded.

Not finding a cab handy, he opted for the subway. It was very crowded and he could barely find standing room in one of the train cars. He rode the subway for a number of stops before pushing through the masses and once again hitting the street. He turned the key in his door, closed and locked it, and walked into the kitchen to drop off the bottle. He was about to take off his jacket and pour himself a glass of Chianti when someone knocked at the door. He squinted through the peephole. The brown uniform of the UPS man filled his line of vision.

“What's up?” he asked through the door.

“Got a delivery for an Anthony Romanello, this address.” The UPS man was busily scanning the package, an eight-by-eleven-inch container that bulged out at the center.

Romanello opened the door.

“You Anthony Romanello?”

He nodded.

“Just sign right here, please.” He handed Romanello a pen attached to what looked to be an electronic clipboard.

“You're not trying to serve me with legal papers, are you?” Romanello grinned as he signed for the package.

“They couldn't pay me enough to do that,” the UPS man replied. “My brother-in-law used to be a process server up in Detroit. After he was shot the second time, he went to work driving a bakery truck. Here you go. Have a good one.”

Romanello closed the door and felt the contents of the package through the thin cardboard. A smile broke across his lips. The second installment on his LuAnn Tyler hit. He had been told of the possibility of being called off. But his employer had assured him that the rest of the money would be forthcoming regardless. The smile froze on his face as it suddenly struck him that the payment should have been mailed to his post office box. Nobody was supposed to know where he lived. Or his real name.

He whirled around at the sound behind him.

Jackson emerged from the shadows of the living room. Dressed as immaculately as when he had interviewed LuAnn, Jackson leaned against the doorway to the kitchen and looked Romanello up and down behind a pair of dark glasses. Jackson's hair was streaked with gray and a neatly trimmed beard covered his chin. His cheeks were large and puffy, the ears red and flattened-looking, both the result of carefully designed latex molds.

“Who the hell are you and how did you get in here?”

In response, Jackson pointed one gloved hand at the package. “Open it.”

“What?” Romanello growled back.

“Count the money and make certain it's all there. Don't worry, you won't hurt my feelings by doing so.”

“Look—”

Jackson slipped off the glasses and his eyes bored into Romanello. “Open it.” The voice was barely above a whisper and spoken in an entirely nonthreatening manner that made Romanello wonder why he was shivering inside. After all, he had murdered six people in premeditated fashion over the span of the last three years. Nobody intimidated him.

He quickly ripped open the package and the contents spilled out. Romanello watched as the cut-up newspaper drifted to the floor.

“Is this supposed to be funny? If it is, I'm not laughing.” He glowered at Jackson.

Jackson shook his head sadly. “As soon as I hung up with you I knew my little slip over the phone would prove to be serious. I made mention of LuAnn Tyler and money, and money, as you well know, makes people do strange things.”

“What exactly are you talking about?”

“Mr. Romanello, you were hired to perform a job for me. Once that task was called off, your participation in my affairs was at an end. Or let me rephrase that: Your participation in my affairs was supposed to be at an end.”

“They were at an end. I didn't kill the lady and all I get from you is cut-up newspaper. I'm the one who should be pissed.”

Jackson ticked the points off with his fingers. “You followed the woman back to New York. You, in fact, have been following her all over the city. You sent her a note. You met with her, and while I wasn't privy to the conversation itself, from the looks of things the subject matter wasn't pleasant.”

“How the hell do you know all that?”

“There isn't much I don't know, Mr. Romanello. There really isn't.” Jackson put the glasses back on.

“Well, you can't prove anything.”

Jackson laughed, a laugh that sent every hair on Romanello's neck skyward and made him reach for his gun, a gun that was no longer there.

Jackson looked at the man's amazed face and shook his head sadly. “Subways are so crowded this time of night. Pickpockets, I understand, can stalk honest people with impunity. There's no telling what else you might find missing.”

“Well, like I said, you can't prove it. And it's not like you can just go to the cops. You hired me to kill someone. That doesn't do a whole lot for your credibility.”

“I have no interest in going to the authorities. You disobeyed my instructions and in doing so jeopardized my plans. I came here to inform you that I was aware of this, to plainly show you that the rest of your money has been forfeited because of your improper actions, and that I have decided upon the appropriate punishment. A punishment that I fully intend to mete out now.”

Romanello drew himself up to his full six feet three inch height, towering over Jackson, and laughed heartily. “Well, if you came here to punish me, I hope you brought somebody else with you to do the punishing.”

“I prefer to handle these matters myself.”

“Well, then this is going to be your last job.” In a flash, Romanello's hand went down to his ankle and he was erect again in a second, the jagged-edge blade in his right hand. He started forward and then stopped as he eyed the device in Jackson's hand.

“The touted advantages of strength and superior size are so often overrated, wouldn't you agree?” said Jackson. The twin darts shot out from the taser gun and hit Romanello dead center in the chest. Jackson continued to squeeze the trigger, sending 120,000 volts of electricity along the thin metal cords that were attached to the darts. Romanello went down as though poleaxed, and he lay there staring up as Jackson stood over him.

“I've held the trigger down for a full minute now, which will incapacitate you for at least fifteen minutes, more than ample for my purposes.”

Romanello watched helplessly as Jackson knelt down beside him and gingerly pulled the two darts free and packed the apparatus back in his pocket. He carefully opened Romanello's shirt. “Quite hairy, Mr. Romanello. A medical examiner will never pick up on the extremely small holes in your chest.” The next item Jackson withdrew from his coat would have left Romanello numb if he hadn't already been. With his tongue feeling as big as a knobby tree root, Romanello thought he had suffered a stroke. His limbs were useless to him; there was no physical sensation at all. He could still see clearly, however, and suddenly wished he had been blinded as well. He watched in horror as Jackson methodically checked the hypodermic needle he held in his hand.

“It's mostly an innocuous saline solution, you know,” Jackson said as though he were addressing a science class. “I say mostly, because what's lurking in here can be quite deadly under certain conditions.” He smiled down at Romanello and paused for a moment as he considered the import of his own words and then continued. “This solution contains prostaglandin, a substance produced naturally in the body. Normal levels are measured in micrograms. I'm about to give you a dose several thousand times that, measured in milligrams in fact. When this dose hits your heart it will cause the coronary arteries to severely constrict, triggering what doctors would technically term a myocardial infarction or coronary occlusion, also known as a heart attack of the most devastating kind. To tell you the truth, I've never combined the effects of electrification caused by the stun gun with this method of inflicting death. It might be interesting to observe the process.” Jackson was betraying no more emotion than if he were about to dissect a frog in biology class. “Since prostaglandin occurs naturally in the body, as I mentioned, it's also naturally metabolized by the body, meaning there will be no suspiciously high traces left for a medical examiner to detect. I'm currently working on a poison to which I will attach an enzyme, encapsulated by a special coating. The protective cover is quickly broken down by the components in the bloodstream; however, the poison will have ample time to do its work before that occurs. Once the protective coating is gone the enzymes will instantly react with the poison compound and break it down, in effect destroying it. They use a similar process to clean up oil slicks. It's absolutely untraceable. I was planning to use it on you tonight; however, the process is not yet perfected and I hate to rush things of that nature. Chemistry, after all, requires patience and precision. Hence, the fallback to the old reliable: prostaglandin.”

Jackson held the needle very close to Romanello's neck, seeking the perfect entry site. “They will find you here, a young, strapping man felled in his prime by natural causes. Another statistic in the ongoing health debate.”

Romanello's eyes almost exploded out of his head as he struggled with every ounce of will to break the grip of inertia the stun gun had caused. The veins stood out on his neck with the effort he was exerting and Jackson quietly thanked him for providing such a convenient place, right before the needle plunged into the jugular vein and its contents poured into his body. Jackson smiled and gently patted Romanello on the head as his pupils shot back and forth like a metronome.

From his bag, Jackson extracted a razor blade. “Now, a sharp-eyed medical examiner might pick up on the hypodermic's entry site, so we will have to address that.” Using the razor, Jackson nicked Romanello's skin at the precise place the needle had gone in. A drop of blood floated to the surface of the skin. Jackson replaced the razor in the bag and pulled out a Band-Aid. He pressed it across the fresh cut and sat back to study his handiwork, smiling as he did so.

“I'm sorry that it's come to this, as your services might have been useful to me in the future.” Jackson picked up one of Romanello's limp hands and made the sign of the cross over the stricken man's chest. “I know that you were raised Roman Catholic, Mr. Romanello,” he said earnestly, “although you obviously have strayed from the teachings of the Church, but I'm afraid a priest to administer last rites is out of the question. I hardly think it matters where you're going anyway, do you? Purgatory is such a silly notion after all.” He picked up Romanello's knife and placed it back in the sheath strapped to his ankle.

Jackson was about to stand up when he noted the edge of the newspaper sticking out from the inside of Romanello's jacket pocket. He nimbly plucked it out. As he read the article detailing the story of the two murders, drugs, LuAnn's disappearance, and the police's search for her, his features became grim. That explained a lot. Romanello was blackmailing her. Or attempting to. Had he discovered this piece of information a day earlier, Jackson's solution would have been simple. He would've executed LuAnn Tyler on the spot. Now he could not do that and he hated that he had lost partial control of the situation. She had already been confirmed as the winning ticket holder. She was scheduled to appear to the world in less than twenty-four hours as the lottery's newest winner. Yes, now her requests made more sense. He folded up the piece of paper and put it in his pocket. Like it or not, he was wedded to LuAnn Tyler, warts and all. It was a challenge, and, if nothing else, he loved a challenge. However, he would take control back. He would tell her exactly what she had to do, and if she didn't follow his instructions precisely, then he would kill her after she won the lottery.

Jackson gathered up the shredded newspaper and remnants of the UPS package. The dark suit he was wearing came off with a tug on certain discreet parts of the garment, and together with the now revealed body moldings that had given Jackson his girth, all of these items were packed in a pizza carrier bag that Jackson pulled from a corner of the living room. Underneath, a much slimmer Jackson was wearing the blue and white shirt proclaiming him to be a Domino's Pizza delivery person. From one of his pockets, he pulled out a piece of thread and, edging it carefully under the putty on his nose, lifted the piece cleanly off and stuck it in the pizza box. The mole, beard, and ear pieces he similarly discarded. He swabbed his face down with alcohol from a bottle pulled from his pocket, removing the shadows and highlights that had aged his face. His hands worked quickly and methodically from years of long practice. Last, he combed a gel through his hair that effectively removed the sprayed-on streaks of gray. He checked his altered appearance in a small mirror hanging on the wall. Then this chameleon landscape was swiftly altered by a small bristly mustache applied with spirit gum, and a hair extender hung in a long ponytail out from under the Yankee baseball cap he was now putting on. Dark glasses covered his eyes; dress shoes were replaced with tennis shoes. He once again checked his appearance: completely different. He had to smile. It was quite a talent. When Jackson quietly left the building a few seconds later, Romanello's features were relaxed, peaceful. They would forever remain so.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Everything will be all right, LuAnn.” Roger Davis, the young, handsome man who had announced the lottery drawing, said these words as he patted her on the hand. “I know you have to be nervous but I'll be right there with you. We'll make it as painless as possible for you, I give you my word,” he said gallantly.

They were in a plush room inside the lottery building, just down the corridor from the large auditorium where a mass of press and regular folk awaited the latest lottery winner's arrival. LuAnn wore a pale blue knee-length dress with matching shoes, her hair and makeup impeccable thanks to the in-house staff at the Lottery Commission. The cut on her jaw had healed enough that she had opted for makeup instead of the bandage.

“You look beautiful, LuAnn,” said Davis. “I can't remember a winner looking so ravishing, I mean that.” He sat down right next to her, his leg touching hers.

LuAnn flashed him a quick smile, slid a couple of inches away, and turned her attention to Lisa. “I don't want Lisa to have to go out there. All them lights and people would just scare her to death.”

“That's fine. She can stay in here. We'll have someone watching her of course, every minute. Security is very tight here as you can imagine.” He paused while he once again took in LuAnn's shapely form. “We'll announce that you have a daughter, though. That's why your story is so great. Young mother and daughter, all this wealth. You must be so happy.” He patted her on the knee and then let his hand linger for a moment before pulling it away. She wondered again whether he was in on all of it. Whether he knew she had won an enormous fortune by cheating. He looked the type, she concluded. The kind who would do anything for money. She imagined he would be very well paid for helping to pull off something this big.

“How long until we go out there?” she asked.

“About ten minutes.” He smiled at her again and then said as casually as possible, “Uh, you weren't exactly clear on your marital status. Will your husband—”

“I'm not married,” LuAnn said quickly.

“Oh, well, will the father of the child be attending?” He added quickly, “We just have to know for scheduling purposes.”

LuAnn looked dead at him. “No, he won't.”

Davis smiled confidently and inched closer. “I see. Hmmm.” He made a steeple with his hands and rested them against his lips for a moment and then he laid one arm casually across the back of her seat. “Well, I don't know what your plans are, but if you need anyone to show you around town I am absolutely here for you, LuAnn, twenty-four hours a day. I know after living all your life in a small town, that the big city”—Davis lifted his other arm dramatically toward the ceiling—“must be very overwhelming. But I know it like the back of my hand. The best restaurants, theaters, shopping. We could have a great time.” He edged still closer, his eyes hugging the contours of her body as his fingers drifted toward her shoulder.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Davis, I think maybe you got the wrong idea. Lisa's father ain't coming for the press conference, but he's coming up after. He had to get leave first.”

“Leave?”

“He's in the Navy. He's with the SEALs.” She shook her head and stared off as if digging up some shocking memories. “Let me tell you, it downright scares me some of the stuff he's told me about. But if there's anybody that can take care of himself it's Frank. Why, he beat six guys unconscious in a bar one time 'cause they were coming on to me. He probably would've killed them if the police hadn't pulled him off, and it took five of them to do it, big, strong cops, too.”

Davis's mouth dropped open and he scooted away from LuAnn. “Good Lord!”

“Oh, but don't say nothing about that at the press conference, Mr. Davis. What Frank does is all top-secret-like and he'd get real pissed at you if you said anything. Real pissed!” She stared intently at him, watching the waves of fear pour over his pretty-boy features.

Davis stood up abruptly. “No, of course not, not one word. I swear.” Davis licked his lips and put a shaky hand through his heavily moussed hair. “I'd better go check on things, LuAnn.” He managed a weak smile and gave her a shaky thumbs-up.

She returned the gesture. “Thanks so much for understanding, Mr. Davis.” After he had gone, LuAnn turned back to Lisa. “You ain't never gonna have to do that, baby doll. And pretty soon, your momma ain't gonna have to do it no more either.” She cradled Lisa against her chest and stared across at the clock on the wall, watching the time tick down.

Charlie glanced around the crowded auditorium while he methodically pushed his way toward the front of the stage. He stopped at a spot where he could see clearly and waited. He would've liked to be up on the stage with LuAnn, giving her what he knew would be much needed moral support. However, that was out of the question. He had to remain in the background; raising suspicion was not part of his job description. He would see LuAnn after the press conference was completed. He also would have to tell her his decision about whether he would accompany her or not. The problem was he hadn't made up his mind yet. He stuffed his hand in his pocket for a cigarette and then remembered smoking wasn't permitted in the building. He really was craving the soothing influences of the tobacco and for a brief instant he contemplated sneaking outside for a quick one, but there wasn't enough time.

He sighed and his broad shoulders collapsed. He had spent the better part of his life roaming from point to point with nothing in the way of a comprehensive plan, nothing resembling long-term goals. He loved kids and would never have any of his own. He was paid well, but while money went a long way toward improving his physical surroundings it didn't really contribute to his genuine overall happiness. At his age, he figured this was as good as it was going to get. The avenues he had taken as a young man had pretty much dictated what the remaining years of his life would be like. Until now. LuAnn Tyler had offered him a way out of that. He held no delusions that she was interested in him sexually, and in the cold face of reality, away from her unpretentious and yet incredibly seductive presence, Charlie had concluded that he did not want that either. What he wanted was her sincere friendship, her goodness—two elements that had been appallingly lacking in his life. And that brought him back to the choice. Should he go or not? If he went, he had little doubt that he would enjoy the hell out of LuAnn and Lisa, with an added plus of being a father figure for the little girl. For a few years anyway. But he had sat up most of the night thinking about what would happen after those first few years.

It was inevitable that beautiful LuAnn, with her new wealth, and the refinement that would come from those riches, would be the target of dozens of the world's most eligible men. She was very young, had one child, and would want more. She would marry one of these men. That man would assume the responsibilities of fathering Lisa, and properly so. He would be the man in LuAnn's life. And where would that leave Charlie? He edged forward, squeezing between two CNN cameramen as he thought about this again. At some point, Charlie figured, he would be compelled to leave them. It would be too awkward. It wasn't like he was family or anything. And when that time came it would be painful, more painful than allowing his body to be used for a punching bag during his youth. After spending only a few days with them, he felt a bond with LuAnn and Lisa that he had not managed to form in over ten years of marriage with his ex-wife. What would it be like after three or four years together? Could he calmly walk away from Lisa and her mother without suffering an irreparably broken heart, a screwed-up psyche? He shook his head. What a tough guy he had turned out to be. He barely knew these simple people from the South and he was now engulfed in a life-churning decision the consequences of which he was extrapolating out years into the future.

A part of him said simply go for the ride and enjoy the hell out of yourself. You could be dead from a heart attack next year, what the hell did it matter? The other part of him, though, he was afraid, was winning the day. He knew that he could be LuAnn's friend for the rest of his life, but he didn't know if he could do it close-up, every day, with the knowledge that it might end abruptly. “Shit,” he muttered. It came down to pure envy, he decided. If he were only twenty—he shrugged—okay, thirty years younger. Envy of the guy who would eventually win her. Win her love, a love that he was sure would last forever, at least on her side. And heaven help the poor man who betrayed her. She was a hellcat, that was easy to see. A firecracker with a heart of gold, but that was a big part of the attraction: Polar opposites like that in the same fragile shell of skin and bones and raw nerve endings was a rare find.

Charlie abruptly stopped his musings and looked up at the stage. The entire crowd seemed to tense all at once, like a biceps flexing and forming a ridge of muscle. Then the cameras started clicking away as LuAnn, tall, queenly, and calm, walked gracefully into their field of vision and stood before them all. Charlie shook his head in silent wonderment. “Damn,” he said under his breath. She had just made his decision that much harder.

Sheriff Roy Waymer nearly spit his mouthful of beer clear across the room as he watched LuAnn Tyler waving back at him from the TV. “Jesus, Joseph, Mary!” He looked over at his wife, Doris, whose eyes were boring into the twenty-seven-inch screen.

“You been looking for her all over the county and there she is right there in New York City,” Doris exclaimed. “The gall of that girl. And she just won all that money.” Doris said this bitterly as she wrung her hands together; twenty-four torn-up lottery tickets resided in the trash can in her back yard.

Waymer wrestled his considerable girth out of his La-Z-Boy and headed toward the telephone. “I phoned up to the train stations around here and at the airport in Atlanta, but I hadn't heard nothing back yet. I didn't take her to be heading up to no New York, though. I didn't put no APB out on LuAnn because I didn't think she'd be able to get out of the county, much less the state. I mean, the girl ain't even got a car. And she had the baby and all. I thought for sure she'd just hightail it over to some friend's house.”

“Well, it sure looks like she slipped right out on you.” Doris pointed at LuAnn on the TV. “Right or wrong there ain't many people that look like that, that's for sure.”

“Well, Mother,” he said to his wife, “we don't exactly have the manpower of the FBI down here. With Freddie out with his back I only got two uniformed officers on duty. And the state police are up to their eyeballs in work; they couldn't spare nobody.” He picked up the phone.

Doris looked at him anxiously. “You think LuAnn killed Duane and that other boy?”

Waymer held the phone up to his ear and shrugged. “LuAnn could kick the crap out of most men I know. She sure as hell could Duane. But that other guy was a hoss, almost three hundred pounds.” He started punching in numbers on the phone. “But she coulda snuck up behind him and smashed that phone over his head. She'd been in a fight. More than one person saw her with a bandage on her chin that day.”

“Drugs was behind it, that's for sure,” Doris said. “That poor little baby in that trailer with all them drugs.”

Waymer was nodding his head. “I know that.”

“I bet'cha LuAnn was the brains behind it all. She's sharp, all right, we all know that. And she was always too good for us. She tried to hide it, but we could all see through that. She didn't belong here, she wanted to get out, but she didn't have no way. Drug money, that was her way, you mark my words, Roy.”

“I hear you, Mother. Except she don't need drug money no more.” He nodded toward the TV.

“You best hurry up then, before she gets away.”

“I'll contact the police up in New York to go pick her up.”

“Think they'll do that?”

“Mother, she's a possible suspect in a double murder investigation,” he said importantly. “Even if she ain't done nothing wrong, she's probably gonna be what they call a material witness.”

“Yeah, but you think those Yankee police up in New York gonna care about that? Huh!”

“Police is police, Doris, North or South. The law's the law.”

Unconvinced of the virtues of her Northern compatriots, Doris snorted and then suddenly looked hopeful. “Well, if she's convicted wouldn't she have to give back the money she won?” Doris looked back at the TV, at LuAnn's smiling face, wondering whether to go out to the trash and try to reconstruct all those lottery tickets. “She sure as heck wouldn't need all that money in prison, would she?”

Sheriff Waymer didn't answer. He was now trying to get through to the NYPD.

LuAnn held the big check, waved, and smiled at the crowds and answered a barrage of questions thrown at her from all sides of the vast room. Her picture was transported across the United States and then across the world.

Had she definitive plans for the money? If so, what were they?

“You'll know,” LuAnn answered. “You'll see, but you'll just have to wait.”

There were a series of predictably stupid questions such as “Do you feel lucky?”

“Incredibly,” she responded. “More than you'll ever know.”

“Will you spend it all in one place?”

“Not likely unless it's a really, really big place.”

“Will you help your family?”

“I'll help all the people I care about.”

Three times her hand was sought in matrimony. She answered each suitor differently and with polite humor but the bottom line was always “No.” Charlie silently fumed at these exchanges; and then, checking his watch, he made his way out of the room.

After more questions, more photos, and more laughter and smiles, the press conference was finally over and LuAnn was escorted off the stage. She returned to the holding room, quickly changed into slacks and a blouse, erased all the makeup from her face, piled her long hair under a cowboy hat, and picked up Lisa. She checked her watch. Barely twenty minutes had passed since she had been introduced to the world as the new lottery winner. She expected that the local sheriff would be contacting the New York police by now. Everyone from LuAnn's hometown watched the lottery drawing religiously including Sheriff Roy Waymer. The timing would be very tight.

Davis leaned his head in the door. “Uh, Ms. Tyler, there's a car waiting for you at the rear entrance to the building. I'll have someone escort you down if you're ready.”

“Ready as I'll ever be.” When he turned to leave, LuAnn called after him. “If anybody shows up asking for me, I'll be at my hotel.”

Davis looked at her coldly. “Are you expecting anyone?”

“Lisa's father, Frank.”

Davis's face tightened. “And you're staying at?”

“The Plaza.”

“Of course.”

“But please don't tell anybody else where I am. I haven't seen Frank in a while. He's been on maneuvers for almost three months. So we don't want to be disturbed.” She arched her eyebrows wickedly and smiled. “You know what I mean?”

Davis managed a very insincere smile and made a mock bow. “You can trust me implicitly, Ms. Tyler. Your chariot awaits.”

Inwardly, LuAnn smiled. Now she was certain that when the police came for her, they would be directed as fast as possible to the Plaza Hotel. That would gain her the precious moments she would need to escape this town, and this country. Her new life was about to begin.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The rear exit was very private and thus very quiet. A black stretch limo confronted LuAnn as she left the building. The chauffeur tipped his cap to her and held open the door. She got in and settled Lisa in the seat next to her.

“Good work, LuAnn. Your performance was flawless,” Jackson said.

LuAnn nearly screamed out as she jerked around and stared into the dark recesses of the limo's far corner. All the interior lights in the rear of the limo were off except for a solitary one directly over her head that suddenly came on, illuminating her. She felt as though she were back on the stage at the lottery building. She could barely make out his shape as he hunkered back into his seat.

His voice drifted out to her. “Really very poised and dignified, a touch of humor when it was called for, the reporters eat that up, you know. And of course the looks to top it all off. Tres marriage proposals during one press conference is certainly a record as far as I'm aware.”

LuAnn composed herself and settled back into her seat as the limo proceeded down the street. “Thank you.”

“Quite frankly I was concerned that you would make a complete fool of yourself. Nothing against you of course. As I said before, you are an intelligent young woman; however, anyone, no matter their sophistication, thrust into a strange situation, is more apt to fail than not, wouldn't you agree?”

“I've had a lot of practice.”

“Excuse me?” Jackson leaned forward slightly but still remained hidden from her view. “Practice with what?”

LuAnn stared toward the darkened corner, her vision blocked by the shining light. “Strange situations.”

“You know, LuAnn, you really do amaze me sometimes, you really do. In some limited instances your perspicacity rivals my own and I don't say that lightly.” He stared at her for several more seconds and then opened a briefcase lying on the seat next to him and pulled out several pieces of paper. As he sat back against the soft leather, a smile played across his features and a sigh of contentment escaped his lips.

“And now, LuAnn, it's time to discuss the conditions.”

LuAnn fumbled with her blouse before crossing her legs. “We need to talk about something first.”

Jackson cocked his head. “Really? And what might that be?”

LuAnn let out a deep breath. She had stayed awake all night deciding how best to tell him about the man calling himself Rainbow. She had first wondered whether Jackson needed to know at all. Then she decided that since it was about the money, that he would probably find out at some point. Better it be from her.

“A man came and talked to me yesterday.”

“A man, you say. What about?”

“He wanted money from me.”

Jackson laughed. “LuAnn, my dear, everybody will want money from you.”

“No, it's not like that. He wanted half of my winnings.”

“Excuse me? That's absurd.”

“No it ain't. He . . . he had some information about me, things that had happened to me, that he said he would tell, if I didn't pay him.”

“My goodness, what sorts of things?”

LuAnn paused and looked out the window. “Can I have something to drink?”

“Help yourself.” A gloved finger came out of the darkness and pointed to the door built into one side of the limo. LuAnn did not look in his direction as she opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a Coke.

She took a long drink, wiped her lips, and continued. “Something happened to me right before I called to tell you I was going to take your offer.”

“Would that possibly be the two dead bodies in your trailer? The drugs there? The fact that the police are looking for you? Or perhaps something else you tried to hide from me?” She didn't answer at first, nervously cradling the soda in her lap, the astonishment clear on her face.

“I didn't have nothing to do with those drugs. And that man was trying to kill me. I was just protecting myself.”

“I should have realized when you wanted to leave town so quickly, change your name, all that, that there was something up.” He shook his head sadly. “My poor, poor LuAnn. I guess I would've left town quickly too, confronted with those circumstances. And who would have thought it of our little Duane. Drugs! How terrible. But I tell you what, out of the goodness of my heart, I won't hold it against you. What's past is past. However”—here Jackson's tone became starkly forceful—“don't ever try to hide anything from me again, LuAnn. Please don't do that to yourself.”

“But this man—”

Jackson spoke impatiently. “That's taken care of. You certainly won't be giving any money to him.”

She stared into the darkness, amazement again spreading across her face. “But how could you have done that?”

“People are always saying that about me: How could I have done that?” Jackson looked amused and said in a slightly hushed voice, “I can do anything, LuAnn, don't you know that by now? Anything. Does that frighten you? If it doesn't, it should. It even frightens me sometimes.”

“The man said he was sent to kill me.”

“Indeed.”

“But then he got called off.”

“How terribly peculiar.”

“Timewise, I figure he got called off right after I called you and said I'd do it.”

“Life is chock full of coincidence, isn't it?” Jackson's tone had become mocking.

Now LuAnn's features took on their own glint of ferocity. “I get bit, I bite back, real hard. Just so we understand each other, Mr. Jackson.”

“I think we understand each other perfectly, LuAnn.” In the darkness, she heard papers rustling. “However, this certainly complicates matters. When you wanted your name changed, I thought we could still do everything aboveboard.”

“What do you mean?”

“Taxes, LuAnn. We do have the issue of taxes.”

“But I thought all that money was mine to keep. The government couldn't touch it. That's what all the ads say.”

“That's not exactly true. In fact the advertising is very misleading. Funny how the government can do that. The principal is not tax-free, it's tax-deferred. But only for the first year.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that for the first year the winner pays no federal or state taxes, but the amount of that tax is simply deferred until the next year. The underlying tax is still owed, it's just the timing that's affected. No penalties or interest will accrue of course, so long as payment is made on a timely basis during the next tax year. The law states that the tax must be paid over ten years in equal installments. On one hundred million dollars, for example, you will owe roughly fifty million dollars in state and federal income tax, or one half the total amount. You're obviously in the highest tax bracket now. Divided by ten years the tax payment comes to five million dollars per year. In addition to that, generally speaking, any money you earn from the principal amount is taxable without any type of tax-deferred status.

“And I must tell you, LuAnn. I have plans for that principal, rather grand plans. You will make a great deal more money in the coming years; however, it will almost all be taxable income, dividends, capital gains, interest from taxable bonds, that sort of thing. That ordinarily would not present a problem, since law-abiding citizens who are not on the run from the police under an assumed name can file their tax returns, pay their fair share of tax, and live quite nicely. You can no longer do that. If my people filed your tax return under the name LuAnn Tyler with your current address and other personal information, don't you think the police might come knocking on your door?”

“Well, can't I pay tax under my new name?”

“Ah, potentially a brilliant solution; however, the IRS tends to get quite curious when the very first tax return filed by someone barely out of her teens has so many zeros on it. They might wonder what you were doing before and why all of a sudden you're richer than a Rockefeller. Again, the result would probably be the police, or even more likely the FBI, knocking on your door. No, that won't really do.”

“So what do we do?”

When Jackson next spoke, the tone that reached LuAnn's ears made her tighten her grip on Lisa.

“You will do exactly as I tell you, LuAnn. You are ticketed on a flight that will take you out of the country. You will never return to the United States. This little mess in Georgia has bestowed upon you a life on the move. Forever, I'm afraid.”

“But—”

“There's no but to it, LuAnn, that is the way it will be. Do you understand?”

LuAnn sat back against the leather seat and said stubbornly, “I got enough money now to where I can handle myself okay. And I don't like people telling me what to do.”

“Is that right?” Jackson's hand closed around the pistol he had lifted from his briefcase. In the darkness he could have swung it up in an instant: mother and child obliterated. “Well, then why don't you take your chances on getting out of the country by yourself. Would you like to do that?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“That's not the point. You made a deal with me, LuAnn. A deal I expect you to honor. Unless you're a fool you will work with me and not against me. You will see that in the long run your and my interests are the same. Otherwise, I can stop the limo right here, toss you and the child out, and I'll phone the police to come and pick you up. It's your choice. Decide. Now!”

Confronted with that option, LuAnn looked desperately around the interior of the limo. Her eyes finally settled on Lisa. Her daughter looked up at her with big, soft eyes; there was complete faith there. LuAnn let out a deep breath. What choice did she really have?

“All right.”

Jackson again rustled the papers he held. “Now, we have just enough time to go over these documents. There are a number of them for you to sign, but let me discuss the principal terms first. I will try to be as simple in my explanation as possible.

“You have just won one hundred million dollars and change. As we speak, that money has been placed into a special escrow account set up by the Lottery Commission under your name. By the way, I have obtained a Social Security number for you, under your new name. It makes life so much easier when you have one of those. Once you execute these papers my people will be able to transfer the funds out of that account and into one over which I will have complete and total control.”

“But how do I get to the money?” LuAnn protested.

“Patience, LuAnn, all will be explained. The money will be invested as I see fit and for my own account. However, from those investment funds you will be guaranteed a minimum return of twenty-five percent per annum, which comes to approximately twenty-five million dollars per year. Those funds will be available to you all during the course of the year. I have accountants and financial advisors who will handle all of that for you, don't worry.” He held up a cautionary finger. “Understand that that is income from principal. The one hundred million is never touched. I will control that principal amount for a period of ten years and invest it however I choose. It will take several months or more to fully implement my plans for the money, so the ten-year period will commence approximately in the late fall of this year. I will provide you with the exact date later. Ten years from that date, you will receive the full one hundred million dollars back. Any of the yearly income you've earned over the ten years is of course yours to keep. We will invest that for you as well, free of charge. I'm sure you're ignorant of this, but at that rate, your money, compounded, less even an exorbitant personal allowance, will double approximately every three years, particularly when you don't pay any taxes. Under practically any reasonable projection, you will be worth hundreds of millions of dollars at the end of the ten-year period, risk-free.” Jackson's eyes sparkled as he rattled off the figures. “It's positively intoxicating, isn't it, LuAnn? It just beats the hell out of a hundred dollars a day, doesn't it? You've come a long way in less than a week, you truly have.” He laughed heartily. “To start you off, I will advance you the sum of five million dollars, interest-free. That should be sufficient to keep you until the investment earnings come rolling in.”

LuAnn swallowed hard at the mention of the gigantic sums. “I don't know nothing about investing, but how can you guarantee me so much money each year?”

Jackson looked disappointed. “The same way I could guarantee that you would win the lottery. If I can perform that magic, I think I can handle Wall Street.”

“What if something should happen to me?”

“The contract you will be signing binds your heirs and assigns.” He nodded at Lisa. “Your daughter. However, that income would go to her and at the end of the ten-year period so would the principal amount. There's also a power of attorney form. I took the liberty of already having filled in the notary panel. I'm a man of many talents.” He chuckled lightly. From out of the darkness, Jackson extended the packet of documents and a pen to her. “They're clearly marked where your signature is required. I trust that you are satisfied with the terms. I told you from the start that they would be generous, didn't I?”

LuAnn hesitated for an instant.

“Is there a problem, LuAnn?” Jackson asked sharply.

She shook her head, quickly signed the documents, and handed them back. Jackson took the documents and slid open a compartment in the console of the limo.

LuAnn heard Jackson make some tapping sounds and a loud screech ensued and then stopped.

Jackson said, “Faxes are wonderful things especially when time is of the essence. Within ten minutes the funds will be wired into my account.” He picked the papers up as they slid out of the machine and placed them back into his briefcase.

“Your bags are in the trunk. I have your plane tickets and hotel reservations with me. I have planned your itinerary out for the first twelve months. It will be a great deal of travel; however, I think the scenery will be pleasant enough. I have honored your request to travel to Sweden, the land of your maternal ancestors. Think of it all as an extremely long vacation. I may have you end up in Monaco. They have no personal income tax. However, out of an abundance of caution I'm putting together and thoroughly documenting an intricate cover story for you. In sum, you left the States as a very young girl. You met and married a wealthy foreign national. The money will all be his, as far as the IRS is concerned. You see? The funds will be kept only in foreign banks and offshore accounts. U.S. banks have stringent reporting requirements to the IRS. None of your money will ever, ever be kept in the United States. However, keep in mind that you will be traveling under a United States passport as a United States citizen. Some accounts of your wealth may well trickle back here. We have to be prepared for that. However, if the money is all your husband's, who is not an American citizen, who does not reside at any time in this country, who earns no income directly in America, or from investments or business endeavors connected to this country, then, generally speaking, the IRS cannot touch you. I won't bore you with the complex tax rules having to do with U.S. source income such as interest on bonds issued by U.S. concerns, dividends paid by U.S. corporations, other transactions and sales of property having some tangible connection to the United States that could trip up the unwary. My people will take care of all that. Believe me when I say it won't be a problem.”

LuAnn reached out for the tickets.

“Not quite yet, LuAnn, we have some steps to take. The police,” he said pointedly.

“I took care of that.”

“Oh, did you now?” His tone was one of amusement. “Well, I would be very surprised if New York's Finest weren't stationing themselves at every airport, bus, and train station right this very minute. Since you're a felon fleeing across state lines, they've probably called the FBI in as well. They're sharp. It's not like they'll be waiting patiently at your hotel for you to show up.” He looked out the window of the limo. “We have some preparations to take care of. It'll give the police additional time to set up their net; however, it's a trade-off we have to make.”

As Jackson was talking, LuAnn felt the limo slow down and then stop. Then she heard a long, slow clanking sound, as though a door were being raised. When it stopped, the limo pulled through and then stopped again.

The limo phone rang and Jackson quickly answered it. He listened for a few moments and then hung up. “Confirmation that the hundred million dollars has been received; though it's after regular banking hours, I'd had special arrangements in place. Omniscience is such a rewarding gift.”

He patted the seat. “Now I need you to sit next to me. First, close your eyes and then give me your hand so I can guide you,” Jackson said, reaching for it out of the darkness.

“Why do I have to close my eyes?”

“Indulge me, LuAnn. I can't resist a little drama in life, particularly since it's so rare. I can assure you that what I'm about to do will be absolutely essential to your safely evading the police and starting your new life.”

LuAnn started to question him again but then thought better of it. She took his hand and closed her eyes.

He settled her down beside him. She could feel a light shine down on her features. She jerked as she felt the scissors cut into her hair. Jackson's breath was right next to her ear. “I would advise you not to do that again. It's hard enough to do this in such a small space with limited time and equipment. I wouldn't want to do you serious damage.” Jackson continued cutting until her hair stopped just above her ears. He periodically stuffed the cut hair into a large trash bag. A wet substance was continually run through the remaining strands and then it quickly hardened almost like concrete. Jackson used a styling brush to manipulate the remaining strands into place.

Jackson next clamped a portable mirror surrounded by nonheating light bulbs to the edge of the limo's console. Ordinarily, with the nose job he was going to perform, he would employ two mirrors to test profile constantly; however, he didn't have that luxury sitting in a limo in a Manhattan underground parking garage. He opened up his kit, a ten-tray case filled with makeup supplies and a myriad of tools with which to apply them and then set to work. She felt his nimble fingers flying over her face. He blocked out her eyebrows with Kryolan's eyebrow plastic, covered them with a sealer, dressed the area with a creme stick, and then powdered it. Then he created totally new ones using a small brush. He thoroughly cleansed the lower part of her face with rubbing alcohol. He applied spirit gum to her nose, and let it dry. While it did so, he applied K-Y lubricating jelly to his fingers so the putty he was going to use wouldn't stick to them. He let the putty heat up in his hand, and then commenced applying the malleable substance to her nose, methodically kneading and pressing until a satisfactory shape was created.“Your nose is long and straight, LuAnn, classic, really. However, a little putty, a little shadowing and highlighting and, voilà, we have a thick, crooked piece of cartilage that isn't nearly as becoming. However, it's only temporary. Everyone, after all, is only temporary.” He chuckled lightly at this philosophical statement as he went through the process of stippling the putty with a black stipple sponge, powdering the surface, stippling in a foundation color, and adding rouge to the nares to give a natural appearance. Using subtle shadowing and highlights, he made LuAnn's eyes seem closer together, and made her chin and jawline seem less prominent with the aid of powders and creams. Rouge was placed skillfully on the cheekbones to lessen their impact on her overall appearance.

She felt him gently examining the wound on her jaw. “Nasty cut. Souvenir from your trailer experience?” When LuAnn didn't answer, he said, “You know this will require some stitching. Even with that, it's deep enough that it probably will scar. Don't worry, after I'm done, it will be invisible. But eventually, you may want to consider plastic surgery.” He chuckled again and added, “In my professional opinion.”

Next, Jackson carefully painted her lips. “A little thinner, I'm afraid, than the classical model, LuAnn. You may want to consider collagen at some point.”

It was all LuAnn could do not to jump up and run screaming from him. She had no idea what she was going to look like; it was as though he were some mad scientist bringing her back from the dead.

“I'm stippling in freckles now, along the forehead, around the nose and cheeks. If I had time, I'd do your hands as well, but I don't. No one would notice anyway, most people are so unobservant.” He spread open the collar of her shirt and applied foundation and stippling around her neck. Then he buttoned her shirt up, repacked his equipment, and guided her back to her seat.

“There's a small mirror in the compartment next to you,” Jackson informed her.

LuAnn slowly pulled out the mirror and held it up in front of her face. She gasped. Looking back at her was a redheaded woman with short, spiky hair, a very light, almost albino complexion, and an abundance of freckles. Her eyes were smaller and closer together, her chin and jawline less prominent, the cheeks flat and oval. Her lips were a deep red and made her mouth look huge. Her nose was much broader and bore a distinctive curve to the right. Her dark eyebrows were now tinted a much lighter color. She was completely unrecognizable to herself.

Jackson tossed something on her lap. She looked down. It was a passport. She opened it. The photo staring back at her was the same woman whom she had looked at in the mirror.

“Wonderful work, wouldn't you say?” Jackson said.

As LuAnn looked up, Jackson hit a switch and a light illuminated him. Or her, rather, as LuAnn received a second jolt. Sitting across from her was her double, or the double of the woman she had just become. The same short red hair, facial complexion, crooked nose, everything—it was as though she had suddenly discovered a twin. The only difference was she was wearing jeans and her twin was wearing a dress.

LuAnn was too amazed to speak.

Jackson quietly clapped his hands together. “I've impersonated women before, but I believe this is the first time I've impersonated an impersonation. That photo is of me, by the way. Taken this morning. I think I hit it rather well, although I don't think I did your bust justice. Well, even ‘twins’ needn't be identical in every respect.” He smiled at her shocked look. “No need to applaud, however I do think that considering the working conditions, it does deserve some degree of acclaim.”

The limo started moving again. They exited the garage and a little more than half an hour later, they arrived at JFK.

Before the driver opened the door, Jackson looked sharply at LuAnn. “Don't put on your hat or your glasses, as that suggests attempting to hide one's features and you could conceivably mess up the makeup. Remember, rule number one: When trying to hide, make yourself as obvious as possible, put yourself right out in the open. Seeing adult twins together is fairly rare, however, but while people—the police included—will notice us, perhaps even gawk, there will be no levels of suspicion. In addition, the police will be looking for one woman. When they see two together, and twins at that, even with a child, they'll discount us entirely, even as they stare at us. It's just human nature. They have a lot of ground to cover and not much time.”

Jackson reached across for Lisa. LuAnn automatically blocked his hand, looking at him suspiciously.

“LuAnn, I am trying my best to get you and this little girl safely out of the country. We will shortly be walking through a squadron of police and FBI agents who will be doing their best to apprehend you. Believe me, I have no interest in keeping your daughter, but I do need her for a very specific reason.”

Finally, LuAnn let go. They climbed out of the limo. In high heels Jackson was a little taller than LuAnn. She noted that he had a long, lean build that, she had to admit, looked good in the stylish clothing. He put a black coat on over his dark dress.

“Come on,” he said to LuAnn. She stiffened at the new tone of his voice. Now he also sounded exactly like her.

“Where's Charlie?” LuAnn asked as they entered the terminal a few minutes later, a chubby skycap with the bags in tow.

“Why?” Jackson said quickly. He expertly maneuvered in the high heels.

LuAnn shrugged. “Just wondering. He'd been taking me around before. I thought I'd see him today.”

“I'm afraid Charlie's duties with you are at an end.”

“Oh.”

“Don't worry, LuAnn, you're in much better hands.” They entered the terminal and Jackson glanced up ahead. “Please act natural; we're twin sisters, if anyone asks, which they won't. However, I have identification to support that cover just in case they do. Let me do the talking.”

LuAnn looked up ahead and swallowed quickly as she eyed the quartet of police officers carefully scrutinizing each of the patrons at the crowded airport.

They passed by the officers, who did indeed stare at them. One even took a moment to check out Jackson's long legs as the coat he was wearing flapped open. Jackson seemed pleased at the attention. Then, just as Jackson had predicted, the police quickly lost interest in them and focused on other persons coming into the terminal.

Jackson and LuAnn stopped near the international flight check-in for British Airways. “I'll check in at the ticket counter for you while you wait over near that snack bar.” Jackson pointed across the broad aisle of the terminal.

“Why can't I check in myself?”

“How many times have you flown overseas?”

“I ain't never flown.”

“Precisely. I can get through the process a lot faster than you. If you messed up something, said something you weren't supposed to, then we might attract some attention that we don't really need right now. Airline personnel aren't the most security conscious people I've ever run across but they're not idiots either and you'd be surprised what they pick up on.”

“All right. I don't want to mess nothing up.”

“Good, now give me your passport, the one I just gave you.” LuAnn did so and watched as Jackson, the skycap behind him, swung Lisa's baby carrier in one hand as he sauntered over to the ticket counter. Jackson had even picked up that mannerism of hers. LuAnn shook her head in awe and moved over to the spot designated by Jackson.

Jackson was in the very short first-class line and it moved very quickly. He rejoined LuAnn in a few minutes. “So far, so good. Now, I wouldn't recommend changing your appearance for several months. You can wash the red dye out of course, although, frankly, I think the color works well on you.” His eyes twinkled. “Once things die down, and your hair grows out, you can use the passport I originally made up for you.” He handed a second U.S. passport to her, which she quickly put in her bag.

From the corner of his eye, Jackson watched as two men and a woman all dressed in suits moved down the aisle, their eyes sweeping the area. Jackson cleared his throat and LuAnn glanced in their direction and then away again. LuAnn had spied, in one of their hands, a piece of paper. On it was a picture of her, no doubt taken at the press conference. She froze until she felt Jackson's hand inside hers. He gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Those are FBI agents. But just remember that you don't look anything like that photo now. It's as if you're invisible.” His confident tones assuaged her fears. Jackson moved forward. “Your flight leaves in twenty minutes. Follow me.” They went through security and down to the departure gate and sat down in the waiting area.

“Here.” Jackson handed her the passport, along with a small packet. “There's cash, credit cards, and an international driver's license in there, all in your new name. And your new appearance with respect to the driver's license.” He took a moment to toy with her hair in a completely clinical fashion. He scrutinized her altered features and came away duly impressed with himself again. Jackson took a moment to grip her by the hand and even patted her shoulder. “Good luck. If you find yourself in difficulty at any time, here is a phone number that will reach me anywhere in the world day or night. I will tell you, though, that unless there is a problem you and I will never meet or speak to each other again.” He handed her the card with the number on it.

“Isn't there something you want to say to me, LuAnn?” Jackson was smiling pleasantly.

She looked at him curiously and shook her head. “Like what?”

“Perhaps, thank you?” he said, no longer smiling.

“Thank you,” she said very slowly. It was difficult pulling her gaze away from him.

“You're welcome,” he said very slowly back, his eyes riveted to hers.

Finally, LuAnn nervously looked down at the card. She hoped she would never have to use it. If she never looked upon Jackson's face again, it would be all right with her. The way she felt around the man was too close to the feeling she had experienced at the cemetery when her father's grave had threatened to swallow her up. When she looked up again, Jackson had disappeared into the crowd.

She sighed. She was already tired of running and now she was about to start a lifetime of just that.

LuAnn took out her passport and looked at its blank pages. That would soon change. Then she turned back to the first page and stared at the strange photo and the stranger name underneath it. A name that would not be so unusual after a while: Catherine Savage from Charlottesville, Virginia. Her mother had been born in Charlottesville before moving as a young girl into the deep South. Her mother had spoken to LuAnn often of the good times she had as a child in the beautiful, rolling countryside of Virginia. Moving to Georgia and marrying Benny Tyler had abruptly ended those good times. LuAnn thought it appropriate that her new identity should call that city her hometown as well. Her new name had been well thought out too. A savage she was and a savage she would remain despite an enormous fortune at her command. She looked at the photo again and her skin tingled as she remembered that it was Jackson staring back at her. She quickly closed the passport and put it away.

She touched her new face gingerly and then looked away after she eyed another policeman making his way toward her. She couldn't tell if he was one of the ones who might have seen Jackson check in for her. If so, what if he watched her get on the plane instead of Jackson? Her mouth went dry and she silently wished that Jackson hadn't left. Her flight was called. As the policeman approached, LuAnn willed herself to stand. As she picked up Lisa her packet of documents tumbled to the floor. Her heart trembling, she bent down to retrieve them with one hand, at the same time awkwardly balancing Lisa in her car seat with her other. She suddenly found herself staring at a pair of black shoes. The cop bent down and looked her over. In one hand he held a photo of her. LuAnn froze for an instant as his dark eyes bored into hers.

A kindly smile emerged on his face. “Let me help you, ma'am. I've got kids of my own. Traveling with them is never easy.”

He scooped up the papers, replaced them in the packet, and handed it to her. LuAnn thanked him and he tipped his cap to her before moving off.

LuAnn was sure that if someone had cut her at that instant no blood would have come out. It was all frozen inside her.

Since first-class passengers could board at their leisure, LuAnn took some time to look around; however, her hopes were fading. It was clear that Charlie wasn't coming. She walked down the jetwalk and the flight attendant greeted her warmly while LuAnn marveled at the interior size of the Boeing 747.

“Right this way, Ms. Savage. Beautiful little girl.” LuAnn was led up a spiral staircase and escorted to her seat. With Lisa in the seat next to her, LuAnn accepted a glass of wine from the cabin attendant. She again looked around the lavish space in awe and noted the built-in TV and phone at each seat. She had never been on a plane before. This was quite a princely way to experience it for the first time.

The darkness was rapidly gathering as she looked out the window. For now Lisa was content to look around the cabin and LuAnn used the time to think while she sipped on her wine. She took a series of deep breaths and then studied the other passengers as they entered the first-class compartment. Some were elderly and expensively dressed. Others were in business suits. One young man wore jeans and a sweatshirt. LuAnn thought she recognized him as a member of a big-time rock band. She settled back in her seat and then jumped a bit as the plane pushed back from its moorings. The flight attendants went through their preflight safety drill and within ten minutes the giant plane was lumbering down the runway. LuAnn held onto the sides of her seat and gritted her teeth as the plane rocked and swayed while it gathered speed. She didn't dare look outside the window. Oh Lord, what had she done? One of her arms flew protectively over Lisa, who appeared far calmer than her mother. Then with a graceful motion, the plane lifted into the air and the lurching and swaying stopped. LuAnn felt as though she were floating into the sky on an enormous bubble. A princess on a magic carpet; the image swept into her mind and stayed there. Her grip relaxed, her lips parted. She looked out the window and down at the twinkling lights of the city, the country she was leaving behind. Forever, according to Jackson. She gave a symbolic wave out the window and then leaned back against the seat.

Twenty minutes later she had put on her headphones and was gently swaying her head to some classical music. She jerked upright when the hand fell upon her shoulder and Charlie's voice filtered down to her. He wore the hat she had bought him. His smile was big and genuine, but there was nervousness evident in his body language, the twitching of his eyes. LuAnn took off the headphones.

“Good gosh,” he whispered. “If I hadn't recognized Lisa I would've passed right by you. What the hell happened?”

“A long story.” She gripped his wrist tightly and let out a barely audible sigh. “Does this mean you're finally gonna tell me your real name, Charlie?”

A light rain had started to fall on the city shortly after the 747 had lifted off. Walking slowly down the street in midtown Manhattan with the aid of a cane, the man in the black trench coat and waterproof hat seemed not to notice the inclement weather. Jackson's appearance had changed drastically since his last encounter with LuAnn. He had aged at least forty years. Heavy pouches hung under his eyes, a fringe of brittle white hair circled the back of his bald head, which was mottled all over with age spots. The nose was long and saggy, the chin and neck equally so. His gait, slow and measured, matched the feebleness of his character. He often aged himself at night, as though when darkness came he felt compelled to shrink down, to draw nearer to old age, to death. He looked up into the cloudy sky. The plane would be over Nova Scotia about now as it traveled along its convex path to Europe.

And she had not gone alone; Charlie had gone off with her. Jackson had stayed behind after dropping off LuAnn and watched Charlie board the aircraft, not knowing his employer was only a few feet away. That arrangement might work out all right after all, Jackson thought. He had doubts about LuAnn, serious doubts. She had withheld information from him, usually an unpardonable sin. He had managed to avoid a serious problem by eliminating Romanello, and he had to concede that the difficulty had been partially his in the making. He had, after all, hired Romanello to kill his chosen one if she had failed to accept his offer. However, he had never before had a winner on the run from the police. He would do what he always did when confronted with a possible disaster: He would sit back and observe. If things continued to run smoothly he would do nothing. At the slightest sign of trouble, however, he would take immediate and forceful action. So having capable Charlie along with her might prove to be a good thing. LuAnn was different from the others, that was certain.

Jackson pulled his collar up and slowly ambled down a side street. New York City in the darkness and rain held no terror for him. He was heavily armed and expertly skilled in innumerable ways of killing anything that breathed. Anyone targeting the “old man” as easy pickings would painfully realize the mistake. Jackson had no desire to kill. It was sometimes necessary, but he took no pleasure in it. Only the attainment of money, power, or ideally both, would suffice as justification in his mind. He had far better things to do with his time.

Jackson turned his face once again to the sky. The light rain fell on the latex folds of his “face.” He licked at them; they were cool to the touch, felt good against his real skin. Godspeed to you both, he said under his breath and then smiled.

And God help you if you ever betray me.

He continued down the street, thinking intently and whistling while he did so. It was now time to plan for next month's winner.