awards and committees until he got to
the Senator's background and home life.
One city name jumped out at him.
If the odds were long that Cole could find Jessica
in Vegas, then Noah's of finding her anywhere else in the country should be nonexistent.
Noah had a competitive advantage: he had studied
every fact and figure of Jessica's life. He knew her bank account balances,
what salons she frequented, what kind of detergent and brand of soap her staff
purchased for the house. And though he didn't yet know Jess's real name, he had
a few substantial clues as to where she came from.
He needed to pack.
Chapter 9
Almost time.
Jessica hiked up the edge of the Carolina Mountain
trail, wishing she had packed better shoes. She still had some cash left, but
without the Visa cards that had gone missing on the bus, she was going to run
out of that soon enough. Best to make do with the same sneakers she had been
wearing most of the journey so far.
The late August air clung to her skin and cloyed
in her lungs, even though the sun had only been up an hour. The only part of
her that wasn't hot and sweaty was her palms, which were cold and clammy.
She glanced at the tri-fold tourist brochure that
contained the trail map. The scenic outlook she was headed for was not far away
now.
Early morning sunshine jetted horizontally through
the branches of the trees, alternately blinding her with its rays or playing
hide-and-seek behind the tall rock outcroppings. Despite the heat, the air
smelled sweet. Pure. Nothing like in LA where smog and cheap perfume
infiltrated everything.
She turned a corner and found herself in a small
clearing with a rustic pine railing along one side. Gingerly, she stepped to
the edge and glanced down.
A deep ravine cut through the mountain, falling
over a hundred yards before the tree branches obscured it. She stepped back and
looked around, running her fingers lightly across the guidepost sign that stood
by the railing. Underneath the Plexiglas cover was a laminate version of the
paper map that she held.
The spot was deserted, but it was early on a
Sunday morning when tourists were still in bed and locals were at church.
She was alone.
Jess sat down on the one bench and crossed her
arms over her chest, spent from the long hike from her motel to the park, and
then up the trail.
Ridiculous to have thought Tallie Wilson would
come in the flesh. Hell, these days, the woman probably had as many bodyguards
as Jessica.
It would do neither of them any good to be seen
talking, and it was too much to make it look like a chance meeting. The Mrs.
Grant Wilson that stood by her man at every political rally was never seen
without makeup, heels, or pantyhose. She would never come hiking in the woods
alone.
Maybe she never saw Jessica’s message.
There were only so many ways you could contact a
Senator's wife without half of the western world digging it up and reporting it
to the six o’clock news. Especially when you were the tart who tempted her
high-ranking husband to stray. After that story had run its course, there had been
nothing else for them to say to each other. But Jess had never stopped checking
for messages, and had chanced sending one of her own before she left LA.
She picked at the hem of her shirt as she tried to
decide what to do next. She hadn’t really expected Tallie to uphold her end of
their pact. It was time to get herself together and get out of the country.
Getting to the safe deposit box where a passport with her picture on it was
hidden would take most of her remaining cash, but she could make it. She had
started from nowhere once before. She could do it again.
She bent down to flick some mud off of her ruined
shoes.
It was then that she saw the envelope taped to the
bottom of the trail guidepost sign.
***
The small church cemetery was quaint and well-tended.
The street side was lined with pine trees that blocked most of the traffic
noise, the grass was a brilliant green and
the Senator's background and home life.
One city name jumped out at him.
If the odds were long that Cole could find Jessica
in Vegas, then Noah's of finding her anywhere else in the country should be nonexistent.
Noah had a competitive advantage: he had studied
every fact and figure of Jessica's life. He knew her bank account balances,
what salons she frequented, what kind of detergent and brand of soap her staff
purchased for the house. And though he didn't yet know Jess's real name, he had
a few substantial clues as to where she came from.
He needed to pack.
Chapter 9
Almost time.
Jessica hiked up the edge of the Carolina Mountain
trail, wishing she had packed better shoes. She still had some cash left, but
without the Visa cards that had gone missing on the bus, she was going to run
out of that soon enough. Best to make do with the same sneakers she had been
wearing most of the journey so far.
The late August air clung to her skin and cloyed
in her lungs, even though the sun had only been up an hour. The only part of
her that wasn't hot and sweaty was her palms, which were cold and clammy.
She glanced at the tri-fold tourist brochure that
contained the trail map. The scenic outlook she was headed for was not far away
now.
Early morning sunshine jetted horizontally through
the branches of the trees, alternately blinding her with its rays or playing
hide-and-seek behind the tall rock outcroppings. Despite the heat, the air
smelled sweet. Pure. Nothing like in LA where smog and cheap perfume
infiltrated everything.
She turned a corner and found herself in a small
clearing with a rustic pine railing along one side. Gingerly, she stepped to
the edge and glanced down.
A deep ravine cut through the mountain, falling
over a hundred yards before the tree branches obscured it. She stepped back and
looked around, running her fingers lightly across the guidepost sign that stood
by the railing. Underneath the Plexiglas cover was a laminate version of the
paper map that she held.
The spot was deserted, but it was early on a
Sunday morning when tourists were still in bed and locals were at church.
She was alone.
Jess sat down on the one bench and crossed her
arms over her chest, spent from the long hike from her motel to the park, and
then up the trail.
Ridiculous to have thought Tallie Wilson would
come in the flesh. Hell, these days, the woman probably had as many bodyguards
as Jessica.
It would do neither of them any good to be seen
talking, and it was too much to make it look like a chance meeting. The Mrs.
Grant Wilson that stood by her man at every political rally was never seen
without makeup, heels, or pantyhose. She would never come hiking in the woods
alone.
Maybe she never saw Jessica’s message.
There were only so many ways you could contact a
Senator's wife without half of the western world digging it up and reporting it
to the six o’clock news. Especially when you were the tart who tempted her
high-ranking husband to stray. After that story had run its course, there had been
nothing else for them to say to each other. But Jess had never stopped checking
for messages, and had chanced sending one of her own before she left LA.
She picked at the hem of her shirt as she tried to
decide what to do next. She hadn’t really expected Tallie to uphold her end of
their pact. It was time to get herself together and get out of the country.
Getting to the safe deposit box where a passport with her picture on it was
hidden would take most of her remaining cash, but she could make it. She had
started from nowhere once before. She could do it again.
She bent down to flick some mud off of her ruined
shoes.
It was then that she saw the envelope taped to the
bottom of the trail guidepost sign.
***
The small church cemetery was quaint and well-tended.
The street side was lined with pine trees that blocked most of the traffic
noise, the grass was a brilliant green and
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