She pressed her forehead into his chest, thinking. Her nose ran and she wiped it with the back of her glove. My choice. Her own attorney had told her that her case was unwinnable. She was afraid of prison. She was afraid of those hard women. Those real criminals. She was terrified of being locked up, unable to escape. Unable to breathe. Even when they put the handcuffs on her in her living room that day, she started to scream. How did people stand being locked up with no way, absolutely no way, out? She imagined her mother telling people, “I have three children, but one’s in prison.” The humiliation Riley and Danny would face. It was already bad enough for Danny. He didn’t understand exactly what was going on, but he knew kids were talking about him. He’d always been a happy, bubbly kid, and suddenly no one wanted to be his friend.
“I’m just scared,” she said.
“I know. Me, too.”
“I want to do it,” she said.
“There’s no going back.”
“I know.” She turned away from him and reached up again for the kayak. “I can do it myself.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” The front strap came free and she started to work on the rear strap, ignoring the numbness of her fingers and thinking of nothing other than getting her kayak in the water.
Her father waited in the car while she carried the kayak over her head to the river. He’d picked a good spot for her to put in. The bank eased down to the water. No nasty rocky drop-off. She risked shining the flashlight into the river and saw that it was already starting to freeze along the bank and was choppy and frothy and wind-whipped farther out. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to shove the boat far enough into the water for the current to grab it, but she gave it a great push and the river ripped it from the bank, just like her father had predicted. With the last of her strength, she tossed the paddle as far out in the water as she could. Then she remembered she was supposed to put her jacket in the kayak. Too late now. She took it off and tossed it hard across the water, but the wind blew it against the shrubs along the bank and out of her reach. She stared after it for a moment, shining the beam of her flashlight on it. Nothing she could do about it now. The snow landed on her throat and she pulled up the collar of her sweater, her fingers barely able to grip the fabric.
Her father checked her car with his flashlight to make sure she hadn’t left anything incriminating inside. She took the bag with the towel and empty box of hair dye, but left her backpack in the car, as they’d planned. Her driver’s license, her wallet with the pictures of Riley and Danny and Matty—everything was left behind in the backpack. Then her father took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders and they trudged through the thick woods to get back to his car. They could have walked along the road, but he said he was worried about tracks, even though the way the snow was coming down now she thought they’d be okay.
By the time they got back to his car, they were both freezing. He turned on the heat and she took off her wet gloves and held her hands in front of the vent.
“Has to be the coldest night of the year,” her father said.
“You have a jacket for me, right?” she asked.
“It’s in the backseat.”
She turned to look in the backseat, but it was too dark. “And a new backpack?” She worried he might have forgotten something. There was so much to remember.
“No backpack. You have a new purse. It’s with the jacket.”
“A purse? Daddy, you know I never carry a purse.”
“Lisa never carried a purse,” he said. “Ann Johnson does.” She was Ann Johnson in all her new documents.
She started to unfasten her seat belt to reach behind her for the purse and jacket, but he put a hand out to stop her. “Wait till we have some light,” he said. “I want to get away from here.” He began carefully backing the car out of the narrow lane. It took forever, and by the time they were again on the parkway and he put his lights on, she was horrified to see that the dashboard clock read two-thirty.
“You’re not going to have time to drive me to Philly and be back home by morning!” she said. That had been the plan, and it was already falling apart. He needed to “discover” she was missing in the morning. He was supposed to go to her room to make sure she was up and ready for her nine o’clock appointment with the attorney, and he’d find her gone and the note in her place.
“We’re okay,” he said calmly. “I’m not taking you all the way to Philadelphia.” He glanced at her, but it was too dark to read his face. “Don’t panic,” he said.
“What do you mean, you’re not taking me to Philly? I’m supposed to be on that eight o’clock train!”
“You will be. Don’t worry.”
“How?” He was really scaring her.
“Now listen. You remember a man I work with? Tom Kyle?”
“I have no idea who that is!” She knew she’d met a man with that name somewhere, but she was too upset to admit it to her father.
“Well, you’ll probably recognize him. We’re meeting him at the rest stop on 95 and he’ll drive you to Philly.”
She felt ice run through her body. “He knows?” she asked. “You told him? You said absolutely no one! Tell absolutely no one. That’s what you said. You—”
“Stop it.” He stared straight ahead at the road. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing. Tom will keep his mouth shut.”
“How can you be so sure? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. I wouldn’t have—”
“Lisa!” he shouted, shutting her up. “It’s set, all right? I promise you. I absolutely guarantee you. You’ll be safe.”
She went quiet. She’d never liked it when he yelled at her. He was a soft-spoken, calm person, and those rare times he yelled shook her up.
He turned onto the Beltway and they didn’t speak for half an hour, not until he’d exited onto 95. Then he suddenly broke the silence.
“I’ll always love you, no matter what you’ve done,” he said.
He would always believe she was a murderer. Tears clogged her throat. The truth or a lie, she knew it didn’t matter to him. Her parents would love her regardless of anything she’d done. She’d tested their love to the limit during her lifetime.
They came to the first rest stop and he pulled off 95 and into the empty parking lot.
“He’s not here.” She stated the obvious.
“He will be.” He left the car running so they’d have heat and could use the wipers to keep the windshield clear. “Let me see your hair,” he said.
He turned on the overhead light to look at her as she pulled off her hat. He rubbed his hand over his chin. “Maybe we should have gone with the wig.” He sounded nervous. “Wear your hat as much as you can and stick to yourself on the train. Your picture’s been all over the news for months.” He pointed to the bag on the floor by her feet. “Give me the bag,” he said, and she handed it to him.
She watched as he got out of the car, walked through the few inches of snow, and tossed the bag in the trash can by the brick building that housed the restrooms. She was tempted to lower the visor mirror to look at her hair again, but decided not to depress herself any more than she already was. She’d had long pale blond hair all her life. She wasn’t going to like the girl she was becoming.
Daddy shook off the snow and got back in the car, looking at his watch. Then he reached into the seat behind him and grabbed the jacket and purse, handing them to her. In the overhead light, she saw that the purse wasn’t new at all. It was some thrift shop thing and nothing she’d ever buy for herself, but she wrapped her hand around the straps, trying to get used to the feel of them. She’d never owned a purse and her shoulder already missed the thick strap of her backpack.
“Did you remember the suitcase?” she asked, worried. She’d totally forgotten about it herself.
“In the trunk.” He turned to look back at the entrance to the rest stop, then checked his watch again.
The suitcase held only the new documents she’d need and some clothes her father had bought for her. She couldn’t risk taking any of her own. Her mother would know they were missing. She had no idea if the police would believe the suicide story or not. They might think she ran. They’d look at airports and train stations. That’s why she was taking off from Philly instead of D.C. Even so, it was a huge risk. When the police came to the house in the morning, Daddy would point out that Violet was still in her room. “She’d never leave without her violin,” he’d say. He’d pretend to notice that the kayak was missing. He’d have to be careful not to point out too much, though. He’d raise suspicion. They’d ask if she’d been depressed lately, and he would be able to honestly answer yes. She was certifiably depressed. They’d made her see a shrink, who’d said she should be watched carefully. She felt terrible that her mother would think she hadn’t watched her closely enough and that she should never have gone to Granddad’s this close to the trial. She didn’t want her mother to blame herself.
“Now, listen to me, Lisa,” her father said. “I want you to memorize something. Do not ever, under any circumstances, write this down, okay? Just keep it in your head.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve opened a post office box,” he said. “It’s only to be used in a dire emergency. I won’t be able to check it often, at least not for a while, but you’ll have it if you need it.”
She suddenly felt as though she could breathe. She had a way to reach him!
“What’s the address?” she asked.