You Can't Catch Me Page 16

  Once I thought she made me. We were sitting at Thai Me Up—all the Thai restaurants in town have punny names for some reason—me a couple of tables away from her, and she was looking at me like she knew me from somewhere. I smiled at her in a friendly way, nothing to be nervous about, and she smiled back. Then her food came, and she lost interest in me and went back to reading her book. But I was more careful after that. I didn’t need to be there for everything. I already had enough.

  I was there when Five got the notice that she’d won the contest we’d created, though. A UPS package left on her doorstep. I was sitting at the bus stop across the street, a Jackson Hole ball cap pulled down low. I watched her bend to pick it up, then open the package. She squealed when she read what was inside and almost skipped into her house. Who could blame her? An all-expense-paid trip to New York. A hotel room at the Parker. A $25,000 cash prize would be awarded to her there so she could travel to wherever she wanted and advance her art.

  When she was inside, I took out my phone and called the local paper. I’d checked them out too. They did a great job covering local events, but they weren’t a crack team of investigative journalists. I let them know that one of their local citizens had won a prize for her photography and that a press release would follow shortly. When they received it, the contact person to call was Jessie. JJ had designed a website for the prize—an anonymous philanthropist who enjoyed finding new talent and rewarding it—had set it up five years ago. His team of volunteers scoured the internet to find the year’s best photos. We’d worked hard to make it good enough to fool anyone, including Jessica Two.

  If Five, or anyone else, called the Parker, she had a reservation. A few days later, I was the one who called her to book her flight. When my own Google Alert picked up the story, I knew everything was in place.

  Now we had to wait and see if Jessica would take the bait.

  Chapter 23

  We Few, We Happy Few

  It’s August 15. JJ’s flying into Jackson this morning; Jessie comes tomorrow. Five’s flight is set for the day after that.

  I crawl out of my tent and work the kinks out of my body that have accumulated overnight. I’ve been camping in the park in the campground near Jackson Lake. It’s about forty-five minutes outside of Jackson, which is deliberate. I didn’t want to get known by a hotel, which would have been inevitable if I stayed there for weeks. The campground has the added benefit of being cheap and full of a transient population. It’s rare for the sites surrounding mine to be occupied by the same group two nights in a row. I bought a tent, sleeping bags, camp stove, and pans in town. I use a headlamp to read at night. I shower in the communal camp showers every other day so the attendants don’t get too used to seeing me. I talk to no one but Liam.

  It’s not the same between us as it was in New York. That idyll we created, where our differences and our pasts didn’t matter—that’s all slipping away. Liam doesn’t want me doing this, so he says on a regular basis, and yet he’s the reason I’ve been able to get this far. What am I supposed to do with that information?

  I try not to let thoughts of him consume me. I need to focus on what’s ahead. I need to shower, get dressed, and go pick up JJ. In forty-eight hours, this is all coming to a head.

  I start the clock in my mind and get to work.

  “Never thought I’d stay in one of these again,” JJ says as she stoops and peers into the tent. “You think we’re all going to fit in here?”

  “I bought two. Jessie likes to sleep alone.”

  She gives a look over her shoulder and stands up. She walks over to the paddleboards I rented. I’ve been taking one out most mornings, and I got two more yesterday for JJ and Jessie. When you get away from shore, the lake looks the way it must have before anyone got here and decided to erect a campground. Each morning I paddle farther, my arms straining until the effort seems less.

  “The tent’s not too bad with an air mattress,” I say.

  “Air mattress!” JJ says. “Ha.”

  “You didn’t have those in Afghanistan?”

  “Not so much.”

  She turns around to face me. She looks focused and far away at the same time.

  “Why did you pick here?” she asks.

  “It’s out of the way. No one stays here long. Easier to stay anonymous.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “You did a great job with that online stuff,” I say. “I felt like you captured Five’s authentic voice.”

  She smiles. She’s wearing a Killers T-shirt and cargo shorts. “Yeah, right. Whatever. You think it’s going to work?”

  “Five bought it.”

  “Sure. Who wouldn’t want a free trip to New York? But will she?”

  “Jessica will play along.”

  “Why are you so sure?”

  “She can’t stop now. She’s come too far.”

  “I hope you’re right.” JJ shakes her head. “If there’s a God up there, and he sees all of us in the same place, do you think he might open a rift in the time-space continuum?”

  “Like the intersection of religion and science fiction?”

  “Sure.”

  “I don’t believe in either.”

  “You would if you’d been to the places I have.”

  I walk away from the tent and sit on the top of the picnic table. The wood is perma-damp and a bit soft. “War made you believe in God?”

  “It did.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if there wasn’t a purpose bigger than me, or the government, to being there, then what the fuck was I doing?”

  “I guess that makes a certain sort of sense.”

  “What made you lose faith?”

  “Assuming I had it in the first place.” I rub at the scar on my arm. “It was forced out of me. You might even say burned.”

  “That’s pretty bleak.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine. I’m not here to sing songs around a campfire.”

  “Damn, and I’ve been practicing and everything.”

  JJ smiles. “That, I might like to see.” She looks at her watch. It’s around noon. “I’m hungry.”

  “I can make some pasta.”

  “Nah, let’s go into town. I’d like some of that punny Thai food you told me about.”

  I hop off the table. “That does sound good right about now.” I look around the campsite to make sure that everything is squared away, then walk over to the Jeep I rented when I got here. JJ and I climb in. I turn on the engine and put it in reverse. “You know what?”

  “What?”

  “I don’t think the time-space continuum is going to rip apart.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Jessica’s not one of us.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “I don’t care what her name is. She’s not a Jessica Williams.”

  The Thai place I like was full with its lunch rush, but the sushi place down the road wasn’t. Who eats sushi in landlocked Jackson? These girls, apparently. The decor is black lacquer and bamboo, and there’s a large fish tank near the bar that’s devoid of fish.

  JJ ordered a plate of spicy tuna, then mixed a boatload of wasabi into some soy sauce and proceeded to dunk each piece until it was almost drowning. Now I think she might be regretting it. She’s downed two large glasses of water, and she’s sweating like she’s in the desert when Five walks in with one of her girlfriends.

  She’s cute, Five. A head of curly hair that she must’ve hated when she was a kid but looks great on her now. Tall and athletic, she fits right in. She’s got her camera slung around her neck and is carrying her camera bag. She looks happy, lit up, and I feel a bit bad for the disappointment she’s going to feel when she gets to New York and learns that there isn’t any conference or prize. She’ll have a free weekend in the city, though. And she’ll still have all her money, et cetera, so it won’t be a total loss. I thought about asking Covington to look out for her once she gets there, but that would’ve
required more explanation than is prudent.

  “What are you looking at?” JJ asks between coughs.

  “Five is on your six.”

  “You proud of yourself for the military terms?”

  “A little bit, yes.”

  “You are having too much fun with this.” JJ looks over her shoulder. “She’s taller in person. Who’s the girl?”

  “A friend.”

  “How closely have you been tailing her?”

  “Pretty closely.”

  “Was that a good idea?”

  She dips the last piece of sushi into her wasabi float and pops it into her mouth.

  “About as much as that was.”

  “Right.” She pushes her plate away from her.

  “We should leave.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s seen me one too many times already.”

  JJ taps her fake arm on the table twice. I suggested she bring it with her instead of the hook to make her less conspicuous. “Great, good work.”

  “You try tailing someone in a small town.”

  “But why was the tailing even necessary, though?”

  “The more we know, the better.”

  “Funny,” JJ says. “I already feel like I know too much.”

  I push my plate away. I ordered the spider, deep-fried soft-shelled crab. It was delicious, but it’s roiling in my stomach right now.

  “Has she been in touch with you?” I ask.

  “Who, Jessica?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Nothing recently. You?”

  “No.”

  “That worry you?”

  “It’s hard to know what to think.”

  “I guess we don’t have any choice about going through with it.”

  “You having second thoughts?” I ask.

  “Always, but I think we should stick with the plan.”

  “We don’t have a choice, I guess.”

  The only choice is us. That’s what Todd used to say.

  I’m about to find out if that’s true, after all.

  Chapter 24

  Never Get Involved in a Land War in Asia

  After lunch, we explore Jackson a bit, then get back to camp around six. We’re still both full from lunch, so JJ suggests we go out for a paddle. The lake is crystal clear and flat, it’ll be light till ten, and I’m keyed up and awake, so I agree.

  We walk the paddleboards down to the lake and climb on. The cold water laps at my toes as I splash myself with my paddle. I start to lose my balance, then right myself.

  “Careful,” JJ says.

  “I got it.”

  “Don’t drink and paddle.”

  “It was your idea.”

  Despite my recent excursions, JJ is more efficient than I am on the water. She leaves her replacement arm behind, tucks the end of the paddle into her armpit, and uses her good arm on the shaft. We stop when we get to the middle of the lake.

  “It’s so beautiful here,” she says when I get close to her.

  “You could do a whole relentlessly positive segment. Live from the Tetons!”

  “That’s not a terrible idea. I mean, look at this.”

  She sweeps her arm away from her. The water is a clear blue, and the Tetons’ snowy peaks are sharp and close. The sky contains a few puffy clouds. There’s land across from us, thick pine forest that looks like the perfect home for moose and bears. We’re alone out here, not another person in sight, though I can hear an occasional echo coming from back at the campground.

  “It’s pretty amazing,” I say flatly.

  JJ shakes her head at me. “Don’t you get excited about anything?”

  “I’m just preoccupied.”

  “About the operation?”

  “Is that so odd?”

  “Nah. I always got that way before missions.”

  A shiver passes through me. It’s so tranquil here, so different from where she’s been. “Was it tough, over there?”

  “Tough?”

  “Yeah. You know, I mean, was it . . . Ah hell, I don’t know what I’m asking.”

  “It’s fine. We don’t learn how to talk about that stuff.”

  “We don’t have to.”

  JJ looks ahead. “Have you been over to the other side?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Looks pretty isolated.”

  “It is.”

  “Is it too far away?” she asks.

  “We’ll only know if we try.”

  “True. Shall we paddle?”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Jessie arrives the next day in the midafternoon.

  JJ and I have spent the morning going over the plan again, then lazing around camp, soaking in the sunshine and clean mountain air. Liam’s called twice, but I texted him back that I have bad cell reception and that I’ll call him when I can. The longer I spend here, and the closer I get to tomorrow, the farther away I feel from him, my life in New York, even the person I usually am.

  Jessie’s driving a nondescript sedan that she rented at the airport. She’s taken my advice and is dressed in hiking pants and a light cotton T-shirt. She’s got sturdy-looking shoes on her feet, and with her hair in a high ponytail and a pair of Oakleys pushed up onto her head, she looks like a local.

  I spent some of the time this morning setting up Jessie’s tent. She looks satisfied when I show it to her, then crawls inside and deposits her bags. When she comes out, she’s changed into shorts and a tank top.

  “Who knew it could be so hot in Wyoming,” she says. She fans herself, then swats at a fly.

  “Right?”

  I give her a brief tour of the campsite—pointing out the bathrooms and where I’ve stashed the cooler under a tree to keep it out of the sun. It’s next to the stack of paddleboards.

  “What are these?” Jessie asks.

  “Paddleboards. I rented them.”

  “You been having a good vacation?” she asks a bit aggressively.

  “I couldn’t tail Five twenty-four seven.”

  “I guess.”

  “Are we fighting for some reason?” I ask.

  Jessie blows out a long breath. “Sorry. It’s been a long day. And that landing. You should’ve warned me.”

  The Jackson Hole Airport is in the Teton National Park, and you fly right over the Tetons before dropping down into the valley. I’d found it nerve-racking, but the local sitting next to me on my flight told me that I should’ve seen what it was like before they lengthened the runway.

  “Bumpy?” I ask Jessie.

  “Three people puked.”

  “It was smooth sailing for me,” JJ says.

  “That right?”

  “We are pissy today,” I say. “All of us, I mean.”

  “We should talk about tomorrow,” JJ says.

  “Will that help?”

  “Never know until we do it.” She sits at the picnic table and pats the seat next to her. “Come on, now. I don’t bite unless asked.”

  It’s dark now, and we’ve eaten dinner and talked everything over. Our plan is as simple as we can make it. We go to the airport tomorrow. I set up shop inside and look out for Jessica Two. When she approaches Five, I watch from a safe distance. She’s most likely to leave the airport and head for town so she can get to Five’s bank and liquidate her assets. Jessie and JJ will be there to follow her if she does until I can catch up with them and we can confront her. But if it looks like she’s going to get on a plane, then I call in security.

  JJ left a few moments ago to go to the bathroom. Jessie’s inside her tent, shuffling around. I look up at the sky, the stars scattered like snow in a globe. Despite the heat of the day, there’s a frost warning in effect. I can see the beginnings of my breath, or its end.

  I should call Liam, check in for the night. But it’s midnight in New York. He’s probably asleep. He texted me while we were planning earlier, but Jessie gave me a look when I glanced at my phone, so I put it down without answering.

  I can hear
other campers moving around the campground. The slam of a camper door, then a car. A group of kids laughing. Teenagers, by the sound of it, in their loud, self-involved way. It’s so hard to tell the direction of sound, especially at night. The world is both quiet and loud all at once. One of the teenagers barks with laughter, only it’s a cruel sound, angry and mean. The zipper on Jessie’s tent slides down and she pokes her head out.

  “What’s going on?” she asks.

  “Just some kids.”

  “Sounds like something different. Where’s JJ?”

  “She went to the bathroom.”

  “That’s where those kids are.”

  “How can you tell?”

  Jessie puts her hands on the ground and hops out of the tent, landing on her hands and feet. Her shirt rides up her back, revealing her bony back. She’s much thinner than she looks in clothes. She stands up and straightens her sweater.

  “How can you not?”

  “Not what?”

  “Tell where the—”

  “You do not want to do that . . .”

  I spin my head around. “That was JJ’s voice.”

  We both take off running. The bathroom is two hundred yards away, and we’re there in thirty seconds. There’s a small crowd standing in a circle. People in pajama bottoms and puffy jackets, clutching their toilet bags to their chests. I can’t see JJ. I push past someone encased in fleece. JJ’s got a gangly teenager on the ground, her fake hand against his throat.

  “Get off,” he says in a squeaky voice. “I didn’t mean it.”

  “Please, miss? Please,” a girl with a rash of acne across her forehead says. “You’re hurting him.”

  “What’s going on?” I ask. “JJ?”

  She looks up at me. Her eyes are dark. “This little shit thought it would be fun to pick on a . . .” She turns back to him. “What was it you said? Go on, say it again.”

  He shakes his head vigorously. “No, ma’am, I’m sorry, please.”

  “Let him up,” Jessie says. Her voice is firm and as dark as JJ’s eyes. “Let him up now.”