Chapter 4 - Ghost in the City
The rain began five miles outside the estate, drumming an relentless rhythm against the cracked windshield. Julian kept his eyes glued to the dark asphalt, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. In the backseat, Lily had fallen into an exhausted, uneasy slumber, wrapped in Julian’s heavy wool overcoat. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, fitful breaths.
Julian looked at his dashboard. The fuel gauge read a quarter of a tank. His primary accounts were locked. His credit cards were useless pieces of plastic. Eleanor held the master keys to the family trust, and by now, her team of high-priced corporate fixers would have flagged his Social Security number, vehicle registration, and mobile device. Every digital footprint he left behind was a homing beacon.
He pulled into an abandoned gas station off the state route, shielded from view by rusted semi-trailers. With his hands steady, Julian popped the SIM card out of his phone, snapped the delicate silicon in half, and tossed it into the tall weeds behind the drainage ditch. Next, he unbolted the SUV’s front and rear license plates, throwing them into the dumpster.
""Daddy?"" a weak voice whispered from the darkness of the backseat.
Julian climbed into the back, kneeling on the carpeted floor. He smoothed back Lily’s damp blonde curls, wiping away the dry streaks of salt on her cheeks. ""I'm right here, angel. I'm right here.""
""My arm throbs,"" she said, her lip trembling as she looked down at the dark purplish bruise blooming near her elbow where Victoria had grabbed her.
A sickening wave of self-loathing washed over Julian. He should have noticed the bruises weeks ago. He should have smelled the alcohol on Victoria's breath, should have seen through his mother's velvet-gloved cruelty. He pulled an emergency first-aid kit from under the seat, gently applying cold ointment and wrapping the slender arm in clean gauze.
""We're going on a secret trip,"" Julian said softly, forcing a gentle smile that didn't reach his eyes. ""Like a mission. Just you and me.""
""Is Mommy watching us?""
Julian’s throat tightened so hard it ached. Elena’s face flashed in his mind—her laughter, her fierce loyalty, her sudden death from a hit-and-run that the police had conveniently ruled an unsolved accident.
""She is, baby. She's watching every step,"" Julian promised. ""And nobody is ever going to hurt you again.""
He reached beneath the floorboard where the spare tire rested. Underneath the rubber tire was an old waterproof metal lockbox he had hidden away years ago, before his wedding to Victoria. Inside lay twenty thousand dollars in untraceable cash, two blank prepaid debit cards, and an old, unregistered flip phone with a single number programmed into memory.
May you like
He flipped it open, dialed the number, and held the receiver to his ear.
On the third ring, a gruff, gravelly voice answered: ""I told you never to call this line unless the old woman tried to kill you.""
