Subsequently, she’d gone over everything that had happened, been satisfied with how she’d dealt with things, then felt herself slipping into sleep.
The kind conductorcleared his throat to wake her up. Sheila felt groggy for a moment, wondering where she was. He seemed to notice her confusion, because very slowly he explained that they were approaching Penn Station.
“Thank you,” she told him with a nod of her head. “Thank you.”
He walked away to purportedly alert more passengers of their imminent arrival, which saved Sheila from thanking the man overly-much. She often didn’t know how many kudos someone wanted or expected in an exchange like that; how many were appropriate. In this situation, she guessed that two had done the trick.
Gathering her things and standing, Sheila chose the opposite end of the car from where she’d entered as her point of egress. There was no need to run into the men she’d suspected of watching her. Having changed her look, they probably wouldn’t notice her now, anyway. She hoped to blend in if one of them happened to be looking for her.
Once Sheila was on the platform, it was easy to integrate herself into the crowd.
There were people. Lots and lots of people. Which normally would have freaked Sheila out, but in this case, it actually made her feel like the travelers around her were, in a way, protecting her anonymity.
As soon as she spotted a bathroom, she headed straight for it, giggling at her actions under her breath.
Bathrooms were becoming her safe space. That was funny.
Once inside where a man couldn’t follow, Sheila felt comfortable taking out her computer. She leaned back against the long, sink-counter—getting puzzled looks from a few patrons that she ignored—and opened up the app for the ride service she’d previously located that would get her from New York to a hotel she’d picked in Boston.
She was soon connected to a virtual assistant, who took her information and gave her directions to the spot outside the station where a Mercedes van would be parked for loading up those folks traveling to Boston, like her.
The only thing Sheila didn’t like was that even though she’d been told she could pay the driver in cash for her fare, she’d also had to give the company a link to her bank account back home, to secure her spot.
When the person or bot—Sheila wasn’t sure which—assured her that they wouldn’t access her funds unless she failed to pay upon arrival, Sheila had reluctantly given over that information.
After making her arrangements, finally satisfied, Sheila had closed up her laptop and left the bathroom.
It was time for the final two legs of her journey.
She couldn’t wait to see Tabitha’s face when she showed up in Maine.
CHAPTER 30
They’d hadno additional word from anybody last night or this morning.
No additional clues. No good Samaritans. No bad guys.
It was eating away at Spencer.
He knew Tabitha had to be beyond frantic at this juncture.
They’d finally gone to bed after midnight, only to toss and turn. They’d discussed the reality of things, understanding that from here on out, no matter what was happening with Sheila, Tabitha’s sister wouldn’t be inclined to try to contact them or any local authorities who might help.
The dearth of anything more from the person they were calling Ghillie—for lack of a better handle—was also distressing.
Tabitha had said she wasn’t surprised that her sister hadn’t taken the warning to heart. Or if she had, she’d been able to dismiss it. Sheila often misinterpreted situations. She also gave herself inflated credit for being smarter than most people, and would regularly reject suggestions that went counter to whatever she had percolating in her complicated brain.
Not hearing from Ghillie, though…
That was more concerning. Had he been able to snatch Sheila? Were his hands full, getting her to cooperate with him?Had that been the reason he hadn’t put forth any additional demands?
So many questions.
Tex had been on the virtual-hunt all evening, at least up until they’d told him to get some rest. None of the cameras he’d tapped into over the course of hours showed Sheila arriving inanystation after they’d been contacted by the woman in DC. Which meant Sheila had either slipped by surveillance, possibly in disguise, or Ghillie had managed to spirit her away in the same vein.
Now, here they were once again, up at 6AM, drinking copious amounts of coffee, and waiting for the phone to ring.
“You all need to eat something,” his mother scolded an hour later, looking at the still full plates in front of everyone. She’d gone out of her way to prepare scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon for the crew. “You’re not going to do Sheila any good if you don’t have food fueling your bodies and brains when she finally needs you.”
