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I inspected the portable DVD player and deemed it okay to bring. Annie pulled several DVDs from the shelf, stuffed them into the bulging diaper bag. Together we jammed everything in the back of my Jeep.
I’d wanted to be in and out in thirty minutes; it took thirty-six. I could live with that.
“This is really happening,” Annie said. She was shaking.
“Don’t fall apart on me now,” I said.
Annie shook her head. “I’m okay.”
“You’re doing the right thing.”
“I know.”
Annie transferred the car seats into my Jeep, buckled in her kids, and we left.
PJ had a million questions. Annie responded vaguely, but he seemed to be satisfied with her nonanswers. Marie was drinking a bottle. She was eight months old with big brown eyes that looked at everything. She didn’t talk. Much easier to work with a baby than a preschooler.
I’d had my associate Theo leave the car we’d procured for Annie in Tempe, near the ASU campus. Far enough from Annie’s house in case we were followed. We weren’t. There wasn’t much traffic on a Sunday morning, so I would have noticed a tail.
I loaded the bags into the trunk of an old but reliable Toyota 4Runner that had been donated for this effort. The registration was Arizona, but the tags were in Annie’s new name—April Carra. Because PJ was nearly four, he knew his name, so I needed to create identities close enough to make it easier for him to learn and adapt.
While I handled the luggage, Annie secured the car seats into the back of the 4Runner.
“Mommy, are we going on a vacation?” PJ asked. “Is this a new car? Where are we going?”
“Hold on a minute, honey,” Annie said. She looked lost. “I—what if he asks?”
“He will,” I said, “and you’ll tell him what we discussed. It’s up to you how much you think he can handle and when. But you’re his mom. He trusts you. He’ll adjust. He’s a good kid.”
“He is. I—”
“Stop second-guessing yourself.”
“I’m not. I’m not,” she emphasized. “I know this is the only way I live to see thirty. The only way my babies don’t grow up with that monster.”
Good. That was the right way to think. Still, I knew the next few weeks would be the hardest.
I handed Annie a thick manila envelope. “New IDs. They’re false names, but these IDs are real, not counterfeit.” It helped that I knew a few people in key government positions, people who didn’t mind bending (or breaking) the law for a good reason—and because they trusted me. “New last name. The kids have the same first names, but yours is now April. The address where you’re going, your contact there. There’s a job lined up, temporary housing, and only one person who knows what’s going on. She’ll keep the secret, help watch for any threats. There’s also a prepaid phone. Keep it charged. Only call me if you have a real emergency. No social media, no emails, and don’t ever access your joint bank accounts, credit cards, nothing. I know this is going to be hard.”
“You warned me. I’m ready for this.”
“I know you are.”
I hugged her. Annie needed it; so did I. The last twelve weeks had been stressful for both of us.
“One more thing.” I reached into my glove compartment and handed her a thick bank envelope.
She shook her head. “No. I told you, I have enough.”
“Three thousand isn’t going to last long. You’ll need to find permanent housing, buy food, clothes, diapers—you name it. Take it. Really, I have a new client who will pay me twice this to prove her husband is cheating on her.” I hated adultery cases, but they paid well. I shoved the money into her hands. “Go.”
Annie wiped away tears. “Thank you, Margo. Thank you for everything.”
I watched Annie drive off. Scanned the parking lot, made sure no one else was watching, following. All clear.
Hopefully Annie could build a real life for herself in San Antonio. I’d tried to find a place farther away from Phoenix, but had to make due with limited options.
She was safe—for now. I wanted Annie and her kids safe forever, which meant putting Peter Carillo, abusive husband, out of commission.
