“The FBI just found your car.”
Evelyn let her head drop into the crook of her elbow. “No! Oh, God!”
“They went public with a snippet of video footage. They caught you leaving the parking structure at Logan, and again taking the T. They don’t know for sure, but they’ve told the public that you may have caught a bus to the Cape.”
“No! Hal!” Her body had already started to shake. “I had my hat on! My shades! I changed shirts in the ladies room before we got on the bus! I changed Chrissy’s clothes twice! How did they . . . ?”
“Manpower. From what I’ve been able to tell, they put hundreds of agents on this, and they scoured thousands of hours of video from hell and back. They used facial recognition and the latest body recognition software. We were out-manned and out-teched.”
“Shit.”
“I’m so sorry, Evie. I know it sucks.”
She groaned.
“There’s a ferry at eight a.m., and you need to be on it. Cover up and wear the baggiest clothes you’ve got and try to remember to skip or swing your arms differently. The software is still rudimentary enough that you’ll get away with it.”
“Okay.”
“Keep Chrissy in your arms whenever possible so they can’t scan for her movement, either. I will contact you once you get back on the mainland, and I’ll have some ideas how we can switch things up.”
Evelyn stared at the bug-encrusted light fixture again. She felt limp. Her brain had glazed over. “What am I going to do?” The pitiful voice she heard was her own. “This is a total disaster.”
“You’re not alone. I am helping you every step of the way. And don’t you dare give up. Stay pissed! Wahlman is a scummy, lying dickhead who rigged the custody decision. Don’t forget that.”
Evelyn broke down. She tried to keep the noise to a minimum by burying her mouth in the crook of her arm, then realized it probably didn’t matter much—Chrissy would soon be hearing a lot of crying.
“Evie. Please.”
“Why are you doing this for me, Hal?” Her sob came out as a hiccup. “You’re putting your own future at risk.”
He laughed. “Honey, first of all, we’ve been over this—no one will ever find me. Remember, this is what I do. It’s my thing. And second of all . . .” Hal got choked up. It took him a moment to find his voice. “You saved my life, Miss Evelyn ‘Feed The Speed’ McGuinness. I was killing myself. I was thirty-nine and I was fucking killing myself with junk food and sitting on my ass in front of a bank of computers. You took me under your wing and—”
“Hal—”
“You asked, so let me answer.” He cleared his throat. “Evie, you taught me how to shop and cook and eat. You stood by me when I stumbled—and you know I stumbled a lot—then you picked me up each time. You shared everything you knew about training, fitness, equipment, mental preparation, physiology, and race strategy. Basically, you held my hand for six long months until I got my act together! My health and happiness are because of you. I owe you my life.”
She shook her head, reaching for a strip of bathroom tissue to blow her nose. “I care about you. You’re my friend. And all that stuff, the nutrition and training stuff, it is just what I do.”
“Right on, sister. Right on.”
Chapter Eight
Crazy-crackers-reckless-stupid insanity. That’s what M.J.’s night had been made of.