The Twilight Saga Collection part 2(330)

It was as I had suspected. We couldn’t win. But we must have a good shot at killing Demetri before we lost, giving Renesmee the chance to run.

My still heart felt like a boulder in my chest—a crushing weight. All my hope faded like fog in the sunshine. My eyes pricked.

Who would I put this on? Charlie? But he was so defenselessly human. And how would I get Renesmee to him? He was not going to be anywhere close to that fight. So that left one person. There really had never been anyone else.

I’d thought this through so quickly that J didn’t notice my pause.

“Two birth certificates, two passports, one driver’s license,” I said in a low, strained tone.

If he noticed the change in my expression, he pretended otherwise.

“The names?”

“Jacob… Wolfe. And… Vanessa Wolfe.” Nessie seemed like an okay nickname for Vanessa. Jacob would get a kick out of the Wolfe thing.

His pen scratched swiftly across a legal pad. “Middle names?”

“Just put something generic in.”

“If you prefer. Ages?”

“Twenty-seven for the man, five for the girl.” Jacob could pull it off. He was a beast. And at the rate Renesmee was growing, I’d better estimate high. He could be her stepfather.…

“I’ll need pictures if you prefer finished documents,” J said, interrupting my thoughts. “Mr. Jasper usually liked to finish them himself.”

Well, that explained why J didn’t know what Alice looked like.

“Hold on,” I said.

This was luck. I had several family pictures shoved in my wallet, and the perfect one—Jacob holding Renesmee on the front porch steps—was only a month old. Alice had given it to me just a few days before… Oh. Maybe there wasn’t that much luck involved after all. Alice knew I had this picture. Maybe she’d even had some dim flash that I would need it before she gave it to me.

“Here you go.”

J examined the picture for a moment. “Your daughter is very like you.”

I tensed. “She’s more like her father.”

“Who is not this man.” He touched Jacob’s face.

My eyes narrowed, and new sweat beads popped out on J’s shiny head.

“No. That is a very close friend of the family.”

“Forgive me,” he mumbled, and the pen began scratching again. “How soon will you need the documents?”

“Can I get them in a week?”

“That’s a rush order. It will cost twice as—but forgive me. I forgot with whom I was speaking.”

Clearly, he knew Jasper.

“Just give me a number.”

He seemed hesitant to say it aloud, though I was sure, having dealt with Jasper, he must have known that price wasn’t really an object. Not even taking into consideration the bloated accounts that existed all over the world with the Cullens’ various names on them, there was enough cash stashed all over the house to keep a small country afloat for a decade; it reminded me of the way there were always a hundred fishhooks in the back of any drawer at Charlie’s house. I doubted anyone would even notice the small stack I’d removed in preparation for today.

J wrote the price down on the bottom of the legal pad.

I nodded calmly. I had more than that with me. I unclasped my bag again and counted out the right amount—I had it all paper-clipped into five-thousand-dollar increments, so it took no time at all.

“There.”

“Ah, Bella, you don’t really have to give me the entire sum now. It’s customary for you to save half to ensure delivery.”

I smiled wanly at the nervous man. “But I trust you, J. Besides, I’ll give you a bonus—the same again when I get the documents.”

“That’s not necessary, I assure you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” It wasn’t like I could take it with me. “So I’ll meet you here next week at the same time?”

He gave me a pained look. “Actually, I prefer to make such transactions in places unrelated to my various businesses.”

“Of course. I’m sure I’m not doing this the way you expect.”

“I’m used to having no expectations when it comes to the Cullen family.” He grimaced and then quickly composed his face again. “Shall we meet at eight o’clock a week from tonight at The Pacifico? It’s on union   Lake, and the food is exquisite.”

“Perfect.” Not that I would be joining him for dinner. He actually wouldn’t like it much if I did.

I rose and shook his hand again. This time he didn’t flinch. But he did seem to have some new worry on his mind. His mouth was pinched up, his back tense.

“Will you have trouble with that deadline?” I asked.