Page 4 of Wraith
Dad
Turning the letter over, Amelia read the address and frowned. Of all the places this guy chose to live, why Kirkland Lake? Winter there was no joke. She used to see videos of the snow there and shivered even when it wasn’t snowing in Toronto. It got cold enough to freeze the damn lake hard enough for people to drive across it. All her life she’d managed to stay away from the middle of hell’s tundra, now her father had her flying toward it.
No.
Fuck all that noise.
Assuming someone else’s identity was illegal. There was no way she would break the law. With her luck, she’d get caught. Hell, she’d definitely get caught because she couldn’t tell a major lie to save her damn life. She would lose her job at the bank and everything she’d worked so hard for. But the worse of it, she could wind up going to prison. Amelia had come to the decision years prior she wouldn’t do well in prison.
No matter what was happening, this had to be another one of her father’s ploys to see her. He’d been MIA for ten years, why pop up now? What did he want?
And who the hell is Kristy Swansea?
The nagging question wouldn’t go away. Even after she gathered all the things her father sent her, shoved them to the bottom of her purse and hurried by Sarah for the elevator, it stayed with her.
It didn’t matter because Amelia had no intentions of going anywhere.
The ride back to Kennedy Station wasn’t a crowded one. But she sat in the last car, back to the wall, watching everyone who came and went wondering if they were the ones out to get her. She noted every emergency exit, just like her father had taught her the third to last time before he vanished.
Who did that?
Who taught their little girl how to mark a suspicious face, how to escape a building if being chased, how to lose a tail—she was a teenager and he’d made sure she could free herself like a secret agent.
At the last stop, she all but bolted from the train, darted ahead of everyone else and jogged up the escalator. At the top she made a right turn, through the turnstiles then ran up the two sets of steps and burst out the door to the parking lot. When she found her car amongst the sea of others, Amelia checked the backseat like she’d been taught. With that clear, she checked over her shoulders and around her. The parking lot was full of vehicles but as far as she could see, she was the only person there, aside from the attendant. On her right side the street was clear except for a speeding car followed by a city bus. On her other side was a wall.
“This is stupid.” She muttered, walking to the driver’s side, pulling the door open and climbing in. Instead of going to a car rental place like the letter instructed her Amelia drove toward home, stopping to pick up groceries and an ink cartridge for her printer. When she was finally on the 401 highway heading to her house, she called her best friend on the hand’s free.
“Lady, you are one hard person to get a hold of,” Lisa Clemons said. “You left work early?”
“Yeah.” Amelia toyed with the idea of telling Lisa all but refrained. “I’m not feeling well.”
“You okay?”
“Just a headache.”
The lie came too easy, she thought.
“Well, go home and rest. No staring at the computer screen for you,” Lisa said. “Hey, listen. There was a cop here earlier asking me questions about you.”
Amelia arched her brow. “A cop? What kind?”
“Um—A Columbo-esque sort. Trench coat, shiny badge, I don’t know—a cop.”
“What kind of questions was he asking?”
“The regular stuff—how long I’ve known you. Have you ever been in trouble with the law? I figured your bank was doing another one of their random checks again.”
“Yes. That’s probably what it was.” Amelia agreed. She didn’t want to spook Lisa. Her bank had a company responsible for background checks and they were way past talking to people in their workers’ lives. Instead, the bank used an RCMP check. Door to door investigating commanded too much time and manpower. “So, how are you doing? I haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks. I feel abandoned.”
“Oh, Sweet Thang, you know I adore you!” Lisa joked. “But lately more films have fallen on my desk than the last five damn years. I have to cast six this week and I feel like I’m drowning.”
“What you need is a girl’s night,” Amelia said. “Why don’t I clear up some stuff then let you know? We could rent a hotel room, do the whole girl’s weekend spa deal and not have to clean up our mess—what do you think?”
“I think I love you.”
Amelia laughed. “Okay. I’m driving. I’ll call you later.”
“Good. Later hon.”
