Page 35 of Capturing Hearts

I watch in silence for the length of seven Victorian homes, then, “Nah. He’s gone.” Exhaling, I give my shoulders a little shake. “That was too close.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in the city.”

“What?!”

“She’s in the city, dipshit. Where am I supposed to be?”

“You’re supposed to be out of there in daylight! That’s where!”

Knowing he’s right, I growl, “Look, do you have a computer or not?”

“Yeah, I do. Why?”

“Find Rebecca Wells. Google her and ‘charities.’ She’s gotta be listed with a contact number.” While I wait for him, I flip the radio on to calm me down. Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas comes on and I change the channel to Classic Rock. The opening guitar riff of Led Zeppelin’s Over The Hills and Far Away sounds through the speakers and I put my hand on my thigh, tapping out the chords as I drive. “You got it?”

“Yeah. She’s gorgeous. Who is this? Is she going to help you?”

“Ha,” I say, dryly. “That’s a laugh. No. But I want to talk to her.”

“Tommy–”

“Bruce! Give me the damn number!” I bellow, my patience shot. He does, but he can’t stop himself from muttering that I have a death wish.

Dialing Rebecca’s number, I wonder if she’ll answer an unknown caller. She just might since she gets calls all the time from people she doesn’t know, working with all those organizations.

After three rings, I hear her smooth voice. “Hello?”

With Zeppelin playing softly in the background, I drive along, imagining her soft, dark hair pulled back over her ear with the phone pressed against it. Her long legs crossed in an elegant pencil skirt. Her supple lips pursed as she waits for me to talk, those almond-shaped, soft brown eyes of hers concentrating underneath a small frown.

“Hello?” she asks again, this time with a tinge of urgency. “Tommy?”

I hang up.

I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before I called. I’m on the news. She’s probably seen my escape. The last guy to escape San Quentin was Eduardo Mariscal in September of 2000, a legend on the inside. I’m sure my escape is broadcasted across the nation now.

Rolling down the passenger window by hand, I toss the phone onto the road and drive off.

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