Page 25 of Thorn

It seemed that at least some of the stories her father had told her, and that she had believed to be true, simply weren’t true. She’d never lived on Rue de Tourneur. She’d never played in her grandmother’s yard and eaten her tart tatin.

How staggering a revelation was that?

For the first time Juliette didn’t trust anyone or anything.

She’d have to depend on herself.

What she needed was a plan. And the first step was to get away from the Russian men. They were her imminent threat.

Juliette had exchanged very little money when she’d arrived last night. Her wallet held just enough cash for taxis and a quick bite at a café. The rest she had assumed she’d put on her credit card.

Credit cards could be traced, too. But that was by really bad people.

The Russian men were evil. They’d probably be able to follow her credit card. She’d have to assume they could and that they had use of other kinds of technology, too.

They might even be able to follow this car. It wasn’t brand new, but it looked like it was new enough that it would have a computer system that could track it.

The why of all this, that was the confusing part.

There must be a reason.

All right. Okay. She’d assume that one way or another, the kidnappers or the police knew where she was. Someone knew. Should she actually try to go to the police?

Juliette didn’t know why, but that seemed like a mistake.

She was going to trust her gut. It was about all she had right now as a way of finding a course of action.

Her gut told her that the kidnappers would know where she was, and they would be right behind her. What she should do is give them a single place to look while she got herself together. They’d pinpoint her there at a single spot, but if she was quick enough, she could get away. And she’d have the supplies she needed to help her succeed.

Cash was a top priority.

Clothes. The books always did that, had their characters change clothing right away. And put on a hat and sun glasses. It was an overcast day and getting late. She shouldn’t go the sun glasses route.

The main thing, when trying to escape, was to blend. She’d read the novels where the women had cut off their long hair and dyed it a different color. She could do that, but it seemed to her that those characters were always spotted and recognized. If she’d already cut off her hair and colored it, she wouldn’t have any other way to obscure her look.

She pulled up to a shopping area. Staring down the street she saw the stores where she could go and equip herself. Juliette mapped a path. The electronics shop. The luggage shop for a backpack or such. Her things were still back at her hotel in Toulouse along with her computer.

She stared down the street, making a mental map and notes of how she’d progress forward without needing to backtrack. A solid plan to stand on. Something that might still her vertigo. After she got a backpack, she’d cross the street for some clothes. Next to that, three doors down, a shoe shop for some tennis shoes, these heels were a stupid mistake. There was a cafe just beyond, and a pharmacy for a quick grab of toiletries. All of it put on her debit card.

She scrawled a quick note for the owner.

I’m so sorry to have put you through this. Forgive me. I was kidnapped and running for my safety. You saved my life. I will always be appreciative and hold you in prayer.

Juliette put that note in the glove compartment with the keys. She left the car unlocked when she climbed out. She didn’t bother trying to hide her face, if there was someone watching her on cameras, they’d know where she was going. She thought that was probably a good plan. The car was here, why not get caught on camera? That way, when she decided to disappear, it would be a change in tactic, and it might confuse them. It might give her a little extra precious time.

She shut the car door and walked with faltering steps toward the shop for her phone. If she was only able to do one task, this was the one that was most important.

Juliette decided that she’d get the maximum cash back with each purchase. Then, she’d get out of the area, one way or another. They’d probably expect her to go back to Toulouse to gather her things. Maybe they’d expect her to head straight back to America. Surely if she could get to Paris, she could fly any place in the world. She just needed to pick a safe place to go.

Juliette pushed through the door into the electronics store. She brushed her hair behind her ears and looked around. The girl behind the counter glanced up from her phone.

“I’m pressed for time, would you mind helping me?” Juliette asked in French. She reached out to grab hold of the shelving unit. “Whew, excuse me, I’m a little dizzy.”

The girl’s gaze travelled down to Juliette’s boots and back up to her face.

Juliette knew the mud was readily visible on the wet knees of her jeans, though she’d brushed off the leaves and debris from her crawl through the ditch on her way to steal the car. She probably looked drunk…or crazy. The service vest her dog Toby wore announcing her disability was usually enough to take away those judgements. Right now, filthy and disoriented, well she’d be memorable, that was for sure.

Probably the most expedient way to get out of there was for Juliette to say exactly what she needed to this girl and see if she was helpful. Juliette could always run right back out the door.

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