Lauren, as though beseeching her to understand. “My brother can’t get involved. And if the police come…” She shook her head and reexamined the small overhead window. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
Lauren couldn’t comprehend the brutal life this woman had lived, but God knew she understood the desire to run away, to escape. They both needed to slip out undetected. But how? She bit her bottom lip, then a wild idea came to mind. “How badly do you want to leave?”
“You have no idea.” Kerri-Leigh blew out a heavy sigh, then glanced at the small window. “But it’s impossible.”
Lauren placed an arm around Kerri-Leigh, and drew the stringy-haired blonde to the smudged, bathroom mirror. They stood side by side and stared into the cloudy glass. “What do you see?”
Kerri-Leigh shrugged. “Two women.”
“Two women who could never pass as twins, granted. But with a little work, a bit of makeup and imagination, we just might be able to pass long enough for you to reach the front door.”
Kerri-Leigh shook her head. “Brady might be drunk, but he’s not blind.”
“We won’t let him see your face.” Lauren placed her gym bag on the countertop, then dug inside for her brush, disregarding the yellow envelope she hadn’t taken time to open. “With your hair pulled up and my sunglasses on…”
“It’ll never work.”
“I’m taller, but…” Lauren continued to comb Kerri-Leigh’s yellow-blond hair, noting the shorter woman didn’t pull away.
“And much thinner,” Kerri-Leigh said. “Heck, you look like a New York fashion model and I’m—”
“In trouble,” Lauren reminded her. “Just listen to my plan.” Unclipping her own hair, Lauren shook out the strands. “I’ll wear your clothes, slip out of the bathroom and slide along the wall to the jukebox, my back to everyone in the diner. As I play around with the buttons, you walk out the door, head high.”
“And then run like hell?” Kerri-Leigh arched a brow, then shook her head. “I might want to leave Brady, but I’m not crazy. He’d chase me down in that big old Plymouth of his.”
For a moment, Lauren worried about the wisdom of getting involved, but she couldn’t stand by and let Kerri-Leigh be brutalized by that man. And as for loaning her car to a stranger, she should probably dump the vehicle anyway, especially if her kidnapping had made national news. She dug through her purse and withdrew her car keys and a pen. “I have a Ford Expedition outside.”
“Oh, I couldn’t take your car. How will you get home?”
Home? Lauren didn’t know where home was anymore. And she’d like to ditch the car for a few days, just until she was ready to surface. “Don’t worry about me,” she said with a sense of false bravado. She handed Kerri-Leigh the keys. “Leave my car at the nearest bus depot or train station. I’ll find it there. Do you have any money?”
“Only enough to get about ten miles down the road.” Kerri-Leigh’s shoulders slumped. “Not far enough to keep Brady away.”
Lauren reached into her wallet and withdrew a hundred-dollar bill. “Take this.” She watched a moral dilemma cross Kerri-Leigh’s face, but took the worried woman’s hand and pressed the bill in her palm. “I have plenty.”
“I’ll pay back every dime.”
“I know you will,” Lauren said, not caring whether she saw a penny of it. “But listen carefully. Stay off the interstate and don’t drive any farther than you have to.”
If Kerri-Leigh had any suspicions about Lauren’s reason for the instructions, she didn’t let on. “But what about you? How will you get out of here?”
“I’ll call a cab and get a hotel room in the nearest town.”
“You might have a heck of a time finding a cab that will come all the way out to Tannen.”
“Then I’ll hitch a ride,” Lauren lied, her voice sounding more confident than she felt. “Don’t worry about me.”
“My brother, Cole, will be here soon. He’ll take you anywhere you need to go, especially since you’ve helped me. He’s honorable about that sort of thing.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Laurie said.
“All right,” Kerri-Leigh said as she began to unbutton her blouse. “Brady had just ordered another drink when I excused myself. Maybe he won’t notice at that.”
Within minutes, they exchanged clothing. Lauren did the best she could to pull Kerri-Leigh’s hair into a twist and clip the ends. A quick but thick application of red lipstick, followed by dark sunglasses made Kerri-Leigh appear older, wiser and certainly different.
While the smaller woman admired the makeover, Lauren ran her fingers through her own strands, knowing they’d never look as stringy as her new friend’s had. But then, she just needed to appear similar, at least from the backside, and only for a few minutes. She studied her reflection in the mirror, and a stranger wearing hot pink leggings and an oversized white shirt stared back at her. She garnered a smile. “Okay, let’s give it a try.”
As they stood before the door, Kerri-Leigh paused, then reached for Lauren’s hand. “You’ve been a real friend. And taken on more than most women would. I really appreciate this. What’s your name?”
Lauren opened her mouth to speak, but the words stuck in her throat. What was her name? Lauren? Not originally.
Her mother had called her Laurie. The nickname evoked vague memories of love and warmth. Lauren wondered if she might, at some level, try to tap into the person she should have been, instead of the polished, manipulated aristocrat who had tried to please everyone but herself. A woman who had the means to purchase anything her heart desired—except happiness. “Laurie,” she answered, hearing the sweet, simple sound for the first time in years.
Kerri-Leigh smiled. “I won’t forget you, Laurie. You’re a saint.”
A saint? Hardly, she thought. God knew she had tried, but it was never enough. She could still hear the crisp, nasal sound of Aunt Caroline’s voice. Laurie Smith is simply too plain, too common. You’re a Taylor now. You need a name that reflects money, culture and class. Lauren Taylor suits you much better.
And, according to Aunt Caroline, so had a liberal arts degree instead of pre-med.
And blond hair instead of brown.
As Kerri-Leigh reached for the doorknob, Lauren tapped her shoulder. “Wait. Before we go, where’s the nearest hair salon?”
“You mean beauty shop?”
Lauren nodded. “I’d like to have my hair dyed.”
Kerri-Leigh furrowed her brow. “Why? The color is perfect.”
A perfect color? It should be, at the rate she’d paid Jonathan to lighten it. “Thank you, but I want to darken it.”
“It’s cheaper to do it yourself.”
Cost
