Come Undone
by Miss Shannon
Epilogue
Miss Parker had always been afraid of running, afraid of turning her back on what she knew in favor of the unknown and unchartered. Then one day she just did.
Vanishing off the radar was never simple and especially difficult if it was a powerful and evil corporation's radar. She had one advantage, though: She had been head of security at the Centre long enough to know a thing or two about tracking down people and, consequently, about how to avoid being tracked down by Centre security.
First of all: withdraw cash. Not all at once and not amounts that could make you look suspicious. She had become quite adapt at it over the course of the previous months. A thousand here, presumably to spend on shoes that had cost a fracture (and she had never worn them once as they had been $ 39,95 and she would not be found dead in cheap shoes like that), a couple of thousands there to pay for a paint job that had never been carried out, five hundred while chasing for Jarod and so on. She was now in possession of twenty thousand in cash which would get her someplace. Getting out of the country was tricky, however, as there was a lot of airport security including CCTV that would routinely be reviewed by Centre staff, so she decided to stay in the US for a while. She had acquired a fake passport for later, though, and she kind of liked the name Veronica Davis.
Packing light was and would always be a problem but she had got herself under control. No more racy suits and high heels for her if she wanted to be able to make quick exits. While shopping for jeans, leather pants, sensible boots and simple tops, it had begun to dawn on her that she might have stood a better chance of catching Jarod if she hadn't always ben chasing him in stillettos and mini-skirts. She had only taken her favorite pair and a plain black suit as you never knew when you might need them.
On the way out of Blue Cove, she stopped at the side of the road and placed her already switched off cell phone on the ground to first crush the SIM card then the phone itself with the heel of her new boots.
The evening was warm and the fragrant air blew her hair away from her face through the open window of the old black sedan she had traded her Porsche in for. The number plates were false and from Michigan – just in case.
Miss Parker threw a look back at the bag on the backseat that now contained her life. Her hands were clasped tightly around the steering wheel while her future stretched wide in front of her in the endless velvet sky.
Then, driving by the city sign of Blue Cove, Miss Parker smiled for the first time in a long while. Just before the tears began to cloud up her vision.
