“Yeah. But why can’t I bring it with me?”
“I can’t risk you getting held up in customs by having it on you. It’s more important that you get to London. If I have to, I can replace what’s in the package. Besides, it might make it there before you do, and hopefully I’ll beat you there. I’m safe, but I’m not out of the woods yet, and I really need to move while night is on our side. I have a lot of ground to cover.”
“‘Our’? You aren’t alone? What’s going on?”
“I can’t explain. Read me back the bullet points, Ken.”
He quickly did.
“Okay,” Peyton said. “Send me Trevor’s info. As soon as you do, I’m wiping the app from this phone because it’s borrowed. If I can snag another phone before then, I’ll let you know. Keep your app open as long as you can before you have to go into airplane mode.”
“Yeah.”
“Tell no one. Not even Gillian,” Peyton repeated. “Now get moving.”
And just like that, the call ended.
Ken pulled up Trevor’s info, copying it and pasting it into the app, sending it as a text.
A moment later, he received a thumbs-up emoji in response.
After shoving both phones into his back pockets, he took a moment to splash water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror to make sure this was real and not some whacked-out dream.
He barely recognized himself, the dark circles under his eyes, the exhaustion.
What the actual fuck is going on?
After Ken retrieved the safety deposit box key—which was hidden in their cabin exactly where Peyton’s instructions said—he snagged his laptop and carried it to the bedroom to handle the ticketing there in case Dewi returned. He didn’t want to risk her catching a glimpse of his screen. He couldn’t fly to London directly from Spokane without several plane changes that wouldn’t get him there for over a day and a half, but he could take a direct flight from Seattle with only one short layover and no plane change. And he could grab an afternoon commuter flight from Spokane to Seattle and make the flight out of Seattle with plenty of time to spare.
With his stomach rolling again, he booked the reservations, giving himself a week on the round-trip ticket.
Hell, the pack was paying for it if he had to change it.
He still hated to fly, although the increasing frequency with which he did it had made it somewhat easier to tolerate.
Not enjoy—just tolerate.
He also had no adapters for his computer or electronics, but he knew he could buy those at the airport.
While he had the computer open, he pulled up the file on the thumb drive Peyton referenced, opened it, took a picture of the info with his phone, and then copied several of the other information files in there to his secret online account Peyton had also told him to set up.
He could hit the bank on his way out to grab the stuff from the safe deposit box and ship it once he reached Spokane.
What the hell do I even pack?
He dumped out both carry-ons, spread jeans, shirts, and sundries between them, didn’t bother packing any toiletries besides deodorant, his razor, and his toothbrush, and made sure he had all his chargers for his electronics and stuffed them into his backpack.
What am I forgetting?
He looked at his list, added a notebook and a couple of pens to his backpack, and then made the call to Trevor Clarke’s cell phone.
Ken wasn’t even sure what time it was over there and hoped the man answered.
He did. “Ken? Are Tamsin and the baby all right?”
He briefly thought about how Aisling had asked him the same thing, remembered the latest unresolved complication there, and then shoved that thought out of his brain. “Yeah, listen, I can’t talk. This isn’t about them. I am flying over. Do not tell anyone I’m coming. Not even Dewi, Duncan, or Badger if they call you. You are the only one who can know I’m coming, and you need to be at home waiting for me when I arrive.”
“Why?”
