Page 11 of Under the Radar
5
Not even her best friend would recognize her now.
Mo adjusted her new sunglasses and the wide-brimmed straw hat she’d purchased in the posh hotel sundry shop and gave herself a once-over in the mirror. Her signature long blonde tresses were tucked in a bun underneath the hat. The sunglasses screamed pure Hollywood and even covered much of the tender skin on her right cheek. It had taken her twenty minutes and lots of concealer, but the blossoming bruise from the fall in the kitchen was well-disguised with makeup and bronzer.
Her one surviving pair of heels clicked on the marble tile of the hotel lobby as she hurried to the concierge desk. An hour ago, she arranged to have her work computer delivered to the school administrative offices on North Avenue on Monday morning. She’d addressed the package to herself, knowing the mailroom would place the box on her desk with all the other mail that might stack up over the next six weeks. No way would she risk the information about the kids and families she served getting into the wrong hands, and her case manager would appreciate that the laptop was in a safe place. The hotel had assured her that the package was secure in the hotel vault over the weekend.
Mo handed the concierge a sealed letter requiring delivery on Sunday evening by courier to Officer Winters. It read as follows:
Dear Officer Winters,
Thank you for your kind assistance this past Friday evening. The enclosed key is for my apartment. Please excuse the mess. I assure you—I had nothing to do with it.
I won’t be home when you visit. Please understand that I have taken my personal safety into my own hands and I’ll be in touch.
Sincerely,
Mo Reardon
She handed the concierge a handsome tip, thanked him for his help, and strode off through the revolving doors into the bright sunshine of Pratt Street. A rideshare waited for her at the curb. She loaded her compact, wheeled suitcases into the back seat, climbed in, and pulled the door shut.
“Where to, lady?”
“The cruise terminal, please.”
Mo had decided three things during her near-sleepless night at the hotel. She couldn’t go to her parents’ home and jeopardize their safety, she had to get out of Baltimore, and for goodness’ sake, she needed a vacation. The details Mo had easily handled on a hotel computer. A cruise was perfect. Security was tight, there were no weapons on board, and honestly, she’d rather enjoy the sumptuous buffets and sunshine than die at the hand of whoever scrawled that message on her bathroom mirror.
Mo glanced at her watch. 12:15 pm. She just might beat the rush and breeze through cruise security and the embarkation lines. In that case, she’d be sunbathing within a couple hours. She glanced at the sun glinting off the water in the harbor before her driver swung onto a highway ramp heading for the waterfront piers.
Minutes later, the massive ship came into view. Despite her worry, Mo grinned. She’d booked some fun in the sun. A small wave of guilt washed over her having used her best friend Tia’s credit card to pay for the stateroom—an expensive single. But they’d taken care of each other since college, and she’d pay Tia back with the cash from her emergency fund. The reservation had required credit to obtain the Float & Go card Mo would use onboard.
If Detective Brewster wanted to find her, the first thing he’d do was look for activity on her bank accounts and credit cards. But Brewster and Jones didn’t worry her nearly as much as the animals who’d trashed her apartment. She wasn’t about to leave clues behind that would lead to her location.
Mo patted the passport hidden in the left side of her camisole. It would take the detectives a day or two to wonder where she was. It might take longer if Officer Winters didn’t visit her apartment right away. She’d paid cash at the hotel and used her mother’s maiden name during registration. It had required a room deposit to register without a credit card, but it was worth it. No paper trail.
Mo paid the taxi driver and waved off the porters at the cruise terminal. No way in hell was anyone moving her luggage but her. Not with all that cash stowed inside.