"Run!"

Carrie walked quietly away from the office building. It was snowing as she climbed aboard the bus she usually took home. Her mind was whirling. - What had just happened? Was it real? What should she do? Did they see her? Was David in trouble, or was he the trouble? It couldn't be true. This was too weird. She had looked into David's office to say good bye. She was later leaving than her usual Friday noon, but there had been a few things that needed tidying and if he knew she was leaving late, he might put something extra in her pay check.

David was standing next to a tall, gray man which made his short, plumpness even more apparent. Their backs were to the door which was slightly ajar. There was a pile of cash on David's desk and a body seemed to be slumped in David's chair. She moved quickly back to the outer office. If she was lucky they didn't hear her. She walked past her desk, picked up her waiting purse and coat, walked out the door and got on a bus.

The bus rolled down the street, loading and unloading passengers. At least a place to start would be to try to figure out if David needed help, or if she needed help. When she got to her apartment she called the office. No answer. That couldn't be good. She left a message saying she was sorry she hadn't said good bye, but she had tickets to a concert and didn't want to miss any of it. She was leaving in a few minutes and would be out until almost midnight. If he didn't mind she thought she might be late coming in on Monday. If that was a problem could he leave a message on her machine, but everything was caught up. If there was a problem he wouldn't call back, but if there was no problem he would be all over her since he knew that everything was not caught up. Still he had agreed to Friday afternoons off when he hired her.

She took a shower and had a cup of coffee and a sandwich as she tried to figure out what to do. The phone rang. She jumped. When the machine answered it, she heard David's voice harsh in her ear, "Run!" Just one word and then a gurgle. It didn't sound good. She glanced out the window down at the sidewalk. Darkness sure seemed to come early in the winter and it was dusk already. She could make out some figures loitering that weren't the usual hoodlums. One of the normal kids came up trying to chase the stranger off his territory and the next thing she knew the kid was sprinting down the street.

She reached for the light switch, but thought better of it. She could function in the semi-darkness, but a light might tell anyone she was home. The timer would turn it on in an hour, so she needed to move fast if she was going to run and David had said to run. Business woman or student - who could hide better? Student. Could she pull it off at thirty five? Maybe. She dug out her old back pack from college. And began to pile things on the bed - lap top, socks, underwear, bank book, address book, the fake book with her mother's jewelry and some pictures of her family, ditty bag with extra meds and toiletries, sweat suit and jogging shoes, a jersey dress and roll up flats. Deftly she packed it into the pack and hefted it.

It would be as much or more weight than she wanted to carry. She pulled on a pair of blue jeans with a pair of tall leather boots. Found her flannel shirt and a sweat shirt as well as a jacket and stocking cap. There she looked just like she did when she went to college in Meadville. She transferred the contents of her purse to an older leather bag she had carried in college moving her cash around. She hid some of her cash in the back pack, some in her shoes and some in the bag. Hopefully this would all be a mistake and she and David would be laughing about this in a day or so. She put the tape from her old fashioned answering machine in her bag as she glanced out the window again. The watcher was still there. A car pulled up and a second man joined the first, both were bulky, big men in suits. They turned and walked purposefully towards her building.

She pulled on her hat, shoved her hair inside it, stuffed her gloves and keys in her pocket. After a quick look around the apartment she grabbed the back pack and purse, and walked out locking the door. She rode the freight elevator to the basement, walked up to the ground floor and out the back of the building. Looking tentative would be a disaster, so she strode purposefully towards the local coffee shop half a block away. She sat in the back facing the door as she connected her lap top to the internet. David was on the news. He was dead and she was being sought in connection with the case. Two men in suits came into the coffee shop, laying their topcoats over nearby chairs before they sat. She "worked" on her lap top as they looked out the window in front watching her building and drinking coffee while they talked. They sure didn't sound like law enforcement to her. What the frak was going on?

The two men from across the street joined the original two. The taller of the new guys said, "She's not home, must be at that concert. I put in some bugs so we should be able to get her as soon as she surfaces." The older of the four said "We'll wait here till then." Carrie was trapped. She ordered a cab over the internet and rose when it got there. Scrunching her hat down on her head, she walked with a limp towards the door. The men glanced at her, but this handicapped student had no resemblance to the classy secretary who worked for David Stearn Financials.

"Where to miss?" the Vietnamese cabbie asked. "Head towards Middleton, while I check out the house number," she said as she punched numbers into her cell. When the phone was answered she asked if John was there. He wasn't. She said she had a package to deliver to him, could she have the house number. 123. "That is 123 North First Street?" she asked. The answering response was a curt "Yes." John must be married to a real bitch she thought, as she told the cabbie the address. When he stopped the car she paid him with a tip careful that it was the right amount. Too much or too little and he would remember her.

She walked up the steps to the house and rang the bell. A harassed looking woman came to the door. "Are you the au pair?" she asked. Thinking fast Carrie said "Sure," and walked in. She put her back pack in a corner and her purse on top of it. When she took off the stocking cap her black hair cascaded to her shoulders. "Here you'll need this, they pull," said the tired woman handing her a cloth covered rubber band. As soon as her hair was up, the woman handed her a baby. "The diapers are through there. Okay." The little girl was quiet and quite stinky. It took Carrie a while to find everything, but years of caring for younger sibs meant she could handle this easily. In the meantime, she was safely hidden until John came home.

When she came back in the room, she found the woman in a chair asleep with her head resting n the table. She began picking up toys, with the baby on her hip. By following the noise she found two little boys playing in the next room. She smiled and said "Hi, is everything okay?" The oldest said "I'm Matt and that is Johnnie. I'm five, he's three. You're holding Cassie, she is one and it is her nap time." Yep Carrie thought - five. "Does she get a bottle before she naps? I'd rather not wake your Mom." "Oh sure it is in the fridge, I'll get it. Just wait." The last was addressed to his brother. She could hear the microwave running and then Matt came back with a bottle. "Her bed is through there. Now we have to play." Matt turned his back on her, his mind busy focused on the game.

Cassie drank her bottle, burped and went to sleep like a dream. Putting the baby in a carrier on the floor, Carrie began to pick things up and carry dirty dishes to the kitchen while she thought about what to do. John's wife looked exhausted and Carrie wasn't sure what would happen if she sat down herself. Carrie had just finished washing dishes when the woman came into the kitchen. "You're hired, no matter what," she said. A drawn out "Oh kay," was Carrie's response. "John should be home in about a half hour, I was going to make soup. Everything is in the fridge. Do you think you could handle it so I could shower? I'm Helen by the way" the kid's mother asked. "Go for it. I am a whiz at soup." So Carrie had another task to occupy her body while she sorted things out.

Forty five minutes later, Carrie heard John come in. His wife met him at the door whispering about the great new au pair she had found. Carrie heard Cassie stirring and went to change her before they ate. Everything was ready for the table. "The strangest thing," John said as he came into the kitchen. "One of my classmates is a person of interest in the death of David Stearn, the financial whiz kid. Just heard it on the news. She wasn't the type, real straight arrow, smart too, I can't figure it," he said as the children came into the room and were assisted into chairs. He was facing Carrie as she walked in with his baby in her arms.

"Am I now?" she asked, laughing at the expression on his face. "Don't worry, I'm not a bad guy, but I'm not an au pair either." She said to Helen, whose face had fallen. "Maybe I can trade some au pair work for some help from your husband, before he calls the office and tells them that I am here. You do still work for the government, don't you?" He nodded and said, "It might be better if we wait until after dinner, when the kids have gone to bed." After the meal Carrie said "John, why don't you give the boys their baths while we clear the table and do the dishes. Then we can talk. We aren't going to do anything right away and we have made quite a mess in here." So John was left to his boys while Helen and Carrie made short work of the clean up. Carrie told her to forget it when Helen started to apologize for mistaking her for an au pair. "You do look a bit old to be tending somebody else's babies. You should be minding your own."

They were both sitting with their feet up when John returned. Carrie was struggling to stay awake. John flicked the television on for background noise while they talked. "The boys are asking for stories Hon, if you don't mind." He smoothly maneuvered his wife out of the room. "So what happened and why on earth did you come to me for help?" he asked looking into Carrie's brown eyes. Time passed as she began to recount the day's events, jumping from David's phone call to the men outside her building. He soon asked her to start over and to tell him things in chronological order. "Begin with when you went in to work," John said as he started to make notes on a tablet from his brief case.

When she was getting to the point where she walked up the steps to his house, Carrie glanced at the crawl on the TV. and saw her picture. The news was on and she was indeed "being sought as a person of interest." Things would be more complicated if her picture was all over the news. John said, "I'll call a friend of mine with the police and tell them that I will bring you in, in the morning, maybe we can get that picture off the news. I can't act as your attorney once you are there, so is there anyone you want me to call?" Carrie shook her head, she knew attorneys, but they were all involved with financial arrangements. "There is a guy I have seen in court a couple of times, who is pretty good, should I call him? I could ask him to come to the house tonight if you wanted." John sounded like he was ready to take charge and Carrie was grateful for the help. Coming here had been the best.

John moved to the kitchen to make the call as Helen came into the room. "You look beat. Why don't you lie down on the sofa for a couple of minutes," Helen said softly. The last thing Carrie remembered hearing was Helen saying that she had called her folks and they were sending a car to pick her and the kids up in the morning early. Carrie drifted off to sleep, listening to John's muffled voice on the phone saying, "Tomorrow is soon enough." The words ran like a litany in her brain.

Carrie woke with a start. Helen was leaning over her speaking softly. "I just wanted to say good bye. The kids and I are off to my parent's farm. Thank you for your help yesterday. If you ever want an au pair job..." Then Helen and John were hustling the kids out the door down the steps. Carrie sat up with a start. She counted as she heard the clock strike. One, two, three...seven. How had she slept so long. She grabbed her back pack and went to the bathroom. Morning ablutions complete, she came back to the kitchen, where she found a place set at the table with a cup of coffee ready. John came back in and said "Toast?" as he pushed the bread down into the toaster. "Helen is taking the kids to her folks for the weekend and they wanted an early start. It's a long drive."

As the coffee hit her brain, she asked "What's the agenda? I fell asleep before you told me." John buttered toast and placed it before her as he told her that they would be leaving the house in about an hour for the station, where his friend Pete would meet them. He had filled Pete in last night. "I better put on something more presentable. Appearance is everything," she said as she swallowed the last of her toast and emptied her coffee cup. "I think I'll shower so I am wide awake." Back into the bathroom, hanging the jersey up to catch the steam, she showered quickly and pulled on the dress. With her boots on she came out of the bathroom in ten minutes carrying her pack. "Do I look more presentable?" she asked as she stowed everything in her pack. "Can I leave this here?" she asked. "No problem, put it on the table in the corner" he answered.
"Cab's here. Let's get this show on the road," He said pulling on his suit jacket, straightening his tie. Everything is going to be fine, Carrie thought as she pulled her jacket on over her dress. John put his topcoat over his arm and opened the door allowing Carrie to precede him down the steps as he locked the door. The sun was shining brightly on the snowy sidewalk. She took a deep breath of fresh air and smiled. Yep, fine. She barely felt the shot as it hit her and she fell to the sidewalk. Who was the rat? John? Pete? The Cabbie? Her cell, or computer? Or even Helen? Carrie's mind spun as she lost consciousness.

Author's note: I haven't decided so you pick the bad guy. They are all possibilities.