heartbeat, she turned around. A very cute, very scruffy twentysomething guy sat on the stool next to hers, nursing a beer.
"Crazy story, huh?" he asked, looking right into her eyes.
Her eyes. Her eyes. Ariana had to get her hands on some colored contacts. What if this guy recognized that the light blue eyes staring at him now were the same ones staring out from the TV screen?
"It really makes you think," he added.
Ariana took a breath. He didn't recognize her. Her mug shot was right in front of him, and yet this guy had no clue.
This was going to work. It was already working.
Suddenly Ariana realized how close she had come to the edge. When she had first heard her name, she had been ready to do anything to silence the person who had recognized her. Ready to kill. And the thought scared her. She had to squelch that side of herself. Had to make a new start now that she had a second chance. Taking lives was not an option. She knew that it was wrong.
Plus, where there was a dead body, there was usually a murder investigation. And she couldn't have that.
I will not lose control, Ariana promised herself right then and there. I will not hurt anyone.
"I know," Ariana said smoothly, making sure to keep her Southern accent buried. She glanced up at the picture of herself just before it was pulled from the screen. "Totally, totally insane."
77
A moment later he got up to go to the bathroom, leaving his credit card on the bar to pay for his drink. Southern men. So trusting. With the bartender's back turned, Ariana slipped the card into her pocket and casually strolled away. There had to be a quickie eyeglass place in this mall somewhere. Hearing her name and seeing her own face broadcast on national television had been enough to put a bit of a scare in Ariana. It was time for another change. She was not going to risk someone looking into her distinctive blue eyes and seeing Ariana Osgood.
78
NEW FRIENDS
Wearing her new skirt and a crisp white T-shirt, her auburn hair pinned back from her face to highlight her new green eyes, Ariana walked up to the gates of the Walker Country Club and sat down on the clipped grass next to the drive. Seeing a golf cart zooming toward the gates from the direction of one of the surrounding PGA-level courses, she cupped her ankle with both hands. Furrowed brow, concerned frown, shoe tossed carelessly on the grass: Clearly she was a girl in need of assistance.
The golf cart slid to a stop right in front of her, making the zipping noise Ariana recognized so well, and two older, distinguished-looking gentlemen in khaki pants and tasteful pastel shirts stepped out.
"Are you all right, miss?" the taller one asked. His lined face was red from the sun, save where his sunglasses sat on the bridge of his nose. He wore a white mesh golf hat, but it clearly had done nothing to shield him from the elements.
79
"I think I may have sprained it," Ariana replied, grimacing through her Southern drawl.
The second man, whose skin was smooth and had just a touch of a healthy tan, glanced up at the gates, still locked. "Were you coming or going?"
A warm breeze rustled the trees around the gates and Ariana's heart skipped an excited beat. She was going to get inside. This was going to work. Amazing how one day all she could think about was breaking out of a place, and a few days later all she could think about was breaking into another.
"Coming," Ariana said. "I was supposed to meet my friend by the pool half an hour ago." She gave them an endearing, embarrassed smile. "I'm afraid I'm a notorious latecomer."
The two men laughed and each offered her a hand. Ariana couldn't help but notice their exclusive Tag Heuer watches. Very nice. "Well, don't worry. We'll get you to her."
"Really? Oh, thank you ever so much," Ariana said, laying it on thick.
She let the taller man pull her to her feet and leaned into him as he helped her over to their cart. He grabbed her overstuffed backpack and