Free Don't Look Behind You by Lois Duncan Page B

Bram exploded into tears. “Iwon’t wear contacts!” he shouted, going suddenly hysterical. “I don’t want things stuck in my eyes, and Lorelei can’t have Porky! He’s my dog, not her dog! She doesn’t even likehim!”
    The scene that followed was one of such emotional chaos that there was no more opportunity for sensible discussion. That night, however, after Bram had wept himself dry, after Rita had left to go back to Washington, after a dinner of takeout Chinese food and an evening spent watching sitcoms—I lay in bed, surrounded by my sleeping family, watching the play of lights on the wall across from me as cars sped along the highway in front of our motel. It was only then, thinking back on that strange conversation, that I realized the question I’d asked had never been answered.

CHAPTER 7
    Rita was back again in five days. This time she brought official-looking papers in a folder that contained, among other things, four birth certificates, four passports and a marriage certificate.
    The name on my father’s birth certificate was “Philip Weber,” and my Mom’s was “Ellen Paul.” The marriage certificate was made out to show their true wedding date.
    â€œAt least we can celebrate our real anniversary,” Mom said.
    Bram’s new birth certificate gave his name as “ Jason Weber,” and mine showed me to be “Valerie Weber,” a name that I instantly hated. Not that I had ever been too crazy about my real name. I’d always thought it sounded like an ingenue on a soap opera. But I knew there was no way I could ever be comfortable as “Valerie.” When I heard that name the picture that leapt into my mind was of Steve’s old girlfriend draped all over my own date, Bobby Charo, at Sherry’s Christmas party.
    â€œI will not be a ‘Valerie,’” I said. “That name has bad vibes for me. Why can’t we choose our own names?”
    â€œNames are the least of our worries,” Rita said shortly. “Our main concern is to get you people relocated. A major effort is being made to find you, and we want to get you transferred as quickly as possible.”
    â€œWhat’s happened now?” Dad asked warily.
    â€œYour mother-in-law had a phone call. The man identified himself as Mrs. Corrigan’s editor. He told Mrs. Gilbert a movie producer wanted to buy the film rights to one of her daughter’s books.”
    Mom’s face lit up with the first real smile in weeks. “Did he say which book they want? What studio is it?”
    When Rita didn’t reply, her excitement faded. “I take it you don’t believe the call was legitimate.”
    â€œWe know it wasn’t,” Rita said. “We called your publisher. The editor who was supposed to be trying to reach you was away on vacation. Nobody in the office knew a thing about a movie offer.”
    â€œOf course not,” Mom said with quiet acceptance. “Now that I think about it, a movie offer would have come through my agent, not my publisher, and neither of them would have tried to reach me through Lorelei. I don’t think they even know what my mother’s name is.”
    â€œA man like Vamp knows all the angles,” Rita said.
    â€œI don’t like this,” Dad said. “How soon can we get out of here?”
    â€œYou leave tonight,” Rita told him. “It’s all taken care of. I have you booked on a six p.m. flight to Florida.”
    â€œFlorida!” Dad exclaimed. “That doesn’t make sense. The drug trade in that state is the highest in the country.”
    â€œVamp knows that too,” said Rita. “It will work in your favor, because it will be the last place he’ll expect us to send you. You’ll land at the Sarasota Bradenton Airport, but your final destination will be Grove City, fifty miles east of there. You’re to travel in pairs, and your