Free Limelight by M Jet Page B

for a long moment without saying a word.  Finally, she averted her eyes and went back to her purse.
    "I told you I've been making plans to run away if we had to," Layla revealed, reaching into her purse and extracting a manila envelope.  "I hoped it wouldn't come to running away," she said, her voice breaking.  "But, it happens that I'm prepared." 
    She opened the envelope and invited Tara to peek inside.  A small bundle of papers, appearing to be a passport, and other identification documents.  "I can become somebody else.  Tonight.  Right now.  All I have to do is fix my hair up to match the wig I wore in the pictures and I'm ready…"
    Tara stared at Layla wide eyed with an expression of complete shock.  "What about me, Lay?  You're going to leave me?"
    "Tara, you need to stay behind, OK?  Stay here and don't tell anybody that you were here tonight.  That way you're not incriminated.  They'll assume I killed him and attention will be off you."
    Sobbing, Tara threw her arms around Layla and clung to her.
    "Shhhh, baby, listen," Layla pleaded.  "When the dust settles, I will come for you, OK?  We'll be together.  But you have to wait until you can get away without drawing suspicion.  OK?  Please Tara, believe in me."
    After a heartbreaking eternity, the women separated.  Tara nodded mournfully, and Layla sprang into action.  She grabbed Tara's purse and led her toward the door.
    "Listen to me, Tara.  If you're asked, you say you were with me all evening but went home around midnight.  That way, if anyone spotted us out walking earlier, you're not caught lying later.  In three days, if Seth hasn't been found, call the police.  Tell them you've been trying to reach me and that I haven't answered, so you're worried.  Got it?"
    Lingering by the front door, Tara bawled but nodded her consent.  Layla took her face in her hands.  "Baby," Layla said emphatically.  "I will come for you.  We will be together. I promise."
    Tara drew Layla into a long, desperate kiss.  Both women cried bitterly as they embraced.  But finally, Layla sent Tara out the door with a broken whisper.  "Go."
    She shut the door on her lover, and rushed to pack her bags.
    ***
    A woman in a beat up Nissan rolled to a stop at customs on the border of Washington state and Canada, approximately twenty four hours after the death of Seth St. John.  It was an area thick with swaying trees.  Quiet and peaceful.  She slowly rolled to a stop on a newly paved two lane highway with one wide yellow line down the center, and two small buildings, one on either side.
    She had a cute pixie cut of flaming red hair that was tucked beneath a black ball cap.  She wore sunglasses and nondescript jeans with a plain black t-shirt. 
    "Hi there, Miss.  Passport and identification please," said a uniformed man in the customs booth.
    Her name was Grace Webster, and she looked like any number of other people who coursed through the roads leading to and from Canada.  The man carefully looked over her paperwork and then turned to plug something into a computer.
    "Where you headed?" he asked her politely.  Grace gave the name of a small motel where she had a reservation waiting.
    "How long will you be in Canada?" the man asked. 
    His questions made her slightly edgy, but she knew they were standard.  She tried to overcome her nerves by giving him a bright smile.  "Indefinitely.  I'm here to interview for jobs and hopefully I will stay."
    "Lovely," the man said.  He turned back to the computer and seeing what he apparently wanted to, he returned her documentation to her.  "Enjoy your stay, ma'am," he said, and then the customs officer sent her on her way with a friendly smile.
    Grace Webster pulled over several miles down the road.  She got out of her car, sat on the hood, and simply looked around at the scenery for quite a long time.
    ***
    It made news all over the world when the body of Seth St. John was discovered by Victim Unknown's manager, a