The Sins of Lincoln by Alyssa Nightly Read Free Book Online Page A

the bank. Make sure no one is following you. Use the key to unlock locker number 2289. Inside you’ll find proof of who I say I am, along with further instructions.
     
    The note was not signed. Mav sat in stunned silence. She looked around at each person in the deli with a profound sense of paranoia, stood, then walked out the door.
     
    CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
    The Locker
    Mav went down a few blocks, then crossed the street of the tiny downtown area and stood on the sidewalk, staring at her own reflection in the glass of the bus station’s entrance. She reached forward to grab the handle but pulled her hand back as though afraid it might be hot to the touch. The door burst open and a man popped out, nearly knocking into her.
    “Oh, excuse me,” said the man, shuffling past.
    Mav gripped her purse and pulled it against her chest. Her breathing was erratic. Calm down. My God, calm down , she thought. Mav paused a moment, then went inside and scanned the wide-open area looking for any signs of irregularity. She’d never been inside, and the terminal was larger than she thought. The floor was a gray-colored tile, polished to a fine shine. Brilliant light shone off it from the long glass wall on the opposite side. She spotted the rows of rental lockers and walked in hesitation towards them. When she saw the metal nameplate that said 2289, she froze in her tracks. It was as if she was afraid a rattlesnake might be inside. She checked and rechecked the number on her key. It was correct, and after a few final glances over her shoulder, she unlocked the locker.
    Inside was a long, white paperboard box, the kind she’d seen a hundred times before at the department store. Mav pried open the front, and peered inside. When she fully removed the top, laying there was a set of blue-green surgical scrubs, a surgical cap, booties for shoes, a stethoscope, and one hospital identification card. Each garment was pressed into fine creases, and placed inside the box with the precision of a military footlocker about to undergo inspection.
    “Holy shit, it’s him. It’s really him. He did visit me in the hospital.” Mav’s heart fluttered. “Now what?” A cellphone rang and Mav reached into her purse to pull hers out. But once she looked at the screen, she realized she’d turned it off as instructed. The sound was coming from inside the locker—a phone was buried underneath the surgical scrubs.
    “Hello?” she said in a timid voice.
    “In the box you’ll find a bus ticket.” The husky voice was familiar, like something out of a dream. “Board the bus and sit in the second to last back row. Do it now.”
    The call ended.
    Mav was frightened but the more she thought about it, the more she determined herself she was doing the right thing. The voice; the voice was so calming and familiar. It was him, and Mav knew it. She made for the other side of the terminal and went out the glass doors. She was sure of two things; this person meant her no harm, and she was headed into utter uncertainty.
     
    CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
    Stitching the Soul
    The bus was at least three quarters full as she stepped aboard. The driver held out his hand. “This is bus number 277 to Galveston.”
    “Yes, thank you.”
    Mav studied each face as she shuffled down the thin aisle, looking for anything familiar. The smell was a cross between a high school locker room and stale beer. As she took her seat the bus driver called out onto the platform. “Number 277, Galveston. Departs in one minute.” Mav began to worry. Perhaps he wasn’t coming. As the bus engine started and began to pull out, her heart sank. But ten minutes later, a husky voice from behind whispered to her. It came from in between her seat and the empty one next to her.
    “Don’t turn around. Just keep looking forward. You’re safe. No one followed you aboard, but we can’t be sure no one is following the bus. In about an hour, the bus will make a scheduled stop at Damon, Texas. There’s a Waffle