The train rolled into New Haven before we had even time to gather our wits and agree on a plan. We burst through the doors the moment they opened, and then stood around confused and wary on the platform.
“So what do we do now?” I said.
“We need tickets for the Metronorth,” said Ellen. I was glad that at least one of us was capable of thinking clearly. “Two legs. West back to Bridgeport and then north up to Naugatuck. Grams’ house is a short walk from the station.”
My eyes flitted between every person on this platform and the next, looking for signs of Sergei’s watchers. My train station phobia had already kicked in big time, palms sweaty, heart racing.
Ellen was already waiting by a stairwell. “Come on, you guys. We need to go out to the lobby for tickets.”
So we followed her downstairs and through a tunnel that led beneath the tracks. As we came back up into the lobby, I paused before we reached the top.
“Hang on,” I said, holding up my palm. “Let me scope out the room.”
Ellen and Urszula waited several steps down while I peered over the top step and checked things out. The lobby wasn’t exactly crowded, but it was certainly busy. It was kind of late for commuters so the clientele were skewed towards retirees and students, some probably headed to Manhattan for shopping, Broadway shows and stuff like that, I supposed.
No one paid any attention to us, except for some blonde girl standing near the doorway with a cup of Starbucks, who was staring at the stairwell. She was way too young and nicely dressed to trigger any worries, not quite the type who would have anything to do with Sergei’s racket. She was probably just waiting for a friend.
“Let’s go get some tickets,” I said, nodding to my girls.
As we came around a column here was a kid standing there I hadn’t seen from the stairs. In his early twenties, he wore ripped jeans, and a knit cap even though it was like seventy out. His piercing eyes met mine as he slipped out his iPhone.
I stopped in my tracks. Something about this guy reminded me of the thugs who had come after me at that train station in Inverness. He acted a little too interested in us. I mean, he couldn’t stop staring. I had to admit, we must have looked pretty strange between my mud-smeared clothes and Urszula’s ultra-baggy sweat pants, but his gaze dwelled on us a little too long for comfort.
“What is wrong?” said Urszula. “Why are we standing here looking at this man?”
“He … was looking at us.”
“Oh? I’ll fix that.” Urszula clenched her jaw and marched up to the guy. “What are you staring at, worm?”
“Huh?” said the guy. “I … uh … I wasn’t.”
“Keep your eyes on your own business! Yes?”
“Sorry, I … I didn’t mean ….”
Urszula gave him a good shove and stalked back to us.
“Jesus!” said Ellen. “Not everyone is out to get us, you guys. I think you two need to cool it.”
“Doesn’t hurt to be vigilant,” I said.
“That isn’t vigilance. It’s paranoia.” She walked past me and claimed a spot in the ticket queue.
“Listen, you’re gonna have to trust me. I’ve been running for months. Pittsburgh, DC, Rome, Paris, the UK. Sergei’s got people after us. Not just his people. He’s got a whole network. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a price on our head.”
