Sleight of Hand by Robin Hathaway Page B

the apartment, but he didn’t find Regina. He knew me, however, and as he left, he said, ‘If we don’t find her, we’ll arrest you. You probably put her up to it anyway.’
    â€œTwo days later, the victim—Jane Lansing—died.”
    â€œOh no!” I said.
    â€œI went to the biggest newsstand in New York City—the one at Grand Central that has all the out-of-town papers. I bought some
papers from small towns in upper New York State, northern Pennsylvania, and southern New Jersey. A south Jersey town won out. I spotted an old farmhouse for rent in the classifieds, at a sum we could afford. Afraid the apartment was being watched, I packed Regina and Lolly up and sent them down the fire escape to the bus terminal, where they caught a bus to Bayfield. Soon after, I took a circuitous route, changing subways, taking cabs, NJ Transit, and finally a bus to join them. Apparently, we outwitted the law.
    â€œThe money I’d saved for printing equipment came in handy. I set up shop in the barn and started my own mail-order printing business: Barnhouse Press. The press was in the barn, but the camera and computer were in the house. The business was completely anonymous. I didn’t have to deal with anyone personally. Regina took care of the bookkeeping and occasional personal contacts. There was a warrant out for her arrest in New York, but she had no police record and wasn’t in the national FBI database. The risk of anyone spotting her in such a remote part of New Jersey was minimal.
    â€œFor a while, things went pretty well. Regina was grateful to me for getting her out of the jam and tried to make a go of it. She was even nice to Lolly. The only bad part was, I had to keep a low profile. I had to be almost invisible. But then, I had been a magician. Invisibility was sort of second nature. But as the years rolled on, Regina became restless. She was not made for small-town life. She missed the city—the lights, the traffic, the crowds, all the excitement. One morning, I woke up and she was gone. She’d left a note: ‘Sorry, Max. I can’t take it anymore. I’m going back to the city. You don’t need to know which one. Good luck. R.’
    â€œI was devastated. I loved her, you see. I thought of trying to trace her. And I would’ve, too, if it hadn’t been for Lolly. I couldn’t risk it. If I was caught and had to go to prison for Regina’s crime, who would take care of the kid? She was only fourteen at the time. I always hoped Regina would come back, but she never did. That day you came into the barn, for a split second I thought you were
Regina. You are the same height and build. The light was behind you and I couldn’t see your face, only your silhouette. When I realized you weren’t Regina, I caught my hand in the press. End of story.”
    He closed his eyes again.
    â€œAre you okay?” I asked.
    He shrugged.
    â€œWhy don’t you take a nap. I have calls to make. But I’ll stop back later tonight.”
    Eyes still closed, he nodded.

CHAPTER 20
    I spent a restless night. Bits and pieces of Max’s story kept turning up in my dreams, along with a heavy feeling of sadness over his and Lolly’s plight. What a terrible way to live, hiding out like fugitives, in constant fear of being discovered by the police. And he wasn’t even guilty! At one point, I got up in the middle of the night and turned on my laptop. I searched the Internet for Regina via her maiden and married names—Cox and Rawlings. There was nothing under Cox, but Rawlings brought up a slew of stuff about “Amazing Max the Magician” and “his beautiful partner, Regina.” All this ended abruptly the year Max went to prison. After that, there was nothing. Nada. I shut down and went back to bed, falling into a fitful sleep.
    I woke up feeling more tired than when I’d gone to bed. I dragged through my daily routine with the