Page 63 of Guess Again

Nekoosa, Wisconsin Sunday, August 3, 2025

AFTER THE NECESSARY GAS STOPS AND A FOUR-HOUR NAP AT A TRUCK stop, she arrived back in Wisconsin at 10:00 p.m.

on Sunday night.

She followed her Range Rover’s GPS past Boscobel and turned onto Wisconsin Highway 58 north of Ithaca.

There, she found a lonely stretch of road just past a bend in the highway.

She steered the Range Rover onto the shoulder and continued onto the grassy embankment until she pulled into the foliage that flanked the highway. She grabbed the bag of fast food off the passenger’s seat and exited the vehicle on stiff and aching legs. She discarded the diaper in the woods and limped back to the road. Surveying her work, she was satisfied that the Range Rover was hidden well enough.

She walked two miles to a gas station and called an Uber for a ride back to the house in Nekoosa.

She paid the driver and walked up the driveway.

She looked down the street, but the unmarked cruiser was gone.

Special Agent Kramer had never watched Eugenia’s house overnight.

He usually showed up in the mornings to poke around and keep tabs on her, but by mid-morning tomorrow she’d be long gone.

It was just before midnight when she punched the code to open the garage door. She stepped inside and saw the Ford Focus parked in the second bay. She allowed the feeling of satisfaction to course through her body. But only for a moment. There was still much to do.

She dropped the car keys into the bowl on the kitchen table and opened the door to the basement, slowly descending the stairs and making sure nothing was out of order.

In her hand was the grease-stained fast food bag, whose contents had long since run cold.

The journey to the southern border had taken more than two days, and she knew the woman would be starved.

She needed her to be calm and docile in a few hours, and the sedatives in the food would assure as much.

When she reached the basement landing she headed to the door and peeked into the room.

The woman was lying on the bed, shackles attached to her wrists and ankles.

She threw the bag of food into the room and then hurried up the steps to bed.

Francis had insisted she find time for sleep so that she was as fresh as possible when he needed her most.

Perhaps it was because the end was so near, or because her new life was about to start.

Whatever the reason, when her head of jet-black hair hit the pillow, she fell fast asleep and dreamt of Francis during her slumber.

Months of planning had shrunk to weeks.

Weeks to days.

And now mere hours stood in the way of their new beginning together.