Where are we going? I put the car in reverse and backed out. The bottom of my foot itched to floor it, but something told me I needed to bide my time, pick my opportunity carefully.
My passengers had the attitude of thugs whod done this drill before. Something told me that there wouldnt be any second chances. It was now or never.
Up ahead, I could see the ramp leading to the top of the parking garage. Patrons of the garage had to go up to the roof to start back down again. I eased the SUV into Drive.
Take the back exit, Mole Face ordered, resting the butt of the revolver on his right knee. He was feeling pretty confident, sure that I was frightened enough to do what he asked.
I shifted my left leg closer to the door and carefully slid my left hand off the wheel, resting it on my thigh. I nodded my head agreeably. Whatever it is that you two want, Ill give it to you as long as you dont hurt me. I put a little extra plaintive pleading into my voice, hoping theyd concentrate on that rather than the fact that my left hand was now resting on the door handle.
Just shut up and drive, the backseat thug said.
I headed for the ramp, bracing my left foot against the frame of the car as I stamped my right foot down on the accelerator. The car engine roared, and the vehicle jumped as if goosed.
Both men fell back against the seats, and the gun flew out of Mole Faces hand, hitting the dashboard. With a grunt, he scrambled to reach it. But the revolver slid to the floor, skittering across the floor and settling beneath my feet.
Slow down! Mole Face shouted.
Its stuck, I said, pretending to pry at the bottom of the gas pedal with my foot but instead stomping on it harder.
Mole Face bumped up against me as he blindly groped along the floorboards for his gun. I ignored him and jammed the accelerator flat to the floor. The engine screamed and we hit the top of the ramp going sixty-five.
Come on! Come on! I chanted inwardly, my fingers gripping the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grasp. I willed the car to go faster.
The engine roared, building up more speed. Seventy. Eighty.
We raced across the top level of the parking garage, directly toward the opposite end and a line of cars.
I aimed for the tiny red sports car and when the SUV hit the back end, it reared up and over the little cars trunk. In seconds, we were airborne.
I yanked open the drivers side door, tucked my chin and threw myself out sideways. Blackness closed in around me as I twirled and spun in midair.
There was a whirlwind of flashing lights and then pain as I struck the pavement with my left shoulder. Lucky for me, my oversize down jacket provided me with some extra protection.
I rolled and then hit something hard but with a little give to it. Pain shot through my entire body and then darkness settled over me.
GROGGY, I blinked and opened my eyes. I was laying up against the rim of a tire. It had broken my fall, probably keeping me from getting seriously hurt.
Cautiously I sat up and looked around. The Escalade had gone over the side. There was nothing left except the smashed sports car with the M.D. plates. Some doc was going to be royally ticked when he came out after a hard nights work to find his little plaything a total wreck. Guess more than just his malpractice insurance would go up this year.
I pulled myself to my feet, grimacing a bit when I moved my left shoulder. Id taken my full weight on it when I fell. It was going to be more than a little sore.
Limping slightly, I walked over to the low wall at the end of the garage and looked over. The Cadillac lay on its side, steam rising up from the engine. After experiencing the speed that monster vehicle had mustered in such a short time, I figured I needed to consider buying one when I won the lottery someday. Nice wheels.
No one moved inside the SUV. If Mole Face and Biceps were still alive, they didnt appear to be in any condition to climb out. Unfortunate for them, but lucky for me. Charlie would be proud. I had managed not to get myself moved to a new location.
A motorcycles engine echoed inside the parking garage, tearing upwards toward the top floor. I glanced around, suddenly desperate to disappear. I didnt want to have to answer any questions, and I didnt have any doubts as to who was riding the bike.
Sure enough, a few seconds later, Jack skidded to a stop. He yanked off his helmet, jumped off the bike and headed toward me, throwing the helmet over his shoulder. It hit the side of his bike and rolled a few feet away.
He ignored it, his face angry. What the hell is going on?
I shrugged. Someone must have jumped the wall in a misguided attempt to avoid paying their parking fee. I nodded toward the end wall. He sailed right off the side.
Jack walked over to view the mess below. He shot a suspicious glance in my direction. Something tells me youre involved. Wanna come clean?
The two gentlemen in the car thought they had my permission to take me for a ride. I disagreed. I shrugged. So, we parted company on unfriendly terms.
What did they want?
Im not really sure. But they were under the impression that I had something they wanted. A key and a package of some sort.
A few minutes later, the sound of a siren told us the police had arrived. They were crawling all over the SUV below in a matter of minutes.
Youre going to have to make a statement.
I shrugged again, ignoring the nagging pain in my shoulder. Not my fault they took the short ride off the side of the parking garage. They shouldnt have told me to drive while holding a gun on me.
Jack shook his head. He wasnt convinced Id told him everything, but he wasnt in the mood to argue about it right at the moment. Youll make your statement and then youll come with me. No way are you staying alone at Charlies.
I bristled at his commanding, no-nonsense tone. Who the hell was he kidding? His place was not the safest place for me. Not when my traitorous body hummed like a well-oiled machine with every glance from those dark blue eyes of his. Nope, more like his apartment was the most dangerous place on the planet for me.
Before I could open my mouth to argue, he grabbed the extra helmet off the back of his bike and jammed it none too gently on my head. Dont be stubborn. Those men werent playing around. You need a safe place to stay. Ill take you over to Pops place, well pick up Sweetie Pie and then you can sleep at my place tonight. Tomorrow you can make whatever other arrangements you want.
His fingers, warm and infinitely more sexy than my own, worked the straps of the helmet, brushing the soft skin at the underside of my chin.
I clenched my back teeth, my toes curling in the bottom of my boots. God, give me strength to ignore the tingle shooting up the center of my spine.
As hard as it was to admit it, I knew was right. I was tired. We could call a truce for tonight. We were both adults. No reason we couldnt both handle staying in the same apartment for one night. We were strong. Responsible.
Ha! Who was I kidding. It wasnt Jack I was worried about. I was the one whod been living in Upstate New York, where every man seemed to live for his rifle, his snowmobile and Genesee Beer. A good woman was usually the last item on his list of life necessities. Right now, even OBrien was looking too good to pass up, and that thought scared the hell out of me.
A SHORT TIME LATER, my statement having been given to the police, Jack and I were headed down Pine Street on the west side. Overflowing garbage cans lined the streets. One could only hope that the city sanitation department was headed in this direction tomorrow morning, or else the entire west side looked as though it might get buried under a mountain of Glad trash bags and empty pizza boxes.
A SHORT TIME LATER, my statement having been given to the police, Jack and I were headed down Pine Street on the west side. Overflowing garbage cans lined the streets. One could only hope that the city sanitation department was headed in this direction tomorrow morning, or else the entire west side looked as though it might get buried under a mountain of Glad trash bags and empty pizza boxes.
Charlies apartment was in one of the old row houses that lined State Street, one of many elegant old homes that had slowly deteriorated into dilapidated ruins, propped up with plywood and cheap siding.
As financial times had gotten leaner, a lot of the original owners had divided their houses up into multiple dwellings, cramming as many people in as was humanly possible.
Charlie occupied a small one-bedroom apartment on the third floor of one such house. The owners were two elderly Polish ladies, sisters who had probably lived in the neighborhood since its creation. From the age of them, I figured they had both been born in the house.
Jack parked his bike at the curb, turned the front tire in and took off his helmet. He rested the helmet in front of him, balancing himself on two legs, his expression a bit horrified as he surveyed the garbage littered front yard.
I figured from his expression that this was his first visit to Pops new residence. A touch of resentment rumbled in the pit of my stomach, and that little voice in my head reminded me bitterly that it was all his fault Pop lived in such a dump.
I shut the voice off. He and I werent going to make it through the night if I had him roasting on a spit before midnight.
I hopped off and jammed my own helmet on the back of the bike. He followed suit and climbed the rickety steps onto the front porch. He glanced over one broad shoulder. Are you coming? I dont have a key, so we need yours to get in.
I followed him into the front hall, the smell of frying sausages, sauerkraut and onions hit me hard and made my stomach rumble. Memories of dinner at the Orzinskis house swam into my consciousnessClaire standing over the stove, sautéing onions while Charlie read her sections of the evening paper.
I pushed the thought aside. Obviously the PowerBar earlier hadnt been enough. Suddenly, I was starving.
A door to the right swung open and a short, squat woman with pure white hair and a bulldog face peered out. Who are you? she demanded.
Jack smiled that charming, one-sided dimpled grin of his. Evenin, maam. Were here to pick up Charlies cat.
The woman opened the door wider; her expression was suddenly a map of concern. How is Charlie? Edith and I have been beside ourselves with worry about him. We were going to take a bus down to the hospital to see him, but money has been a little tight this month.
Whos out there, Patty? another voice called from inside the apartment.
Its some friends of Charlies here to pick up that insufferable beast of a cat of his. Hes still in the hospital. Gonna be there for a while longer, it seems. She glanced at us for confirmation and Jack nodded.
There was the sound of something thumping on the floorboards of the hall and a tall, skinny woman with gray hair and a sour expression appeared. She leaned heavily on a thick cane. You sure theyre legit? Awful lot of people claiming to be Charlies friends been popping out of the woodwork lately, asking to get into his apartment.
Jack reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, flipping it open to show his badge. Im with the Syracuse Fire Department. Charlies a real good friend of mine. He nodded in my direction. This is Killia
Oh, weve met Killian, the shorter sister said, smiling sweetly in my direction. Sorry, dear, I didnt recognize you in the dark hallway.
She glanced up at the dim bulb. We keep meaning to get stronger lighting out here, what with all the riffraff hanging around the neighborhood and stumbling into entryways without an invite. But somehow we always forget to tell Charlie to do that for us.
She sighed. Charlies been very good to us. He was always willing to do a few chores. Help us out when we needed something done.
Sounds like he wont be helping us again any time soon, Edith grumbled. She turned and thumped back down the hall of her apartment, mumbling under her breath.
The shorter sister smiled apologetically. Youll have to excuse Edith. She really does care about what happens to Charlie. She just isnt the type to show her true feelings.
I nodded but had a strong feeling that if Edith had the opportunity to get anywhere near Charlies bedside, shed whack the soles of his feet with her cane and tell him to get his lazy ass out of bed. No doubt Charlie would be grateful she hadnt scrounged up the extra money to take the bus down to the hospital.
Patty shot a quick glance over one shoulder and then shuffled her swollen, slippered feet out into the hall. She pulled the door shut after her. Sorry for all the questions, but my sister is right. Lots of people been claiming to know Charlie lately. I never knew the man to have so many friends.
What did these friends say they wanted? I asked.
Patty shrugged. A few asked if he was home. A few of the recent ones wanted me to let them into the apartment. She reached up and scratched her powder-white ear. Personally, I cant figure it out. Charlie doesnt have two nickels to rub together. He doesnt have much and I cant say I can believe they stopped by to feed that ugly, disagreeable cat of his.
Did you recognize any of them as visiting here before? I asked.
Pattys bulldog forehead wrinkled even more. Cant remember anyone specific. One fellow had a bad case of pimplesin serious need of a good scrubbing. And his breath wasnt any prettier than his face. Charlie might be poor, but he isnt the type of man to let his personal hygiene go.
The hair on the back of my neck ruffled. Did you let him into the apartment?
Indignation crossed Pattys face. Of course not! What kind of rooming house do you think we run around here? She fluttered her stubby eyelashes in Jacks direction. Of course, if the request comes from one of Syracuses firemen, heroes that they all are, then thats an entirely different story.
I snorted at the description of Jack as a hero, and he shot me a look of exaggerated woundedness. I merely raised an eyebrow and frowned. He might be welcomed eye candy for a little old Polish lady on the west side, but he wasnt fooling me. He sighed and turned back to Patty.
Mind if Killian and I take a look around?
You go right ahead, sir. Just lock up when youre all done. Patty smiled and disappeared back into her apartment.
Jack and I took the worn stairs to the third floor. I could hear muted voices behind the walls of the other apartments we passed and the smell of dinner cooking.
My stomach rumbled loud enough for Jack to shoot me a quick glance. Hungry?
A little.
Well grab some King David takeout on the way home.
My heart squeezed with pain. Our favorite mealMiddle Easternhummus-and-fried-veggie patties on pita bread. We used to set up a picnic in the middle of the bed and chow down like two wild beasts and then roll over and make ourselves hungry all over again.
Im more of a hamburger and French fries type of gal, nowadays, I said stiffly.
Jack shrugged. McDonalds it is, then.