“WE’RE WHAT?” SHIRLEY BLINKED.
“Sean’s murder. It’s clever. Think about it.”
She shook her head. Her adrenaline had to still be pumping from the foreplay and then the escape. I knew mine was. We needed to sit down and think clearly, and I was hungry.
She didn’t say anything. Just stared off at the buildings, trying to process.
“Why me, though? Wouldn’t they just make you a suspect?”
“They benched you. They know you’re helping me instead of keeping an eye on me. C’mon, Shirley. It’s the easiest way to keep you away from the case.”
She took another few seconds to stare off in the distance. I needed to distract her and get us moving.
“Restaurants, Shirley? There has to be a strip of places to eat.”
It seemed to work, because she turned to face me. “Blue Dome.”
“Come again?”
“It’s a district. Not far. Lots of places to eat around there.”
“Any of them have a rooftop bar or a good spot for surveillance?”
She nodded. “El Guapo’s. It’s a Mexican place.”
“How far?”
“Five or six blocks.”
“Take us there.”
We continued north on Houston, trekking down toward the BOK Center. We stayed north of the detective’s division building, made a right on 3rd, and walked past a place that said Cox Business Center. It was a large rectangular box with glass walls. The Mid-Continent tower and a few others I didn’t know the names of grew in our field of vision.
“What are those buildings?”
We walked along at a normal pace and hugged tight to the umbra of the skyscrapers.
Shirley glanced up at me. “What?”
“I like skylines. What’s the story behind them?”
We kept walking as she spoke. “Uhh, the tall one is the BOK tower. It was called the Williams Center for a long time when I was a kid. It had an ice-skating rink and my dad would take me and my sister there. It was designed by the people who did the World Trade Center towers. It’s actually a smaller replica of them, like one-quarter scale, I think. It was the tallest building in Oklahoma until a few years ago. They built a bigger one in Oklahoma City.”
“You guys compete with them for attention? And what’s BOK stand for? Do they own everything?”
She shrugged. “Not really. More like sister cities. It’s nice there. And it’s Bank of Oklahoma.”
“Figures, banks owning everything. And I like it here.”
“Really? Why?”
I stared down at her. “The view.”
She looked away and shook her head. If I were a betting man, I’d bet she blushed.
“We’re being chased by the police, and you’re flirting.”
“Is there a better time? And remind me that Provost owes me a hundred bucks for the hotel room.”
We came to a stoplight at 3rd and Frisco. The BOK Center was across the street to our left. It was even bigger than it’d looked. I’d have bet they booked some large-scale concerts there, big names. The main post office was on our right. Another huge brown block of a building stood on the corner.
“So, are you just going to take on the whole city? What is your plan here?”
“Do what needs to be done. For Sean.” I stopped and turned her toward me by the shoulders. “He didn’t kill himself.”
“I believe you or I wouldn’t be here.”
“Okay.”
We started down 3rd Street again when the light changed. The buildings grew massive next to us and floated by overhead the way they had when I’d stepped off the bus. We passed a few more streets that were all names of cities in America: Boston, Cincinnati. Then I recognized Detroit. I’d walked right through the area from the bus stop and passed through the intersection, only heading south. We went straight and made a left on a street called Elgin. Then I realized why it was called the Blue Dome District. There was a small, older one-story building with a royal blue dome right on top of it.
We walked up two blocks to 1st and Elgin. El Guapo’s sat on the southwest corner. It was a yellow-brick structure with a mural of a rooster and calligraphic font that read EL GUAPO’S CANTINA on it. I gave the place a once over. It had a rooftop bar, and a white external staircase that looked like a fire exit hugged the side of the building. The platform ended in the middle of the building about eight feet off the ground. There were two ways to exit from the top—one inside, one outside. The restaurant sat on the corner to provide a view of both cross streets. It was perfect. Shirley did well. I’d have to reward her later when we resumed our amorous activities.
We walked in, and a hostess took us up to the rooftop. There were quite a few people. It was nearing 8:30 and it seemed the people of Tulsa liked to drink. Everyone had large margaritas on their table or frosted pints of draft beer. The smell of car exhaust mixed with the sizzling fajitas. Waiters carried trays of chips and salsa around. Some of the margaritas had bottles of Corona flipped upside down in them. I thought I’d heard someone tell me once not to mix liquor and beer, but who was I to judge? I didn’t drink alcohol very often.
“Can we have that table?” I pointed to a corner.
The hostess huffed and gave me a look that said really? It was a table for six and there were only two of us, but it had a perfect vantage point.
“We’ll leave a big tip.”
She gripped the menus a little tighter and led us past a few two tops to the larger table.
“You may have to pony up some cash.”
Shirley looked up at me. “I have to pay for dinner too? Some date, Savage.”
I hooked a hand around her waist and pulled her next to me. Her eyelashes did the flutter thing again.
“I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”
We both took a seat. I set the laptop down. A waiter brought us chips and two different kinds of salsa at once.
“So, what’s happening?”
I shoveled a chip into my mouth and crunched it in my teeth. I liked to eat.
“Easy. They charged us with Sean’s murder.”
“But why?”
“Think about it. I came looking. Poking around. They didn’t like that. Couldn’t say anything. Case was closed.”
“So now it’s opened.”
“Yeah. And if they broadcast it, the whole city will do the search work for them.”
“Jesus.” She leaned back. Her lungs deflated like the life had just been taken out of her.
“And our prints are all over his place. I have his laptop and his gun.”
“Technically, that stuff is yours. You inherited it.”
I smirked. “C’mon, Shirley. You think that matters right now?”
She shook her head. “No, they can lock us up. And by the time we get a lawyer and go through everything to clear our names they’ll have cleaned up whatever they’re doing and changed their operation.”
“Exactly. It’ll be ten times harder to pin their asses to the wall. This is just an attempt to get us off the streets and out of their hair.”
Shirley chewed on a nail. I watched it hit her all at once. It happens to everyone when the adrenaline crashes and reality sets in.
“This is going to be on my record. It’s going to follow me forever in a file. I’ll never escape it.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her pocket buzzed.
“What’s that?”
“My phone.” She pulled it out.
I stared at it when she hauled it up to her face, then grabbed it away from her and hung it up.
“What the hell, Savage?”
I leaned over the wall and looked down the streets. Sure enough, two police cruisers were heading up the road, no lights, no sirens.
“They tracked it.”
“I have a lot of information in that phone.”
“Doesn’t it back up somewhere?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Point is they’ll find us if we carry it around. We ne
ed to leave.”
We both stood up from the table. I grabbed the laptop. Shirley slid a five-dollar bill halfway under the chip basket.
We walked through the restaurant and I tossed the phone in a trash can, then we went back down the large wooden staircase. Just as we stepped onto the first floor, four police officers walked through the door. We all froze and stared at each other.
23
“HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD!” ALL four of them had their guns drawn. All four guns were trained on us. There were civilians everywhere. The place was crowded, and everyone stilled.
I knew from the start they weren’t going to fire.
“Well this is awkward.” I craned my neck around to survey the possibilities.
Shirley raised her hands along with everyone else. I stood there.
“We said hands up where we can see them!”
I shook my head. “You guys made a critical mistake just now.”
The four of them inched toward the two of us. The guy in front leading the way said, “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“You came between me and my food.” I snagged Shirley by the bicep and we took off back up the steps.
“Freeze! Freeze! I said freeze!”
“Shoot us in the back.”
Shirley yanked her arm from my hand. “What the hell are you doing?”
“They’re not going to shoot us.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Sure I do. What kind of shoes are you wearing?”
“What?”
We ran up the stairs. People moved out of the way and the officers followed with caution.
“What kind?”
“Just tennis shoes.”
“Good.”
I had Shirley go up the stairs in front of me in case one of them did get crazy and fire a shot.
“Turn left.”
She did.
When I hit the top of the stairs, I grabbed a table for two that was empty and slung it down the stairs. “Fire escape. Now!”
I was on her heels. She bolted for the metal stairs affixed to the building and I followed her out onto it. We ran down the steps and along the side of the building on the rickety platform. She got to the end of it and looked down. It was about an eight-foot drop. I scooped her up with my free arm and leaned over the edge. Setting the laptop down, I bent down onto my knees. Her forearms slid through my hands until our fingers locked. She dangled a few feet from the ground, and I dropped her.
She landed on her feet. No problem.
I stood. The four cops were about to make their way onto the thin metal.
“Wouldn’t do that if I were you. Weight limit.” I shimmied my feet back and forth to rock it as hard as I could, but I tried to make it look like I barely made any effort at all. The metal creaked and jolted back and forth.
It froze them just long enough to make them think about it. I bent down and sat on the edge of the scaffolding, grabbed the bottom of the railing with my free hand, scooped the laptop in the other, and bailed over the side. Both my feet landed on the sidewalk with a dull thud. “Run!”
We both bolted across the street. I glanced to my rear as the cops hustled back through the restaurant. When I turned around, two more police officers rounded a corner on foot toward El Guapo’s.
Their eyes were four huge white orbs when they saw us running right at them. They reached for their weapons, but it was too late. They were lined up in a row. I had the laptop under my left arm. I took my right hand and stiff-armed one officer straight into the other with the heel of my palm. Force equals mass times acceleration. I drove straight up into the first guy’s sternum, letting my legs do all the work, and shoved off my back foot. It launched them both up at an angle and the last one stumbled and fell flat on his back. The guy I hammered fell straight on top of him.
I may have cracked the first guy’s breastplate. At the least, he had the wind knocked out of him. Shirley gasped but kept running. We disappeared into an alley and worked our way down a few blocks before we slowed from a sprint.
I grabbed her lightly by the arm and brought her pace down to a walk. Squad cars zoomed up Elgin to the west, red and blue lights dancing around.
Shirley bent over at the waist like she might vomit. Her chest heaved up and down. It wasn’t from fatigue. She was in excellent shape. I figured it was the severity of the situation all crashing down on her at once in the form of neurotransmitters and chemicals pumping through her bloodstream.
“Breathe.”
She shot a middle finger up at me.
“This isn’t good.” I sighed.
She righted herself and shoved me in the chest—hard. “You think!”
“Keep your voice down. I know you’re pissed, but we have to be rational.”
“Easy for you to say. You can disappear when this is all over.” She glared right at me.
She wasn’t wrong. I could’ve disappeared right then if I’d wanted. “We need a car.” To the east was nothing but a highway. North was a group of small buildings that looked abandoned or closed. West was downtown, where we’d just came from. “Hide out over there. Pretend to be a bum or something. I’ll be right back.” I pointed to the side of a building.
Both her hands went to her hips. “A bum? Seriously?”
I shrugged.
“Where are you going?”
I waggled my eyebrows to lighten the mood. “I said we need a car. I’m going to get us one.”
24
I CREPT THROUGH THE SHADOWS toward the lights and buildings with the laptop still tucked under my arm. It was just like hunting. I was back in my element. I’d been on covert anti-terrorism missions all over the world that were far worse than this. I couldn’t blame Shirley for being shaken up, though. She’d kept herself pretty composed for a while given the circumstances.
She was right. She didn’t have the option to just disappear when this was over. She’d be standing in the middle of the collateral damage when the smoke cleared.
I crossed Elgin, headed west on 4th Street, and found a parking garage. More than likely someone had parked there and left their car over the weekend. It wasn’t a high rise. It looked like office suites, not residential. Perfect.
The tides turned in our favor when I found a car tucked back in the corner with a cover over it. There was a good chance it’d been there a while, and a good chance it was fast too. Nobody else was parked even remotely near it, and nobody covers a slow car. I yanked the tarp off. It threw a giant plume of dust everywhere. I coughed for a second and thought I might sneeze.
Once the cloud of dust cleared, my heart thumped against my ribs. It would certainly get us out of there in a hurry. Before me was a cherry-red convertible 1952 Corvette with white scooped-out side panels. It wasn’t ideal and would definitely draw attention, but we would exit in style. Maybe it would be flashy enough no patrol cars would think we’d have the balls to steal it and drive it around. If they did see us in it, what better way to give them the finger and scoff at authority?
Do what they don’t expect.
It wasn’t like we had a ton of options, so I put the laptop back behind the seats and revised the plan in my head. Get out of downtown as fast as possible and abandon the idea of sticking around. We could ditch the car across town and find a hotel that wouldn’t ask many questions, grab some food, and go over Sean’s clues to figure out our next move. I needed the internet to research.
The driver’s side door opened with a click. It didn’t have a top so there was really no reason to lock it.
I bent down and leaned under the steering column, then pressed my back flat against the floorboard and propped my hips up with my feet on the pavement. I removed a panel and pulled the wires loose from the steering column. They taught us how to hot-wire a car during Delta training, but we also had kits. I didn’t have a knife, so I’d have to strip the wires with my teeth. I thought about Shirley sitting there alone in the dark. It’s why I liked to work alone. People slowed me down. She wa
s worth it, though. Not because of her looks, either. She was the full package. The type of woman you could spend the rest of your life with. A girl you take home to meet your family.
I got the wires I wanted and bit down hard on one, stripping the insulation between my front teeth. I spit it onto the floorboard, then did the same with the other.
That’s when a bright flash from a Maglite hit me in the face.
Not good.
I turned toward the cone of light and held a hand up to block it. I had to squint and couldn’t see anything. It could’ve been anyone—the owner, Bear, a cop. The latter was more likely. It was a high-powered beam.
Turned out it was none of the above.
“Freeze right there, Mister!”
I played the words through my mind. It was something a security guard would say. It was almost laughable. I felt bad for the guy. He’d walked up on the wrong thing at the wrong time.
I made my way up to my feet and glared into the beam. “It’s not what it looks like.”
The light moved toward me growing brighter. My eyes adjusted. He clearly had no training, and probably made eight bucks an hour to watch the garage. I guessed it was the most action he’d seen in his life.
“It looks like you’re stealing a Corvette.”
“Well.” I weighed my hands on each side like they were an imaginary scale. “Technically, you’re right.”
“Just stop right there, okay?”
“Go away.” I didn’t have time for this nonsense. I needed him gone.
“I said freeze!”
“Get that out of my face before I shove it up your ass and use your mouth as a spotlight.”
He took the beam off me and pointed it at the wall. His hand trembled and the beam danced around on the concrete. “I don’t want any trouble. Just leave the car alone.”
He couldn’t have been more than twenty-three. He was about 5’8” and probably weighed over three hundred pounds. He had on a generic khaki and dark brown button-down security shirt. His name tag said Brian. He wore a plain dark brown trucker hat with a fishnet back, a pair of brown jeans, and Nikes to round out the ensemble.
The shaky beam on the concrete morphed to a steady blur. I stared down at his hand and it shook violently. He looked one step short of pissing himself. I hated when they did that.
Savage Beast (Max Savage Book 1) Page 11