by Karen Olson
Those cars were in and out again before I was even born.
Jeff Coleman, however, was about ten years older than me, if I could hazard a guess, and he probably had some sort of nostalgic warm feeling about this funny-looking car with a long snout and a back end that looked like it had its tail chopped off.
Whose car is this? I asked as Jeff opened the passenger door for me. Chivalrous. Who knew?
I had to wait until he got into the drivers seat before he said, Its my mothers.
This made sense. Somehow I could see how this cars quirkiness would appeal to someone like Sylvia. A vintage car for a vintage woman.
Are you really taking me to Tim? I asked.
Im taking you home. If he happens to be there, then I guess, yeah, Im taking you to Tim.
Home. Immediately I thought about my queen-sized bed with the fluffy white cotton sheets. Now I wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers and sleep for about three days. I felt like Id been up for a month. And that vodka Id had at Chez Tango had made me sleepy without my even realizing it.
Sorry about your tires, I said.
What did you do?
Hey, I didnt do it, I argued.
No, I know that, he said, taking a cigarette out of his breast pocket and sticking it in his mouth.
Can you not smoke in here? I asked.
He gave me a quick glance before looking back at the road again. He kept the cigarette in his mouth but didnt light it. Security blanket, I guess.
I mean, he said, the cigarette wobbling between his lips, what did you get into that someone had to slash my tires?
I sighed. There had been so much all day that it couldve been any number of things. And for some reason, my brain settled on Frank DeBurra. Maybe hed found me after all and was mad Id ducked out on him at the hospital.
No, he didnt know to look for a gold Pontiac.
He certainly didnt know to look for a purple Gremlin.
Why the heck would a car company call a car a Gremlin?
Earth to Kavanaugh, Jeff was saying.
Oh, yeah, sorry. Im a little tired.
I saw his hand twitch on the steering wheel, like he wanted to maybe reach out and touch me but stopped himself in time.
I studied his profile. Even though he was a couple inches shorter than me and possibly way too old, he wasnt a bad-looking guy if you looked close enough. The salt-and-pepper buzz cut made him look a little military. Hmmm.
Were you in the army? I asked.
His expression changed slightly; he clenched his jaw and his eyes narrowed, but he kept staring straight ahead at the road.
Marines, he said, so softly I had to lean over to hear him. Gulf War.
Suddenly this was way too much information.
I found fifty thousand dollars in Trevor McKays boots, I volunteered, eager to change the subject.
Jeff slammed on the brakes, and my body jerked forward, only to be jerked back again by the seat belt.
Hey! I said, clutching the dashboard.
He pointed up. Red light. Sorry. So what was this? Fifty thousand dollars? Boots? Kavanaugh, its no wonder someones trying to ground you. Wheres the money now?
I left it there.
He did look at me now, with an expression of such incredulity that I started to laugh. You should see yourself, I said.
His face didnt change. You left fifty thousand dollars in some guys boots in his apartment? And hes dead? And you found a dead guy this morning? And my tires got slashed? What else?
I managed to ease down to a couple of chuckles. What else? What do you mean, what else?
Ive never known anyone who had more things happen to her than you, Kavanaugh.
Why do you always call me Kavanaugh? I asked.
He just shook his head and put his foot on the accelerator, and the car shot forward, forcing me this time against the seat back.
Watch it!
Where does this guy live? Jeff asked casually. Too casually.
I knew what he was up to.
We dont have a key. Kyles got it, and hes all MissTiqued up at Chez Tango right about now.
Do we need a key?
It was the way he said it that made me take notice. Like he didnt need a key. I was exhausted and wanted to go home in the worst way, but at the same time curious about what he had in mind. I wasnt eager, either, to face Tims wrath. Or possibly find Frank DeBurra parked on my doorstep.
So I told him where Trevor lived.
It was late afternoon and the sun had started to fall, casting a glare across the windshield and causing me to squint. I wished I had my sunglasses, but they were in my bag somewhere with the police. I flipped down the visor, but the rays peeked underneath.
Jeff and I settled into a companionable silence on the way. I was running over all the days events; I had no idea what Jeff was thinking. I wasnt sure I wanted to know.
I indicated the apartment complex. Jeff pulled into the lot and eased the Gremlin into a visitors space.
On the way up to the apartment, I stopped suddenly.
What? Jeff asked.
I left Trevors laptop in the Pontiac, I said. That was stupid.
Well just stop and get it on the way back, Jeff said. How could he be so calm and levelheaded?
We reached the door and Jeff tried the knob. Locked, as Id said.
Kavanaugh, you might want to turn around for this, he said, reaching into his back pocket.
He was right. I didnt want to see what he was going to do. I stepped away from the door and leaned my back against the wall just to the left of it, eyeing the Gremlin in the lot. It really was an ugly car, and it had been a rather bumpy ride. The Pontiac was much smoother. But then again, it wasnt half a car.
I was so distracted by the Gremlin that when I heard it, I didnt recognize it for what it was, and all of a sudden Jeff Coleman was on top of me, forcing us both to the ground, his arms around me, my head shoved against his neck.
The second gunshot registered.
Chapter 35
I could feel Jeffs heartbeat against my chest, going in synch with mine. My face was smothered, and he smelled like cigarettes and ink and baby wipes. Comfort smells.
And then I felt his hand in a place where I never wanted Jeff Colemans hand to be.
I tried to shrug him off, but his grip grew tighter.
Theyre shooting at us from inside the apartment, he whispered, his breath tickling the side of my face.
Who?
This is your movie, Kavanaugh, not mine. You tell me.
I had a flash of Rusty Abbotts warning that accidents happen.
But an accident is falling off a ladder, getting hit with a baseball, having a fender bender.
Its not being shot at outside a dead drag queens apartment.
At least not in my world.
We have to get out of here. Jeff was still whispering.
How? I was afraid if we got up, theyd start shooting again.
Before he could answer, however, we heard the sirens. One of the neighbors probably had heard the shots and called the cops. Of course, whoever it was didnt feel compelled to come outside and see what was going on.
Two police cruisers rolled into my line of vision. We were just one story up, and I could see them between the slats in the railing overlooking the parking lot. They stopped just below us. Right in front of the Gremlin. That wouldnt do.
Another shot rang out, and while Jeff had loosened his grip a second ago, he now clutched me again. But I wasnt caring much at the moment. I didnt want to be in the middle of a firefight.
You up there!
It took a second for me to realize one of the cops was shouting up at us.
Get out of the way!
Right. Like that would be eas
y. Didnt he think wed be out of the way if we could? And I didnt much like it that he was alerting those inside the apartment that we were out here, huddled on the ground.
Jeff started shimmying a little away from the apartment door. I had no choice but to shimmy along with him.
It was awkward. I was on my back, Jeff on top of me, and my movements were crablike, while his were similar to a crawl.
It took us ages to move about six inches. We were closer to the railing now, and I could see the cops barricading themselves behind their cruiser doors. One of them had a bullhorn.
Police! Surrender!
It was a little like when the wicked witch told Dorothy to surrender by writing it in the sky. It had the same effect, anyway. Nothing.
At least theyd stopped shooting.
Jeff slid off me onto his stomach next to me. I rolled onto my stomach, too, and we watched through the railing as two of the uniforms dashed out from behind their doors and toward the building. We waited for more shots, but none came.
I pulled myself up onto all fours, rocked back onto my heels, and slowly stood, backing up as I did. Jeff was mimicking me.
There was another stairway just a few doors down. We backed up until we reached it, then ran down the stairs two at a time. My heart was pounding again as we reached the bottom, which led into the pool area.
I took a couple of deep breaths, leaning over and putting my hands on my knees. I felt a hand massaging my back.
You okay, Kavanaugh?
I nodded and looked up to see Jeff staring at me with a worried expression.
This was a bad idea, I said. I told you we shouldnt come here.
He stepped back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Okay, so it was a bad call. But who knew?
I was about to give him a smart-aleck comment back when movement to my left caught my eye.
Someone was lowering himself off the corner balcony. He wore a backpack and a baseball cap.
What the, Jeff muttered.
The guy dropped to the ground, rolled over, and landed on his feet in a total James Bond way. The cap had come off, and I saw dark hair, a raised hand like a wave hello.
I took a step on instinct, but he shot off like the Road Runner being chased by Wile E. Coyote.
Jeff was already shouting at the cops.
I was speechless. Because Id recognized him.
But it wasnt a him.
It was Charlotte.
Chapter 36
I didnt wait around to explain; I just ran after Charlotte. My sandals gripped the pavement as I ran across the pool deck, leaping over the diving board. The latch in the fence kept me busy long enough for Jeff to come panting up beside me.
You should lay off those butts, I admonished just as the latch let go and the door swung open. I went through, Jeff on my heels.
But when we got to the other side of the fence, we didnt see anyone except a group of teenagers loping along the sidewalk. Cars whizzed past on the main road, their engines muffling the sound of the fountain in the center of the courtyard.
I turned to Jeff.
It was Charlotte, I said softly. Thats who came over the balcony.
I looked behind me to see whether any of the cops had come out after us, had seen Charlotte, too, but nothing.
Until another gunshot rang out.
Jeff and I looked at each other. I had been pretty certain that Charlotte was the one doing the shooting, and from the look on Jeffs face, hed thought so, too. There was no other reason why she would have made such a dramatic escape from the apartment building. Was there?
Someone else was in there with her, Jeff said.
I nodded. Yeah. But who?
We started back through the pool area again and saw cops taking the steps two at a time, their guns drawn.
Jeff took hold of my upper arm. I think we should stay where we are, he said.
Sounds fine with me, I said, noting that he did not let go of my arm. I made a point of looking at his hand and then looking at his face. Do you mind? I asked.
He pulled his hand away and rummaged in his breast pocket for his pack of cigarettes. He took it out, and I laughed. It looked as though it had been run over by a steamroller.
Maybe someones telling you something, I said.
He managed to get a cigarette out of the pack and used his thumb and first finger to try to round it out. He did a fairly good job of it, and then he stuck it in his mouth, using a lighter he took from his jeans pocket to light it.
He sucked on the cigarette, took it out of his mouth, and let out a long cloud of smoke.
I coughed.
You one of those reformed smokers, Kavanaugh? he said.
I shook my head. Never smoked a cigarette in my life, I said.
Why am I not surprised? he said.
We could hear banging on a door and shouting not very far away.
What do we tell the cops about your employee? Jeff asked after taking another hit off his butt.
Im not sure shes still my employee, I admitted. Id pretty much had it up to here with Charlotte Sampson. She was up to something, something that may have gotten her friend Trevor killed and something that definitely got Wesley Lambert killed. And now she was in Trevors apartment, with all that cash, with someone who was shooting at us, at the police.
I just hoped it wasnt Ace.
The minute I thought that, I stiffened. What if it was Ace?
Do you have a cell phone on you? I asked Jeff.
More shouting from above, and now the sound of wood splintering. The cops must be breaking the door down.
Jeffs gaze was somewhere off behind me, and I realized he was checking whether someone else was going to be coming down that balcony route, like Charlotte had. He didnt tear his eyes away even while he dug into his pocket and produced a cell phone. He handed it to me.
Thanks, I said, punching in the number of the shop.
The Painted Lady. I had never been so happy to hear Bitsys voice as I was that minute.
Bits, its Brett.
Where are you?
That doesnt matter right now, but what does is where Ace is.
Ace is here, Bitsy said, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Do you want to talk to him?
Yeah, I do.
A few seconds passed; then I heard, Brett?
Ace, whats Charlotte up to?
What do you mean? His tone was defensive, almost icy.
Im at Trevors apartment building, and she just shimmied down off a back balcony here like she was Spider-Man. This was after I got shot at from inside Trevors apartment.
Hold on, Brett, what are you talking about? He sounded genuinely confused. I was glad to hear it.
Charlotte, your main squeeze, is involved with something that doesnt seem good for her health or for mine. Where is she hiding out?
I . . . uh . . . I dont know. Really, Brett, I dont. She wont answer my calls; shes not at her place. Bitsy told me what went down this morning at that guys condo. Im worried about her.
Thats nice, Ace, but I think we all should have maybe listened a little more to that cop who told me she could be in some sort of danger because of her association with Wesley Lambert. Because you know what? She was, and is, but shes also up to something herself.
Brett? Jeffs whisper was hurried. My back was to him, and as I turned around to see what he wanted, a hand came down on mine, the one holding the phone.
But it wasnt Jeff now.
It was Frank DeBurra. And as he wrenched the phone out of my hand and closed it, he said, Miss Kavanaugh, I think we have to have a little chat.
Chapter 37
I looked to Jeff for support, but he just shrugged.
DeBurra nodded. And your friend, here, is coming with us, too.
Hey, Im j
ust along for the ride, Jeff said as he tossed his cigarette down and ground it with the heel of his cowboy boot.
We wouldnt be here now if it werent for you, I hissed.
Isnt this sweet? A lovers quarrel. DeBurra chuckled.
All the muscles in my body tensed up, and I glared at him.
Youve got no reason to be angry with me, DeBurra said. But I have all the reason to be angry with you. Maybe if youd stuck around in the hospital and answered my questions, all of thishe indicated the apartment housenever wouldve happened.
So its my fault I got shot at? I barked.
Brett, calm down, Jeff said softly.
I shot him a look. Easy for him to say.
Youd better listen to your boyfriend, DeBurra said. Its going to be a long night.
At that moment I realized I wasnt going home. I wasnt going to sleep in my comfy bed. I wasnt going to be able to relax.
I was going to be stuck with DeBurra and Jeff Coleman all night.
Hes not my boyfriend, I said, although my gumption was gone.
DeBurra noticed. Okay, fine. Lets go. He herded us out of the pool area, and now we could see the police cruisers and cops milling around.
Who was it? I asked. Who was shooting?
DeBurra took a deep breath. He got out the balcony. Someone downstairs said he saw a guy jumping from balcony to balcony and took off.
But what about that last shot? The apartment couldnt have been empty then.
Jeffs nudge was too late. Id spoken too soon.
DeBurra stopped and stared me down. What do you mean?
It was time to tell the truth. We saw it, I said. Thats why we ran out to the front courtyard. We saw her drop to the ground and take off. But I dont know where she went.
She?
It was Charlotte. Charlotte Sampson. But after she ran off, we heard another shot from up there. So she couldnt have been alone.
DeBurra rubbed his jaw thoughtfully and nodded, but he didnt volunteer any information. All he said was, If youd talked to me earlier, maybe we couldve found her.
I really havent known where shes been hiding, I insisted, then added, At least we know shes not sick.