by Sonya Clark
Unable to relax for long, he left the sofa and tossed the ice pack, towel and all, in the kitchen sink. Once settled back at his desk, he logged into his cell phone account and checked the GPS location on the spare. It was turned off, and he was pretty sure he hadn’t done that. He also hadn’t bothered to password protect the damn phone, so she could have easily done it. Cops could still track it but he had no interest in getting them involved, especially when it could mean a charge for filing a false report while already on probation.
The pill was finally kicking in, relieving some of the pain in his chest and everywhere else. Kevin had been in more than his share of fights but this was the worst beating of his life. Throwing a few quick, sloppy punches didn’t prepare a person for fighting off half a dozen or more assailants.
Which brought him back to the question – how had the Ghost been able to do it? Why did she even bother? The questions circled in his head, a pair of songs on repeat.
She’d probably dumped the phone right away. Smashed it to pieces and left it in alley somewhere in Cabrini. But it wouldn’t hurt to try calling. He picked up his little-used landline and punched in the number.
***
The stolen phone in Dani’s pocket buzzed with an incoming call. She ignored it and huddled into a tighter ball. A steady rain pattered outside a broken window of the abandoned building she was crashing in tonight. She pulled her hoodie around her tighter to ward off the damp chill.
Six dollars and change was all she had left. Going back to the shelter was out. She couldn’t risk encountering that guy again. The best thing to do was leave town but she needed money to do that.
No answers presented themselves. Tired and hungry, all she wanted to do was sleep but she was too nervous to do more than doze. She’d already had to leave one building tonight to avoid trouble. If one person could video her, another just as easily could. She couldn’t risk something like that getting posted online.
They would find her. The longer she stayed in Point Sable, the more likely it was that would happen.
Just enough money to get out of town, as far away as possible. Beyond disappearing, she had no plan. No wish, other than a good meal and a safe place to sleep. No hope for the future, other than to never go back to that lab again.
It was true she’d had friends there. No freedom, but a few friends. The traffickers who’d sold her to the lab’s first director also sold three other girls. One of them didn’t survive that psychotic bastard’s experiments. Dani had never learned all the details but Cassidy’s death had a lot to do with that director being replaced with someone more science-oriented and far less bloodthirsty. For the rest of Dani’s time in the lab, she’d stayed close with the other two girls, Angel and Nicole. Even now she missed them.
The phone buzzed again. She really should ditch the damn thing. She’d already turned off the GPS but she was pretty sure cops could still trace it. The owner would have to have reported it stolen, though, and from what she’d read online earlier it didn’t look like he had.
Kevin Moynihan had foolishly neglected to password protect his phone. Dani discovered that when she turned the GPS off. Then she deleted the video, watching only enough to confirm it was the right one. She’d intended to smash the phone and toss the pieces, but instead she took advantage of the data plan and went online. A news item gleefully identified the phone’s owner, a rich playboy doing court-ordered community service at the shelter. There was no mention of anyone but Thorpe coming to his rescue, so either the guy was too embarrassed to have been helped by a woman to admit it, or…or she didn’t know what.
There was no embarrassment in his face those few seconds they’d stood close. Instead, she’d seen shock, gratitude, and something that might have been curiosity.
Now her own curiosity was up and running. Why didn’t he include her presence in his statement to the police? At least report his phone stolen? He’d taken it out of his car so it was likely a spare – maybe that’s why he didn’t mention it. But that didn’t explain why he’d kept her secret.
Dani took the phone out of her pocket and checked the display. Two missed calls and a voice mail.
Toss the phone, or sell it for cash. That’s what she needed to do. She had no business listening to that voice mail.
She did it anyway.
“Uh. I don’t know if you still have this phone. I assume you probably got rid of it. In case you still have it, and are inclined to check my voice mail, I thought I’d leave a message.”
He paused and she could hear him drinking.
“Thank you for what you did last night. I’ve exchanged punches a few times, one on one, but I’ve never had anything like that happen to me.”
Something about his tone suggested that he wasn’t always so formal when speaking. An undercurrent of nervousness that she found intriguing.
“I don’t think it was a routine mugging. I think it was a gang initiation. The way the older one talked…I think they meant to kill me.” He paused for several seconds. “I mean, I don’t know. I could be wrong. But there were six or eight of them.”
Nine. All with weapons. Kicking him while he was curled up in a ball on the pavement was just a start for them. They were part of a crew so dangerous, other bad guys in the South Side were scared of them. She’d seen them do a lot of damage in her short time in Cabrini.
“I do know I’m lucky to just have a couple of broken ribs.”
That was an understatement.
“Anyway, thank you. You probably saved my life, and I wanted to thank you for that. So I hope you still have this phone, and that you listen to this message.”
Something warm and golden like sunshine pierced the worry and exhaustion and hunger that had wrapped around her like a sweltering blanket she couldn’t escape from. It lit her up inside, however briefly, and she let it.
“I saw you at the shelter. I don’t know what your circumstances are, but if you need any help, please let me help you. It’s the least I can do. Just call me back. If you have to leave a message, I promise I will get back to you.”
It was a tempting offer. She could damn sure use a break. But she didn’t want to risk leading anyone from the lab who might be searching for her to an innocent.
“Oh, my name is Kevin, by the way.” He cleared his throat, and she was positive it was a nervous gesture. “Again, thank you. I hope you get back to me. I’d like to thank you in person.”
Message over, Dani put the phone back in her pocket. It was so, so tempting to accept help from this guy. He didn’t have to know anything about her, even her real name. It would get her out of Point Sable much sooner. Depending on just how much help he offered, it might get her to the other side of the world. From what she’d read online, it sounded like the guy had an obscene trust fund.
But was it right to take payment for helping someone? Even though she probably had saved his life – the Dogtown crew killed as easily as other people changed their clothes. It wasn’t like she’d be handing him an invoice. He’d offered any help she might need. He knew she’d been at the shelter, so he knew she had nothing. And while he may not have specifically mentioned money, that’s what he meant.
The rain intensified, coming in hard enough that she had to move further away from the window to keep from getting soaked. She didn’t like being too far from an easy exit, but she didn’t want to spend the night in sodden clothes either.
God, she hated being on the streets again. Kevin’s offer of help stayed in her mind all night.
Chapter 5
Laughter. That was the sound Kevin remembered most. Not the words spoken by the attackers, but the way they laughed while kicking him. It echoed in his head at odd moments. Usually in quiet lulls but sometimes when someone was speaking to him. Like right now, as two of his friends carried on a conversation in front of him, apparently unaware that Kevin hadn’t said anything for several minutes.
One of them laughed. Kevin’s body jerked at the sound, the movement sending a
wave of pain outward from his broken ribs. He placed a hand on his chest and tried to focus on the here and now instead of memories.
“Hey,” said Brandon. “You okay, man?”
Brandon Hodge and Tyler Kincaid were his oldest friends. Brandon was the son of college professors, neither of whom knew what to do with the fact that their son had gone into corporate law. Tall and muscular, wearing jeans and a white button down shirt that glowed against his reddish-brown skin, he had an easy smile and a generally carefree attitude despite his high pressure job. He’d worked elsewhere his first couple of years out of law school until Sean had finally convinced him to work at Moynihan Consolidated. Those two could talk business for hours, a fact that had always amused Kevin, who could spend just as many hours talking books and history with Brandon’s parents.
“Yeah,” Kevin said. “My ribs hurt, that’s all.”
Tyler said, “You run out of the prescription stuff, I can hook you up. No problem.”
And that just about summed up Tyler. He’d always been the one to provide the booze, the drugs, the impetus to make bad decisions for the sake of a good time. He came from a similar background as Kevin, at least money-wise. Tyler’s father went through wives like some men did accountants, changing every few years as the mood struck. Tyler seemed determined to repeat the pattern, only without marriage and confining his relationships to weeks instead of years. Tonight his partying lifestyle showed hard on his face, heavy purple bags under his eyes and the angles of his sharp bone structure drawn in harsh lines.
“No, thanks.” Kevin had always preferred booze to the hard stuff and after his latest run-in with the law, he was rethinking even going that far, at least for a while. “Besides, I think you actually look worse than I do. We know why I look like crap. What’s your excuse?” He smiled broadly because laughing would have hurt like hell.
Tyler nodded. “Yeah. Let’s just say, there’s more to opening a club than I expected.”
Brandon said, “Don’t you have people who can take care of things for you? What’s the point of being a debauched playboy if you can’t play?”
“Some things can only be handled by the owner,” Tyler said. “Especially since I have some very particular attractions in mind for my clientele.”
Brandon waved a hand dismissively. “A good deejay, a bartender who knows how to water down the overpriced drinks, and some hot girls dancing in cages is all you need. Nobody goes to a club expecting anything else.”
“One of my investors had the idea to make part of the club private, just for members. If people are going to pay for memberships, they need to feel like they’re getting their money’s worth.” Tyler’s lascivious grin told Kevin everything he needed to know about the kind of entertainment that would be on hand.
But there was one thing that didn’t make sense. “Why do you need investors?”
Tyler’s grin wavered for a beat. “Ah, you know how business is.”
Kevin exchanged a look with Brandon. “Just make sure we’re always on your VIP list, buddy.”
Tyler nodded and stood. “You know it. Glad to see you’re okay, man, but I gotta run or I’ll be late for a meeting.”
They said their goodbyes and Tyler left. Brandon raised his eyebrows. “So what do you think it is this time?”
Kevin shifted into a more comfortable position. “I think he’d tell us if he was cut off again. Maybe his old man put him on an allowance instead of taking everything away.”
“Did you ever go with him to those poker games in Lincoln Heights?” Lincoln Heights was a South Side neighborhood adjacent to Cabrini.
Kevin shook his head. “Poker with Russian gangsters is not my idea of a good time.”
“I went with him once,” said Brandon. “It was right after I broke up with Lia, so my head wasn’t on straight. Wouldn’t have gone otherwise. That was some spooky shit, man. Tyler lost big, didn’t have enough cash to cover it and they wouldn’t let him go get the money and bring it back. They took his fucking car. We had to call a cab to get the hell out of there.”
“I would laugh if I just hadn’t had my ass handed to me in Cabrini.”
“It’s a damn lucky thing that old man from the shelter came out when he did and ran those guys off.”
“Yeah.” Kevin blinked, and the face of the Cabrini Ghost hovered in his vision. “Very lucky.”
Brandon spoke again but Kevin heard only laughter. The muffled impact of shoes slamming into his body, and his own gasps of pain.
“Hey. Did you hear me? You okay?”
Kevin started, embarrassed when he realized what had happened. “Yeah, just a little out of it. Percocet makes me woozy.”
Brandon looked doubtful but offered no challenge. “I’m having dinner with the folks tonight. You up to coming? They’d love to see you.”
“Another time. Give my love to your mom.”
“Just warning you now, she’s likely to send me back here tomorrow with a casserole.”
Kevin grinned. “I’ll be happy to eat it.”
A few minutes later Kevin was alone.
Not long ago he would have been happy to take another pain pill and climb into bed. There were only two left in the bottle and he was ready to move on to ibuprofen whether his body was or not. He’d never say it to Tyler, or even Brandon, but Tyler’s casual offer to supply him with drugs spooked him. It was one thing to score some molly for a long night of clubbing back when they were in college, but this felt different.
Coasting through life the way Tyler did just didn’t have the same appeal as it used to, and it hadn’t for a while now. But Kevin couldn’t see himself adapting to the corporate lifestyle, spending his days trapped in an office like Sean and Brandon. Olivia had a thriving pediatric practice, and she volunteered at a free clinic on a regular basis. Maybe volunteer work was something Kevin should consider, until he figured out what he wanted for the long term.
The big apartment felt too empty. Normally that feeling sent Kevin out into the night, to see friends, to flit from one nightspot to another. Tonight his melancholy mood and his battered body kept him in. The city lights beckoned from the floor to ceiling glass that separated the living room from the balcony.
Kevin picked up his new cell phone and crossed the room. A cool spring breeze greeted him as he stepped out onto the balcony. Point Sable blazed with light, a vivid painting against the black backdrop of night. His corner penthouse had views of the north and west sides of the city. When he’d moved in he’d had a choice between this apartment and one with a view of the lake. Beyond the pretty lights of the harbor lay only gloom, dotted with the occasional light of a ship or pleasure boat. Too lonely for him, too dark. He liked the brightness and cheer of the downtown view, full of color and life.
Tonight all that light made him wonder about the slivers of darkness in between. Who lived there? Were they safe tonight? From his vantage point he couldn’t see the South Side but he knew that area was darker than the rest of the city. It was the first major difference he’d noticed when he crossed 110th Street on his way to the shelter. Fewer streetlights, many of which didn’t even work. Fewer businesses with lights. Long stretches of unnerving darkness lit only by the headlights of his car. It made the occasional orange flares of a pedestrian’s cigarette all the more unsettling.
Was the Ghost out in that darkness tonight? Did she have somewhere safe to sleep, or was she more concerned with the safety of others? She hadn’t responded to his message. The temptation to leave another was great. Feeling a mixture of morose and lonely and curious, he gave in and placed the call.
Kevin wasn’t expecting her to answer and he wasn’t wrong. “It’s me again. Just calling to check on you. I wanted you to know that my offer is still open, if you need any help with anything. You seemed okay when you ran away but I was worried about you being injured. That was a lot of guys you took on, all by yourself.” He paused, not sure how to broach the subject. “If you’d like to tell me how you managed that, I’d lov
e to hear it.” A nervous laugh slipped out.
“The city lights are beautiful tonight. It’s a little chilly. The breeze is off the lake and strong enough that it pushed some of the haze away. So the lights are bright, the colors really vivid. Like a digital painting in a video game. I hope you’re safe tonight, and that it’s not too dark wherever you are.”
Suddenly feeling ridiculous, he hung up. It was a long time before he went back inside.
Chapter 6
Dani watched from the shadows as the police completed their roust. The old, abandoned factory was an easy place to make an arrest quota. At any given time, drug addicts and dealers, pimps and prostitutes and johns, could be found in the many nooks and crannies of the large industrial space. Except, of course, for right after a raid. Cops rounded people up, confiscated drugs and cash, and left. That’s when Dani moved in.
She crept in slowly, dialing up her hearing and doing a thorough sweep. Other than a few rats in the walls and birds in the rafters, she was alone. That wouldn’t last long but she’d have time to get in a good workout. She found a piece of machinery that wasn’t too rusty and left her hoodie and t-shirt draped over it. Down to a tank top and jeans, she did some warm-up exercises to start.
The too-big clothes were the best she could get out of the shelter’s donation box, but even if she could have found something that fit she would have taken the larger sizes to hide her form. While she was far from looking like a body builder, she had more muscle than a homeless and presumably malnourished woman should. The kind of physique that would be noticed, remarked upon, and worst of all – remembered. Angel always said they looked like women UFC or MMA fighters, cut and solid. Nicole said they looked like Amazons.
Dani didn’t care what she looked like, as long as she could keep anyone from hurting her ever again.