Run to You

by Lynne King

  “A friend concerned about my welfare, Shaun?” She wanted to lash out, scream at him, tear his liver out. Instead her voice came out controlled, her emotions locked within.

  The loud sound of the intercom buzzer broke his silence. “Shit, who the hell’s that now?” He pressed the receiver button.

  His body stiffened on hearing the voice asking to be let up and he retrieved the gun from his pocket. Liz looked anxiously on, waiting for him to say or do something. The buzzer sounded again.

  “Yeah, alright, come up.” He pressed the release.

  Facing Liz, he seemed hesitant in what to do next. “Go into the bathroom, Liz, and lock the door. Don’t make a sound, understand.”

  “Why let whoever it is in?” She could sense his fear and knew it was an unfamiliar emotion for someone like him.

  Pulling the gold chain out from beneath his shirt, he undid the clasp. On the chain with her mother’s locket was a key. Liz guessed it was to a safety deposit box. Quickly he clipped the chain around her neck, the chain long enough to allow the locket and key to sit in her cleavage, her shirt buttoned up above it. Opening her purse, he then dropped the cell phone he had confiscated from her earlier and his own phone which he made sure was turned off.

  “I’m trusting you now. Don’t try and use it and don’t come out, whatever you hear. Remain silent, otherwise we’ll both be dead, understand.”

  He must have read the alarm in her face because he brushed her lips with his own and added into her ear, “It’ll be alright, babe.” He pushed her toward the bathroom. “They simply want to talk and unless we entomb ourselves in here for eternity, I’m going to have to listen. Now move it.”

  “Surely…” The words froze as the gun came into view again. He looked undecided, glancing about and then he went to the sofa and slipped it down the side of the leather cushioning. Entering the bathroom, she locked the door as Shaun told her and stood with her ear pressed against the paneling. Cold fear had her in its grip as she heard the knock—loud and hard, followed by Shaun’s movement as he answered it. Two lots of footsteps entered the room.

  “You alone here?”

  Liz could pick out quite clearly the Italian accent.

  “Yeah, I’m alone. You boys here on a social visit or has Gandini sent you?”

  “It’s Mister Gandini to you and cut the crap. You know what we’re here for.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you boys, but I haven’t a friggin’ clue.”

  The voice became more menacing as he said, “Wise up, tell us who set the bank job up. Mister Gandini has a forgivable nature where honesty is concerned. You didn’t realize who you were robbing maybe. He wants his property back—that’s all. You can keep the rest.”

  Liz wondered if Shaun was ever going to say something. Finally he did, his voice cool and calculated with no sign of the earlier fear she had witnessed. “He thinks I’m involved.” He gave a short laugh. “I don’t do banks, not my style. Tell your boss he should try looking at his so-called associates from out of state, like Detroit for starters, or even the Albanians, seeing they seem to be popping up everywhere.”

  “You’re wasting our time, O’Riley. We know you’ve been screwing around with a girl from the bank and your name was put through the system. We also know it reads whiter than white, but you’ve been careless because some cop is after your ass.” A gruff voice with a Manhattan accent was doing all the talking now. “What’s wrong, O’Riley, thought you too clever for us?”

  “Get out of here and tell your boss he’s wasting his time with me. I’m clever enough to know not to mess around on his turf. The girl is a fucking unlucky coincidence and I don’t know why some dumb cop is checking me out. Jaysus! I met her in a singles’ bar for Christ sake!”

  Liz could tell Shaun was now agitated, his accent much more pronounced and there was the sound of feet movement now.

  “The polite reasoning is over and I don’t take messages. You can tell Mister Gandini yourself. You’re coming with us.”

  Liz heard what sounded like a scuffle. The popping sound followed by a thud, as if something or someone had hit the ground with force, came at the same time the gruff voice said, “You’ve fucking killed him.”

  Her hand shot up to stifle her scream.

  “The boss wanted him alive. Shit, how do we explain this? Goddamn! You knew how he would react and you could have winged him, not turn him into worm bait.”

  “The Paddy went for a gun. I had no choice. You make sure that’s what my uncle hears, understood. Now let’s turn this place over and then go and pick up the girl. What he can’t tell us, she will.”

  Sounds of a room being ransacked echoed through the door. Furniture was being turned over and the tearing of fabrics and glass breaking could be heard. They were in the bedrooms now, ripping away bed linen and going through the closets. Liz felt her heart was going to burst from her chest and her breathing seemed to reverberate through the walls. Any moment now they were going to break down the door and find her. Frantically her eyes sought out a place to hide. The luxurious bathroom had everything but hiding in the shower cubicle or the bath was both obvious and revealing. Her gaze flew to the small window. They were on the fifth floor and by the time someone heard her screams, it would be too late. A wicker laundry basket was right over in the far corner and partly obscured by the basins. The size was enough to accommodate her frame if she squeezed herself into a fetal position. Crazy ideas were fighting for validity and there was no time to think whether it would work.

  Silently she freed the lock on the bathroom door and went over to the basket. It was empty, so she grabbed a bath towel, squeezed herself into the confined space, and placed the towel over her. She was trembling and close to hyperventilating. Closing her eyes she tried to imagine herself somewhere else, anywhere but in this tomb. When she heard the door open and the voices approaching, silent praying had at last calmed her breathing, her body still.

  “Let’s get out of here. We’re wasting our time. It’s obvious she’s not under the fucking bed and the stuff isn’t stashed in the tub. Have someone posted outside in case she turns up here while we’re over at her place. Make sure she’s brought to me first and not my uncle, understand.”

  Liz could hear the footsteps retreat and the voices drift off. The door slamming coincided with her breath exhaling. She waited and listened, unable to believe she could have been so lucky, that they had given up and gone. Minutes ticked by. Finally she pushed the towel away and climbed out, her limbs stiff and pins and needles attacking her feet. With the circulation flowing through massaging her limbs, she crept out of the bathroom.

  She came to an abrupt halt. Ahead, Shaun’s lifeless body leaned up against the leather couch, his crumpled legs spread out on the cream carpet. A thick crimson stain had spread all around him—its source was the gaping hole in his chest. His black shirt had a glossy wet appearance. Her gaze rose as far as seeing his head was slumped forward, the chin resting on his chest.

  Spinning round on her heels, she ran back into the bathroom and fell to her knees. With her head hanging over the toilet bowl, her stomach felt as if it had been turned inside out. Finally, when there was nothing left to heave, Liz staggered to the wash basin and leaned heavily on it. Staring into the mirror, she tried to get a grip. Cupped hands of ice cold water splashed up into her face in order to mobilize her out of the frozen state of terror. Seeing any lifeless body like that was sickening if only for the violence it portrayed, but Shaun had chosen that path and had no doubt done the same to others. No, she felt no sadness for his departure, but what she did feel was a frightening insight that she had even more to fear. Those killers were after her now, thinking she knew something and when they found out she didn’t, her life was over. She was a witness to murder.

  Picking up her purse, from where she had dropped it climbing out of the laundry basket, she rummaged through it. Finally her fingers found the white printed card at the bottom of the bag. Taking out her ce
ll phone, she dialed the private cell phone number.

  “Yeah, Willis speaking.”

  The words burst out. “He’s dead. They’ve shot him.”

  Whatever he was saying in response, Liz wasn’t listening. The panic had been slowly building up and now she couldn’t control it. “Please, you’ve got to help me. They’re coming back and they’re going to kill me.” She came out of the bathroom and her eyes fell on the gun lying in Shaun’s unclenched hand.

  The black sedan had just pulled out from the car park as his cell phone went off. Jack recognized the hysterical voice straight away. While she was screaming and sobbing in his ear, he also observed a car pull up to allow a heavily built man to climb out and enter the street foyer. It was the reception area used for visitors and residents for the huge apartment complex. The car had then disappeared into the underground parking bay. Jack knew a goon when he saw one, which meant both entrances were being covered.

  “Calm down and listen. I’m coming straight up, but I won’t be announcing myself into the intercom so listen for the buzz and release the lift lock for your floor.” Jack removed his gun from his shoulder holster and slipped it into his jacket pocket.

  He entered the apartment block via the foyer, avoiding eye contact with the goon and entered the elevators. His body covered the intercom so he couldn’t be observed and buzzed what he knew was O’Riley’s apartment. As he instructed her, she didn’t speak. The elevator doors closed and several minutes later he was entering the apartment and taking in a familiar murder scene, only this time there was a witness.

  “Are you hurt at all?” He was taking in her ashen tear-stained face and the way she stood by the entrance door, her purse clutched to her chest.

  She shook her head. “No, I hid in the bathroom when they came.”

  At least the sobbing and hysteria had left her but Jack felt she was fighting hard to hold it together, her eyes glassy and unfocused.

  As he looked around him, it was obvious they had been searching for something. The apartment was sparsely furnished so it would have been difficult to hide anything. A glance in the bedroom revealed that though they had been quick, the search had been ruthlessly thorough. The satin sheets had been stripped from the bed and the mattress was halfway off. Torn clothing lay strewn across the floor, the closet doors open, and drawers pulled apart. In the kitchen it was a similar scene with jars emptied out on the work surface and the fridge contents emptied on the floor. Cupboard doors hung loosely by their hinges and utensils scattered. Whatever they were searching for wasn’t that big an item, seeing they even looked in the freezer. Jack returned to the main room and glanced at Liz. She was still fixated to the spot, her eyes staring down at her purse. Going over to the body, he saw the gunshot wound to the chest—straight through the heart at close range.

  “Did you hear a struggle or a warning before they shot him?” He asked over his shoulder while he bent down and started checking O’Riley’s pockets. He was careful not to leave his own prints over the murder scene. There was no gun lying around and the guy must have had one. The killers would have picked it up, he guessed.

  “Can’t you get me out of here? I told you they’re coming back,” she finally answered, her voice a whisper.

  Jack straightened up and faced her. An innocent dragged into blackmail, robbery, and murder or a brilliant deceitful gangster’s tart looking for an escape plan and a dupe to help her carry it out. It was decision time. He went over to her and gently lifted her chin with his fingers so her gaze met his.

  “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, sweetheart, like what’s your involvement in all this. I need some answers fast because at the moment it doesn’t look too good for you.”

  Her pupils were widening as the alarm built up, making him aware his words were obviously sinking in. It was callous of him, but he was only being truthful, there was no soft option. “I radio this in and the cops and Feds are going to be swarming in and seeing what I’m trying not to think. That you helped your boyfriend with the bank raid, he double crossed his buddies, got taken out, and now you are trying to act the victim here to save your own neck.”

  “No,” she cried out and started shaking her head uncontrollably. “He forced me to do it. Said they would kill my family back in England and Michael Anderson if I didn’t do what they wanted.”

  “Who’s they?” He gripped her shoulders and tried to hold her still.

  “I don’t know,” she sobbed.

  Immediately he brought her face into his shoulder. Wrapping his arms around her, he drew her body up tight to his as she cried uncontrollably, her whole body shaking.

  His hand came up, fingers lightly stroking her head. “I’m sorry. I had to know.” His voice was soothing now, the hardness gone. “Let’s get you out of here and somewhere safe.” He felt a tightening in his gut—repressed anger at whoever was responsible for the terror inflicted upon her trembling body. That intoxicating scent she wore and the warmth and close proximity of her body pressed up against his was also playing havoc with his senses. It made him feel both protective and turned on.

  She withdrew her face from his shoulder, her glistening gaze meeting his head-on and in that split second all rational thought left him as he lowered his mouth upon hers. She didn’t pull back or push him away. Instead her lips opened, welcoming him in as if they were already lovers embarking on a passionate tryst. It was exquisite and surreal delving into her moist recess—his tongue twining around hers and feeling his body harden with desire and yearning. As if an electric current had struck him he broke away, releasing his hold on her at the same time.

  “I’m sorry, that should never have happened.” He said hurriedly. Realization hit him hard and with it came the feeling he had just put his whole professional career in jeopardy doing something he had never contemplated before—mixing work with pleasure. What was he thinking of? He had a corpse, a goon down in the lobby and more probably on their way back here, and he was getting fresh with the witness who for all he knew could be as guilty as her dead boyfriend. His next plan of action then seemed even crazier and yet he couldn’t think of an alternative if he was to keep her safe. He needed answers and if he called this in, he wouldn’t be the only one with the questions and he couldn’t guarantee she’d live long enough to provide any answers.

  “Right, we’re going down in the elevator and leaving via the lobby. Now I’m relying on the goon who’s supposed to be looking out won’t know what you look like.” Taking out a handkerchief, he moistened it and dabbed it around her eyes, removing the tear stains mixed with mascara. He felt her gaze upon him, but avoided meeting it. She had remained strangely subdued since their kiss and he wasn’t sure whether she was in shock from the killing or his lust-filled advance. He placed the handkerchief back in his pocket and lifted her chin gently. “He certainly won’t expect you to be with another guy so act like we’re together and don’t look his way. Do exactly as I say and you’ll be okay.”

  “Why haven’t you radioed it in? Surely if more police showed up, that guy would disappear.”

  Finally she had spoken. Her voice, Jack noticed, was hesitant and wary. Now he wasn’t sure whether she was fearful for her life, nervous of him, or playing a game of her own. “This will be reported anonymously by me once we are long gone.” He motioned her forward toward the elevator. “No one must know you’re a witness to this or that you are in my custody. If the people who murdered O’Riley are who I think they are, those animals won’t stop at nothing to get hold of you.”

  “Can’t I be put in protective custody or something?” She stepped back from the open elevator.

  The fear was radiating itself again. Jack could see it in her face and the way she clutched that damn purse to herself. He had to get her to overcome it and appear natural if they were going to get out of here unscathed.

  “Liz, you’ve got to trust me. You called me, remember. Now I’m going to place my arm around you and we are going to step out of that elevator
like a couple.” He smiled. “You can do it.”

  She stepped forward and he placed his arm about her shoulders as they entered the elevator. When the elevator doors opened, his fingers lightly squeezed her shoulder and with slight pressure moved her forward onto the marble floor. He held her close to him and could feel her body stiffen, as their shoes seemed to echo their presence. In his other hand, concealed in his jacket pocket was the 9 mm, his fingers clenched round the handle of the gun, his index finger on the trigger. From a sideways glance he noticed the security guy seated behind his desk, his attention on them both. Jack nodded an acknowledgement. The guy sprang up from his seat and seemed suspicious, but didn’t say anything. Instead he stole a glance over to the entrance. Jack followed his line of vision and saw the back of the goon through the glass doors. Obviously he had positioned himself outside and had paid of the guard to keep him informed.

  “Hey, my cab turned up yet? Booked in the name of Davidson. Honey, you did say what apartment block, didn’t you?” He squeezed her shoulder hoping she had heard him and wasn’t closing her mind to everything.

  “Yes, of course I did.” She sounded surprisingly strong.

  “No cabby has been asking for you,” the guard replied before seating himself back down, his features relaxed.

  “We’ll wait outside then, must be on its way.” Jack smiled at the guard as he walked past with Liz through the glass doors, his body shielding hers as they swung a right away from the goon. His pace quickened, forcing Liz to move with him, his arm now wrapped around her waist. Once they had reached his car, he allowed a glance over his shoulder and saw the goon was busy speaking on his cell phone and wasn’t even looking in their direction. Unlocking his car, he opened the passenger door for Liz. “Jump in and keep down low in the seat. You never know who might be driving past.” He slammed the door shut and went round to the driver’s side.