Dead of the Day (2007)

by Karen E. Olson

  ''Can you get your hand in there?'' he asked.

  A nervous laugh escaped my throat. ''Let's not try this at home,'' I said, stretching my fingers as far as they could. My fingertips felt something hard. I hoped it was the keys. Vinny didn't make any sudden movements, so I figured it was.

  I pulled on the tape to get my hand closer.

  ''Shit,'' Vinny growled.

  ''I'm doing the best I can,'' I said loudly.

  ''Sssh.''

  ''No one can hear us in here,'' I said, reaching farther into his pocket. My fingers tickled the keys and I managed to get underneath them, sliding them up along the fabric. Deftly, I managed to pull my thumb around and grasped one of the keys. It popped out of the pocket.

  ''Got it,'' I said, then felt Vinny's fingers slide over mine as he took another key, on the opposite end of the key chain.

  ''You use yours, I'll use mine,'' he said. I felt him jabbing at the tape.

  I took a deep breath and wrenched the key around, but I couldn't make contact with the tape without seriously injuring my wrist. ''I can't,'' I said.

  A jab into the back of my hand caused me to catch my breath. ''Fuck, Vinny, what are you doing?''

  ''I think I've got it.''

  I moved my hand a little and felt the tape give way a little. Seconds later, Vinny practically dislocated both my wrists by yanking down quickly, but since my hands were free, I couldn't really be too pissed about it. Fortunately the tape had caught on my shirt sleeves, so I was pretty sure skin loss was minimal.

  I was glad it was dark in here. I didn't want to see the condition of my thumb. I'd have to go back to that emergency room and get restitched after this.

  Vinny was working on the tape on our ankles, and within a few minutes, our legs were free again, too.

  We sat, getting our bearings.

  ''So how are we getting off this ship?'' I asked.

  ''Can you get up okay?'' Vinny asked, and we got to our feet. I took his lack of an answer to my question to mean that he didn't have a clue how to get out of this.

  I was afraid we would be locked in, but when Vinny moved the latch, the door creaked open, letting more of the day's gray light inside. He peered around the corner.

  ''See anything?'' I whispered.

  He shook his head. ''Come on.''

  What did we have to lose? The worst that could happen now was that Lourdes would shoot us and then dump us in the water. We stayed against the wall, looking over the railing at the harbor beneath us. I wished we were on the other side, so we could see what was happening on the dock, but it was probably better this way. I doubted there were any cameras that could see us over here.

  We heard footsteps and froze. We were leaning against another door, and Vinny reached around, quietly pushing it open. We went inside, not expecting to see anyone else.

  Lin Rodriguez was on the floor.

  She wasn't in any better shape than we'd just been in, since she, too, was bound in duct tape. Vinny quickly used his keys again and managed to free her as she stared in disbelief.

  ''What are you doing here?'' she asked.

  ''Long story,'' I said, ''and I might ask you the same thing. But we should get going now.''

  Vinny pulled her to her feet, but she was in worse shape than we thought and stumbled.

  ''Just hang on a little while, okay?'' Vinny whispered. ''We'll get you out of here.''

  More footsteps outside the door stopped us. I looked around the room, which was filled with unmarked cardboard boxes. A door on the opposite side seemed the best place to go.

  ''Vinny,'' I whispered, cocking my head toward the door.

  He nodded, and the three of us tiptoed out into a hallway, obviously in the middle of the freighter somewhere. It was so narrow that we had to go single file, with Vinny leading the way. But we had no idea where we were heading. Stairs both up and down greeted us around a corner.

  Vinny started down as someone clambered above us. I didn't like the idea of being in the bowels of a goddamn ship, and if I had my way, I would've run the whole afternoon in reverse and gone out for lunch instead of trying to trick Roger Hartley at East Shore Terminal. My stomach growled as I thought about it, and Vinny glanced back with a sly grin, like this was the most normal thing we could be doing, skulking around a freighter, running from a little woman with a gun.

  Lin Rodriguez was keeping up pretty well, in between me and Vinny. I saw the red marks on her neck and face from where the bees had stung her. She was still a bit swollen.

  The bees. I thought about the bees hovering near the front of the ship as we went down the dock. I hoped they hadn't found a bomb or anything.

  We came to another door at the bottom of the stairs, and now I could hear something, something that wasn't the crane.

  It was chatter. A lot of chatter. On the other side of the door.

  The door swung wide and a roomful of faces stared at us.

  Chapter 36

  I felt like I was in Titanic. The part where Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet are running around in steerage and all the third-class passengers are cramming themselves up against the gates trying not to drown.

  Not that there was all that water in here, but there were that many people. Must have been a hundred, at least.

  And it stank. Someone wasn't cleaning out the chamber pots. If, in fact, they even had them. I didn't want to stick around long enough to find out, but the three of us were glued to the floor.

  It had gotten eerily quiet as we all stared each other down.

  Vinny looked at me. ''Do you speak Spanish?''

  ''I took it in eighth grade. I can say hello.''

  His eyebrows rose at Lin, who shook her head sadly. It was too bad there weren't any Chinese here. They were all obviously Hispanic, and I thought about the floater. Who the hell were these people?

  ''Say hello, Annie,'' Vinny said.

  My eyes moved from face to face, all of them dirty, men and women alike. I didn't see any children. Most of them were expressionless, as if they were used to having to pretend to be invisible. I focused on one man, whose black eyes glittered with what could've been tears. ''Hola,'' I said.

  A small smile appeared, but before anyone could respond, Vinny put his finger to his lips, indicating they shouldn't say anything. He shook his head. ''Wish we could tell them we'll be back,'' he said.

  Back from where? I didn't have time to ask. We were going up the stairs, the door shut behind us, closing off those people again.

  Somehow Vinny found a door to the outside. Lin and I were blindly following him. If it were me, I'd probably be leading us in circles, but Vinny really did seem to have his head about him. Maybe he'd been an Eagle Scout. Those kids knew everything, how to follow stars and make fire and shit.

  I used to make fun of them. Now I wanted to know where I could sign up.

  My heart jumped into my throat as a face appeared at the door. But then it was gone. I looked down, and the guy was on the ground, Vinny standing over him with his fist clenched.

  We were going to feel like crap once we got out of here. Good thing I had those Percocets.

  ''Come on,'' Vinny whispered, and the three of us ran along the railing, not bothering to see if anyone was after us, just hoping we could get as far away as possible.

  A gangplank was up ahead, leading back to the dock. Lin's SUV still sat there and, as we got closer, I could see the bees swarming, a few of them near the gangplank. I didn't think I was allergic, and this really wasn't the time to stop and be cautious.

  But then I pulled on Vinny's sleeve and pointed toward two men with guns walking up the dock below us. As the three of us stopped, they saw us, pointing their weapons in our direction.

  I heard the gunshots as we threaded our way around a stairwell and out toward the railing on the other side of the freighter. Movement down to our left caught my eye. It was another guy with a gun. We ran along the edge, away from him, but hit the dead end at the back of the ship. Something whizzed b
y my head, and Vinny pushed me over, out of range. He was watching the water below.

  ''We have to jump,'' he said.

  I didn't even have time to think. Vinny had Lin up and over the railing, until she was out of sight. Blood was pounding so hard in my ears that if she made any noise hitting the water, I couldn't hear it.

  I was on top of the railing, a fear of heights constricting my chest.

  ''It's just water,'' Vinny whispered. ''You can dive; just do it.''

  And I felt my body falling, the water coming closer. An old instinct kicked in and my arms moved over my head, my fingers hitting the surface first as I plunged into the icy harbor.

  It was fucking cold. I felt like I'd drunk a bottle of ice; I was freezing from the inside out.

  I opened my eyes, and it wasn't much better than having them closed.

  My arms pulled the water back behind me, and in three strokes my head broke the surface. The freighter was right in front of me, and I kicked to move away from it. I looked up at where we'd jumped from the ship, expecting to see the men with guns. But they weren't there.

  Something grabbed my waist, and Vinny was guiding me away from the freighter to the dock at the next terminal. Lin was next to us, keeping up. She was a helluva lot stronger than I'd given her credit for.

  Finally we were huddled together under the wooden dock. My teeth started to chatter as I treaded water.

  ''Hypothermia,'' I gasped.

  Vinny shook his head. ''Don't think about it. We're

  going to go up there''—he indicated a wooden ladder just behind me that led up to the dock—''and run like hell.''

  Sounded like a plan to me. If I could feel my feet once they hit land. I doubted it.

  ''Why did they stop shooting at us?'' I asked.

  Vinny shook his head, and I could see he was perplexed by that, too.

  ''I'll go first, make sure it's okay,'' Vinny said.

  ''Yeah, right, and if it's not?'' I asked. ''Will you leave us here to die?'' Suddenly that Titanic image loomed large. I certainly didn't want to go down with the goddamn ship.

  Vinny pointed toward another dock, the last one we could see. ''If I don't give the signal to come up, you guys have to get over there.''

  It sounded good, in theory.

  Vinny climbed up the ladder and in what seemed like hours later but was probably only seconds, his hand came down and we heard him say, ''Come on.''

  Lin's face was blue, so I did the right thing and let her go next. It worried me a little, because I was getting used to the cold water and I didn't want to get too comfortable.

  The footing was slippery, so I was glad when Vinny's hand wrapped itself around my forearm and helped me onto the dock. I could still feel my feet, but just barely.

  I glanced over toward the East Shore Terminal dock, but it was concealed by the freighter we'd just jumped from. We didn't see anyone anywhere.

  Vinny was nodding. ''Okay, let's go.''

  My legs were like rubber, and I moved in slow motion. My wet jeans clung to my legs, and water squished in my shoes. I'd lost the yellow slicker in the water, and my fleece was soggy, as heavy as my hair, which was so saturated it hung straight.

  We managed to make it up the dock and across the concrete lot toward a door in the gate that we hadn't seen before. Vinny pushed it, and it swung open. We stepped out onto the street and could see the Explorer and the Taurus up ahead, just where we'd left them.

  But as we reached the corner of the East Shore Terminal building, where our adventure had begun, a black Chevy Impala swerved out of the gate and slammed on its brakes, skidding to within inches of us.

  Shit.

  Sam O'Neill got out.

  What the fuck was he doing?

  ''Sam!'' I said, but the word caught in my throat.

  He had a gun in his hand.

  Before anyone could react, there was a click behind us, and as I swung around to see what it was, an explosion crashed in my ears.

  Lourdes tumbled down the steps of the terminal building, as if she'd just taken a wrong step. But as she rolled to a stop at the bottom, we could see her chest was a bloody mess.

  Chapter 37

  ''She was going to kill you,'' Sam said flatly, and I saw the gun in her hand; remarkably, she hadn't dropped it.

  Vinny's hand snaked into mine as we stared at her.

  ''Why?'' I asked Sam.

  He'd slipped his gun into his waistband—I thought they only did that on TV—and walked over to Lourdes, standing over her and shaking his head slightly. ''Isn't it obvious?''

  Since I had no clue until today that my mother's cleaning lady would want to kill me, I didn't see what could be so obvious. ''No, it isn't,'' I said, ignoring the slight squeeze of Vinny's hand that I was sure meant ''shut the fuck up.'' But somehow I just couldn't. ''Why did she have us tied up and thrown on the boat? Did she think we already knew about the people down there?''

  Sam's head lifted and his eyes narrowed. ''What people?''

  ''There are people on that boat, down below. I think she was smuggling them in.''

  He didn't say anything, continuing to stare at me.

  Lin was looking at Lourdes with a curious expression on her face.

  ''What is it?'' I asked her.

  ''She cleans my house,'' she said softly. ''I was so

  surprised to see her here. But all I remember is seeing her on the dock and then, the next thing I knew, you were there, helping me.''

  Before I could respond, Roger Hartley and Springer bounded through the gate. In the same second, we heard sirens approaching.

  Sam frowned, turning slightly toward the sound.

  Hartley barked, ''What's going on out here?'' as he reached us, huffing and puffing. Hell, he needed exercise worse than I did.

  Sam held up his hand. ''Sorry, Roger, but she pulled a gun.''

  Hartley and Springer gaped at the sight of Lourdes' body.

  ''She was running the counterfeit green card operation,'' Sam said to no one in particular.

  Vinny was still holding my hand and still hadn't said anything.

  ''You'll need to come down to the station and make a statement about what happened here,'' Sam told us, oblivious to the fact that we were soaking wet.

  I started shivering and noticed Lin was, too. Vinny's hand tightened around mine. He wasn't shivering. He must be some sort of fucking Aquaman.

  Oh, yeah, he was a marine scientist in his other life. Maybe he was used to swimming in freezing water.

  ''Sure,'' Vinny said. ''What about Tom Behr? You'd better make sure he takes your statement, too.'' He indicated Sam's gun.

  Sam glared at Vinny. ''It was self-defense. You saw her. She had a gun.''

  ''I never said it wasn't,'' Vinny said, and I couldn't figure out what his problem was. While I knew he and Tom had a tenuous relationship at best, I didn't realize he could be hostile to all cops. Maybe it had something to do with being a private detective; there was just an automatic dislike on both sides.

  The cruisers came around the bend, their lights flashing to announce their arrival. They eased themselves against the side of the road, and I saw Sam punching in numbers on his cell phone, turning as someone obviously answered, and talking with his back to us for a few seconds before facing us again. He raised his eyebrows at Vinny. ''Tom's on his way.'' He paused. ''And so's the coroner.'' Another pause, and I followed his gaze to my hand. The one Vinny wasn't holding.

  I yanked it up. The stitches were gone, the wound uglier than it had been when I'd first gotten cut. The duct tape had left a red band around half my wrist, and the skin was raw—red, but not bleeding. It didn't hurt. I was numb; it had to be hypothermia setting in.

  ''A couple of ambulances are coming, too,'' Sam said.

  I couldn't figure out why Sam was here. The last time we saw him, he was in the green Honda, the same green Honda that we'd followed here. But we hadn't seen him here earlier, and now he was in a black Impala. I tried to chalk up my questions
to being dunked in cold salt water, but something didn't feel right.

  When the officers got out of their cars, Sam went to greet them. I heard more sirens in the distance, probably the ambulances, but I moved a little closer to the cops, hoping to hear what Sam was telling them.

  It was a jumble of voices, then, ''. . . monitors . . . saw them jump . . . what the fuck's going on over here?''