Worth the Trip

by Penny McCall

  She agreed, not that it did them much good. The area wasn’t much more than a staging place for food and bedding material. There weren’t many hiding places, at least not ones that would have gone unnoticed by the zoo employees for fifteen years.

  “Now what?” Norah said when they came up empty.

  They both looked around, Trip’s face eventually turning up to the ceiling, high above their heads.

  “There’s no place to hide anything up there.”

  “Not inside.”

  Norah followed him out the employee door and the public door, where he stopped, hands on his hips, staring at the roof.

  “You think it’s on top? In the rain and snow and birds’ nests? For fifteen years?”

  “There has to be an access ladder,” was Trip’s response, and he started off to look for one.

  The outside enclosure was surrounded by hulking formations made of concrete molded to look like rock. Those escarpments curved around the building on one side. Norah followed Trip to the point where the fake rock and concrete bunker met, and there, tucked in a narrow niche, was an iron ladder. Trip had already climbed about a third of the way up.

  Norah took a deep breath and put her foot on the lowest rung. She was no fan of heights, but she followed him, staying on the ladder with just her head and shoulders over the rooftop. And it was a big rooftop, covered with rocks and dirt and decades of bird droppings.

  Trip walked a pattern, back and forth, kicking through the debris, every once in a while bending to pick something up to give it a closer study. “Eureka,” he said the third time, returning to Norah’s perch to show her a package, bigger and heavier than the one they’d discovered at the lighthouse, wrapped in heavy plastic and sealed with duct tape.

  She held out her hand, but he wiped it off and stuffed it into his own pocket. “We have company,” he said, barely waiting for her to start back down the ladder before he climbed on.

  “Hollie?” she asked him, scrambling down as fast as she could.

  “She isn’t alone, either,” he said by way of confirmation. “There are a couple of other guys following her. Either our friends from up north, or the goons from Chicago.”

  And either way it was bad news for them.

  chapter 18

  “WHY DIDN’T WE JUST STAY UP THERE?” NORAH asked when they got to the bottom of the ladder.

  “Because they’d find us. Even down here we don’t have anywhere to go.” The rhino building backed up to the very edge of the zoo property. Only one pathway led to the door. Looking inside was a no-brainer, but if they were thorough they’d find the ladder as well. And then they’d be trapped on a building tall enough to house elephants with nowhere to run and no way down except gravity. “They look like the kind of guys who know what they’re doing.”

  “Oh. How many are there?”

  “Enough,” Trip said, because there were three including Lurch and excluding Hollie, and with a bad leg he didn’t figure he could take on any more than that. In fact, he was counting on Lurch doing his usual dull-as-a-post routine and hanging back until the other two did Hollie’s dirty work.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  He handed her the clue, which was larger and heavier than the last one and would only slow him down. “Hide this somewhere.”

  She looked at it for a second, then lifted her shirt and stuffed it a couple inches down her jeans, tucking her shirt overtop of it. “What else?”

  “You get to deal with Hollie if it becomes necessary.”

  “Really?” Some of the grimness faded from her eyes. She flexed her fingers and rotated her wrists, then curled her hands into fists and held them up. “Ready.”

  Trip rolled his eyes. “Listen, Rocky, you have the next clue. It’s your job to make sure Hollie and her crew don’t get their hands on it.”

  “And the best way of ensuring that is to incapacitate Hollie, right?”

  Trip shook his head, latched onto one fist, and pulled her down to the far corner of the building. There was a slight protruding edge, not quite wide enough to hide them but probably ample to give them the advantage of surprise.

  Hollie didn’t exactly try to camouflage their arrival. Neither did the muscle brigade.

  “Where’d she hire those guys?” Norah whispered. “Thugs R Us?”

  Trip smiled briefly. “I’ll take out the first guy who comes around that corner,” he said softly. “You keep Hollie out of my way.”

  “With pleasure.”

  His back was to Norah, but he could tell she was smiling, evilly. He probably should have been more concerned; dead bodies were so messy. But he had enough to handle, so Hollie was on her own.

  The first goon appeared, Trip stepped out, swept his feet out from under him, and punched him once in the face, turning as the next guy came at him. He tried to step forward, but the first guy grabbed his right ankle, leaving him to hop on his bad leg. The second guy moved in, both of them stopping as a rabid shriek split the silence. They all turned in time to see Norah hurtle herself away from the building and kick the guy on the ground in the side until he let go of Trip’s leg.

  Trip never took his eyes off the second guy, ducking the punch thrown at him and dropping a couple of shots into his attacker’s kidneys, then a stiff uppercut to the jaw as he tucked over the pain in his midsection. He went down, but not out. Trip took a second to look around, racing over to where Lurch was pulling Norah off Hollie, or trying to since both Norah’s hands were full of blond hair, and she wasn’t letting go.

  Trip waded into the melee, planted a hand in Hollie’s face, and shoved her onto her butt. Hollie screeched, holding her head, which was minus a blond wig. Trip didn’t have time to appreciate the sight, already heading for Norah. But she had the situation well in hand, going completely limp and catching Lurch by surprise. As his grip loosened and she slid down his body, Norah elbowed Lurch in the nuts. Lurch jackknifed and fell over on his side, groaning and retching. Norah ended up on her butt on the ground, next to Hollie and facing her.

  Hollie seized the opportunity, getting one hand on Norah’s throat. Norah broke her grip, lifted both feet, and kicked out at Hollie, who jerked out of the way, but not far enough. Norah caught her in a glancing blow, sufficient force behind it to have the breath whooshing from Hollie’s lungs. She slumped onto her side, wheezing.

  Trip turned around to check on the other two attackers, both on their feet but hanging back.

  “You didn’t tell us we were going to get attacked by a lunatic,” one of them said to Hollie.

  She waved them off, taking a minute before she said, “I didn’t know,” still wheezing as she sat up.

  One of the guys took the hand she held out and pulled her upright. She snatched her wig from Norah on the way to her feet, plastering it on her head and fussing with it for a second. It looked halfway decent by the time she was done. She had her breath and her color back, too. Her expression was still homicidal. “I only wanted to talk to you,” she snapped.

  “Right,” Norah said, letting Trip pull her to her feet. “What are the steroid twins here for?”

  “They were here to discourage you from running away, that’s all.”

  “You should have brought more than two,” Norah said.

  “I should have brought tranquilizer guns.” But Hollie had calmed down a little. “I noticed you limping this morning,” she said to Trip. “I thought a little muscle would get you to stick around and talk. And by the way, I’d really like to know how you got hurt. Were you shot? A gunshot would really give my film an edge of excitement.”

  “It’s time to give up the documentary cover story,” Trip said. “You’ve missed too much to be hanging around for that reason.”

  “I can fill in.”

  “Why are you really here?” Trip said, his gaze level on hers.

  Hollie lowered her eyes. For a second Trip thought she might cave, but she lifted her gaze to his again and said, “I’m here to document the search for t
he Gold Coast Robbery loot. You found something, didn’t you?”

  “Lurch isn’t even carrying a camera anymore,” Norah put in, but Trip figured the only way to get the truth from Hollie—short of beating it out of her—was to wait her out.

  “You,” he said to Hollie’s hirelings, “take off before I call the police.”

  “You attacked us.”

  “Just go,” Hollie said.

  “And you and your cameraman,” Trip said, flicking a glance at Lurch, not moaning anymore but still curled into a fetal position on the ground, his hands between his legs. He didn’t really know what to say about the pair of them. “I’m at a loss.”

  “I’m not,” Norah said, still spoiling for a fight. “I’m fed up. I didn’t want to do your show in the first place, where, I might point out, you were combative from the start.” She stopped ranting, her eyes narrowing on Hollie’s face. “Why is that? Why did you start off being argumentative?”

  Hollie tried to walk away.

  Norah stepped in front of her. “You disliked me even before we met? Why?”

  “You’re being paranoid.”

  Norah shifted in front of her once more. “C’mon, Hollie, you tried to make a fool of me on national television, and when that didn’t work you went on cable news and tried it again.”

  “I was just doing my job.”

  “Hah. You put your career on the line, and you love your career. Why would you risk so much unless you love something or someone . . .” Norah sucked in a breath, comprehension dawning. “It has to be Raymond. I knew he was up to something, or someone, more accurately.”

  “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

  “Am I really?” Norah pulled out her cell phone. “How about we call him, right now, you and me—”

  Hollie reached out and snapped the cell phone closed, which made Norah smirk.

  “I’m being ridiculous, huh?”

  “All right, all right.” Hollie held up her hands in the vain hope it would make Norah shut up. Then she talked some more, which worked much better, not to mention it was pretty enlightening. “I met Raymond at a symposium on the relevance of high school in a culture that demands at least a Bachelor’s Degree to get a halfway decent job.”

  “That sounds like Raymond.”

  “We had lunch a couple of times, then dinner, then . . . you know, and he was just about to dump you, but then your stupid book became a big deal, and he said it would reflect on the college if your boyfriend broke up with you just as the book hit the bestseller lists.”

  “But I broke up with him.”

  “Exactly, but he still wouldn’t take our relationship public. Then he had the nerve to suggest I interview you on my show.”

  “I thought it was Myra’s idea.”

  “Myra,” she snorted. She was pacing now, arms crossed, talking to herself more than them. “Myra called, but I would have turned her down if Raymond hadn’t made such a big deal out of it. He wanted me to plug the college, too, but the bit about giving you good publicity, that’s what put me on edge.”

  Trip rolled his eyes. “Pushed you over, more like.”

  Hollie spun around, went toe-to-toe with him, one sarcastic comment away from homicide. “Laugh it up, chapter four.”

  “What the hell is in chapter four?”

  “Hey, you really did read my book,” Norah said to Hollie, not even sparing him a glance, let alone answering his question.

  “Guilty.” Hollie blew out a breath. “It wasn’t very helpful.”

  “You were filtering it through your negative feelings toward me.”

  “Chapter four?” Trip prompted.

  Both women ignored him, Hollie pulling Norah a few steps away, asking her what she could do to get Raymond to take her seriously.

  He didn’t hear Norah’s response, probably some psychologist mumbo jumbo about how men weren’t in touch with their true feelings. She was probably right about that, but he didn’t give a damn. The only thing he wanted to get in touch with was her book, and not because everyone they ran across, including complete strangers, thought he was the epitome of chapter four. Because Norah never disagreed with them.

  “AND ON A PERSONAL NOTE,” NORAH SAID TO Hollie, “the only way I ever found to make Raymond more attentive was when I was halfway out of the relationship. Then he tried to keep me in.”

  Hollie rolled her eyes. “That was because of your book—Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  “I know,” Norah said. She’d been talking to Hollie long enough to worm her way around most of the woman’s anger, all of which was Raymond Kline- inspired and completely misplaced. “But it wasn’t all about my book.” She looked over to where Trip was scowling and fidgeting, antsy to be on his way. “Men like to pursue, it’s hardwired into their DNA.”

  “So I should let him pursue? What if he doesn’t?”

  “Then he’s not really interested and you’re better off without him.”

  Hollie’s face fell. “It doesn’t feel that way.”

  “I understand, but not everyone we fall in love with is right for us. Women are particularly good at making some man the center of their life and ignoring anything that points to him only sticking around because it’s convenient, and the first time someone better”—she used air quotes—“comes along he’ll be gone. There are signs, Hollie, and one of them is when you have to play games to keep him interested.”

  “But your book—”

  “Says the same thing. There are actions you can take to get a man who’s already interested to ask you out, or to make a stale relationship fresh again. And if he has one foot out the door, there are steps you can take to decide if he’s moved on or just getting restless.

  “But you have to be able to tell the difference, and you have to let him go if that’s the right course of action.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  Norah’s eyes shifted to Trip again. “Trust me, I know it’s frightening and agonizing to make these kinds of choices when your heart is involved. But holding on to someone who doesn’t want to be held is only going to hurt more in the long run.”

  Hollie crossed her arms, not completely ready to accept that one yet.

  “And you really ought to think about why you’re following us,” Norah added, glancing at Trip again, practically vibrating with impatience now. “Is it about me or the story?”

  “Oh, it’s about the story,” Hollie said, no doubt, no hesitation, “especially now that you’ve cleared my mind about Raymond.”

  “Great.” Norah blew out a sigh. “Let’s keep that between us, okay?”

  Trip came to join them. “If the bitch session is over—” They both turned on him, and he clamped his mouth shut over the rest of that crankiness. “Unfortunate turn of phrase,” he said. “Can we go now?”

  “Are you good?” Norah asked Hollie.

  “Let me put it this way,” Trip put in, not giving Hollie the floor, “we leave now or I unleash Lurch on you.”

  Sure enough, Lurch was a few feet behind Trip, sending Norah dirty looks. She dropped her eyes to his crotch and he half hunched.

  “Damn it, Norah”—Trip took her by the elbow and pulled her away from Hollie, lowering his voice—“don’t you have any sense of urgency?”

  “Of course I do. I just don’t like to be threatened.”

  He grinned. “I wouldn’t really have set him loose.”

  “I know.” She headed off toward the train station, Lurch and Hollie following along behind.

  “Fuck,” he said, “the least you could have done with all that jawing is talk her down from stalker mode.”

  “I tried. She’s persistent.”

  “Great, let’s all have tea and finger sandwiches to celebrate.”

  “More like cosmos at a club opening. Don’t you watch Sex and the City?”

  “No heterosexual male watches Sex and the City—at least not with the volume up.”

  They arrived at the sta
tion, and since the wait was about fifteen minutes Norah went back to the cafeteria for takeout and soft drinks. Hollie tagged along.

  When the train came they all hopped on board, Norah and Trip in front, eating pretzels and slurping Coke, Hollie and Lurch a few seats behind them—far enough that Lurch couldn’t wrap his hands around Norah’s neck. They all trooped through the exit, and crossed the street to the parking structure. Hollie’s rental car, a white Ford Focus, was parked right next to Trip’s silver sedan. The sedan’s tires were flat as pancakes.

  “Wow, that’s too bad,” Hollie said, grinning from ear to ear.

  Trip opened the trunk of his car, pulled out the tire iron, and lifted it above the rear window of Hollie’s rental.

  “Hey,” she screeched, yelling, “do something” at Lurch.

  Lurch shrugged his shoulders, which technically followed Hollie’s instructions, but didn’t go very far toward stopping Trip, who held out his free hand and said, “Keys,” the tire iron still poised to strike.

  “No way.”

  “Hand them over or you can pony up for a new window on this car, and then I’m going to hotwire it, so you’ll be buying a new steering column, too.”

  Hollie opened her purse, but she pulled out her cell phone. “I’m calling the police.”

  “Go ahead,” Trip said. “Call the local news while you’re at it. Let’s tell everyone you’re following us around while we search for fifty million dollars in stolen goods. I always wanted to be the grand marshal of my own private parade.”

  Hollie’s face turned red, a vein in her forehead throbbing. She glared at Lurch, who did a great job of standing in place and ignoring her. “Fine,” she finally huffed out, handing Trip the keys to the Focus.

  Trip beeped it open and got in. Norah sent Hollie an apologetic look and got in, too, or tried to. She had to take the package out from under her shirt before she could bend in the middle.

  “Don’t tell me you’re buying that pathetic act she’s putting on.”

  “Not entirely, but I can tell you she knows enough about Raymond for me to believe she was involved with him. And it answers a lot of questions, like why she was angry with me from the start, and why she’s following us around now. She thinks she’s helping Raymond get the loot for the college.”