by MF Bishop
Chapter Seventy Three
Bobby couldn't believe it. He sat on the asphalt and looked at the spot where the Lincoln had been. Alexa's purse spilled its contents onto the dirty pavement, but Alexa was gone.
Pushing himself to his feet, Bobby winced in pain. He was scratched and bruised and the elbow of his brand new Grigori sports coat was torn beyond repair. His knee was hurting again.
The short, middle aged guard pulled at Bobby's good sleeve and spoke in high pitched Spanish.
"Uh," Bobby said, "uh, thanks, thanks. I gotta go. Really. Thanks a lot." The guard clutched his shotgun in the hand that wasn't hanging onto Bobby. Pulled his sleeve away, Bobby retrieved Alexa's purse. The keys to her truck were lying beside it, mixed in with lipstick and used Kleenex. The guard followed him to the Astro, pouring out a stream of excited Spanish.
Unable to understand a word, Bobby left him there, holding his shotgun in one hand. He was still talking and waving his free arm as Bobby turned into the street.
Somehow, Bobby realized, he had to follow them, get Alexa back. He felt in her purse and found her gun. He drove slowly down the street until he reached the corner. He stopped. Which way to go? He couldn't think. A car pulled up behind him and honked. What could he do? His hands were shaking. He gripped the wheel tightly, but he was shaking so hard it vibrated. The car honked again, then roared around him.
Chapter Seventy Four
Moving slowly, hoping that Lonnie was paying more attention to his argument than to her, Alexa twisted her hands under her side. She was wearing plastic handcuffs, which gave her a little leeway with her hands. It was hard work and the pieces of glass on the seat sliced into her arms.
Mel made another wrong turn and they were lost. Lonnie found a Washington map in the glove compartment and directed them back on course. Alexa strained every muscle. Her arms were slippery with blood and sweat. She felt the computer through the thin cloth of her pants. What did she have to do? She ransacked her memory, sorting through scraps of the conversation with Bobby. Press the bottom stud...that was the computer. Then it was the next one, because the only two buttons she used were right next to each other.
"There," Mel said, "I remember that statue. We're getting close."
"I hate this town," Lonnie replied, "I'll be damn glad when I'm back on the plane."
Alexa tried to hurry carefully. Her fingers kept losing the computer in the folds of her pants. She could feel the studs, but they were hard to tell apart. Could she get her hand in her pocket? Not a chance. Just pay attention, concentrate on the feel, and ignore those assholes. Don't think about time running out. Don't think about elephants. She chuckled in spite of herself. Ok, maybe that was it! She pressed gently with the side of one finger, slipped off, found the button again, pressed and heard a faint beep. Mel and Lonnie were arguing and didn't notice. Alexa gasped for air and realized she had been holding her breath.