Trick Turn
Page 41
And she’d just found she could move her toe.
On the west side in Manhattan later that night, Isabel was backstage, Vargas standing alongside her. Issy was in costume as Mary Warren, Vargas in jeans and a blue vest top, her badge and gun on her hip, sunglasses resting on top of her head. There was also some neat bandaging around her forearm and hand from the acid burns she’d sustained at the house in Boston, but other than that, she looked as she always did.
Outside, she heard the murmuring from the audience die away as people began to settle, the play about to start.
‘I’m nervous,’ Isabel said, looking at her with wide eyes.
‘You’ve got nothing to be afraid of. You know your lines. We’ve gone over them fifty times. Everyone wants you to do well, kiddo.’
‘Yeah, but what if I screw up?’
‘You won’t.’ Vargas held Issy by the shoulders and looked at her. ‘Are you sick of being scared?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’
‘So am I. There’s nothing to be afraid of out there anymore.’ Vargas gave her a quick kiss and hug, then left through a side door to go out front. In the doorway, she stopped and turned back. ‘We love you.’
‘I love you too.’
Once Vargas was gone, Issy went up to the left side of the stage, easing the door shut behind her, some of her castmates looked at her as she joined them. Britney, the girl who’d been so mean to her in the cafeteria the day McGuinness had followed her here, gave her a smile, and Issy returned it.
When she’d shown up again in New York, as expected the initial reaction from some had been anger when it was clear they’d been duped, but then reports of what she’d been through and who had been coming after her started to circulate, and the ill-feeling dissipated. Soon after she’d arrived back, Shepherd had asked the parents of the kids in the theater program and her grade at high school to attend a meeting at a conference center, and there he’d explained why Isabel’s death had been faked.
Sanitised information had been given to the kids, and very soon, any remaining animosity had evaporated, particularly when Shepherd had also confirmed that any threats against the girl were at an end, for good. No retractions had been made in national news outlets either, who were now running with fresh stories. The New York Times had intended to skewer the Department again once they’d learned Issy’s so-called death was a hoax, but after the senior editor met with NYPD leadership, a deal had been struck and the story never went to print.
As far as Isabel was concerned, she’d been more concerned about losing her part in the play than facing any recriminations at her sudden reappearance. Her intense relief when the girl who’d been her understudy had been happy to step back and let Isabel retain her role had caused the NYPD team a lot of amusement. ‘Least she’s got her priorities straight,’ Vargas had noted to Archer. The performance was going ahead tonight, preceded by a minute’s silence in respect for the three men who’d died there, killed by a former carnival worker from Louisiana whose death had been a huge relief for many and not just law enforcement. The stage and curtain had been repaired, and with the events of that day now becoming a story of overcoming adversity, there wasn’t an empty seat in the house. Some people were there out of sheer curiosity, keen to see the daughter of a dead mobster who’d survived all these attempts on her life. However, despite Shepherd’s assurances, a handful of parents had withdrawn their children from the program, not wanting their kids associating with Isabel Vargas.
No-one understood that better than Issy herself.
In the wings, seeing no sign of the bullet-holes on the stage which had been repaired, she felt her heart racing. Her time was approaching.
Forty seconds later, she heard her cue and stepped out, feeling the lights on her. Ahead in the auditorium was nothing but darkness, and she felt hundreds of sets of eyes looking at her.
Watching her.
‘Oh Jesus,’ the actress playing Mercy said, but Isabel froze. The theater was silent.
Are you sick of being scared?
As she looked out into that darkness, she saw corridors in high-rises.
Men with automatic weapons, hunting her.
A former carnival worker turned serial killer, holding a knife, throwing it at her head.
That scarred enemy of her birth mother, who’d hated her so much she could never let it go, aiming a rifle at her and pulling the trigger.
But they were all gone. Beaten by people who were sitting out there, watching her. Watching out for her.
Who loved her.
For the first time since her family had died, she looked out into the darkness and didn’t fear it. ‘What’ll we do,’ she said loudly, from her diaphragm as Pete had showed her. ‘The whole village is out.’
Watching the girl say her lines with confidence after that brief hesitation, Archer smiled from where he was sitting at the back of the auditorium. Chalky was sitting beside him, having arrived from London the day before. He claimed he was owed a holiday and luckily for him, Cobb had agreed, only this time Chalky told Archer he hoped he got to the end of it without being shot at or stabbed. Archer had also texted Bellefonte just before the show, who’d promised he’d be in New York City tomorrow night for the next performance, strapped up and recovering from the knife wounds McGuinness had inflicted on him. His first vacation in years. Once the full facts of what had occurred at the park had come to light, NOPD had let Bellefonte keep his badge, and to Archer’s amusement, he’d told him he still wasn’t sure if he was relieved or sorry about that. The group still had questions to answer, but the situation they’d found themselves in and the girl’s survival carried a lot more weight than damaged rides or a toppled Ferris wheel.
A door at the back of the theater eased shut silently, and Vargas slid into the seat beside Archer. He glanced at her, and saw her eyes were welling up as she watched Issy on stage, saying her lines loudly and with confidence. The same reaction as at the girl’s mock funeral, but this time tears of relief.
Noticing him looking at her, her eyes met his, and moments later, their hands touched and fingers interlocked, as Archer gave her a smile.
With Chalky beside them, the pair watched Isabel own her part on the stage. The ghosts of Gino and Carla Lombardi, and the haunting effect their crimes had inflicted on their youngest child, were gone from her life forever. Her father’s enemies as well as her mother’s, no longer a threat to her.
The events she’d endured and overcome over the past few years proved that her parents didn’t decide who she was; she’d made that choice for herself. Her past was intertwined with theirs, inevitably.
But her present was hers, alone. And so was her future, with everything it might hold.
Whatever that was, she was finally ready to find out.
THE END
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About the author:
Born in Sydney, Australia and raised in England and Brunei, Tom Barber has always had a passion for writing and story-telling. It took him to Nottingham University, England, where he graduated in 2009 with a 2:1 BA Hons in English Studies. Post-graduation, Tom followed this by moving to New York City and completing the 2 Year Meisner Acting training programme at The William Esper Studio, furthering his love of acting and screen-writing.
Upon his return to the UK in late 2011, Tom set to work on his debut novel, Nine Lives, which has since become a five-star rated Amazon UK Kindle hit. The following books in the series, The Getaway, Blackout, Silent Night, One Way, Return Fire, Green Light, Last Breath, Jump Seat and Cleared Hot have been equally successful, garnering five-star reviews in the US, UK, France, Australia and Canada.
Trick Turn is the eleventh novel in the Sam Archer series.
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