pain in her side and her sprained shoulder
made her wince and cry out as she searched for her evening bag on
the floor of the car. The gold chain strap was wedged down and
wrapped around the seat belt anchor. Clarissa tugged at it
desperately despite her pain. With every freight car that rattled
by she knew that her time was running out.
"Damn it, come on!" she cried as she gave a
final, wrenching pull on the purse strap. It snapped with a force
and one end stung her on the cheek. It took only seconds before she
had it unwound.
Once out of the car she began to run. The
street was dark except for the lights on the exteriors of the
buildings and warehouses. She sought a place to hide, a hole to
crawl into where he could not find her. There was nothing. Only
fences and gates with chain locks, empty parking lots and dark,
unlit offices. There were no security guards that she could see, no
one working late on a Friday night. A guard dog behind one of the
fences growled menacingly and she begged him in a hushed whisper
not to bark. He seemed to sense her need and followed her to the
end of his territory with only his teeth barred.
She moved on, aware of the hollow sound of her
high heels clicking on the pavement. Then she stopped, pressed
herself into the shadow of a brick-faced manufacturing building,
and looked back. The train had passed and the broken sections of
the crossing arms were rising. The Cadillac's headlights were
already moving toward the disabled Jaguar. Clarissa watched Marco's
figure as he surveyed the empty car. The prayer was quick and
pleading that he search for her on the opposite side of the street.
He turned and she saw the glint of his gun in the moonlight. He
scanned the night with methodical precision, then started right
toward Clarissa.
"What are you doing here?" the gruff voice
made her jump and a little cry escaped her lips. "You'd better move
on. There's not much business for your type in this
neighborhood."
"Oh, Lord, no. Please. "I'm not...I need to
use a phone. My car..."
She pointed toward the railroad crossing. The
security guard stepped out of the shadows and looked down the road.
He holstered his gun and scratched his bald head.
"Thought I heard something a while ago," he
said. "Looks like you had yourself a time. Car break down on the
track or something?"
"Yes, yes it did. Is there a phone I can use?"
She could see Marco moving in and out of the shadows and Clarissa
could hardly stand still. She wanted to bolt and run but she needed
to get inside the building. The guard was still looking at her
skeptically. "To call my husband. We were supposed to meet at a
party. He'll be worried."
“You no got no cell?”
“I..ah.I think it’s still in my car. Probably
not much good now.”
"Alright, come with me."
The guard led her to a rear door, unlocked it,
let her enter the dark corridor ahead of him, and then relocked the
door. He pointed to a closed door marked "security office" and
pushed it open for her. He reached around and snapped on the light
and motioned to a paper littered desk.
"You can use that phone for a local call. Dial
nine first."
"Thank you." Clarissa sat down in the faded
green leather chair, most of which was held together with dirty
silver duct tape.
"I'll be out in the warehouse for a few
minutes. It's through that door over there. Just yell when you're
finished. I'll let you back out."
Clarissa sat for a moment and pressed the
heels of her palms tight into her eyes. It helped release the
tension. She was inside and safe for the moment. Her immediate
problem was that she had a phone and no one to call. She could try
Hugo’s roommate again but didn’t think that she would get anywhere
with that. Dubai, the headquarters of American Oil Co., was not
exactly a local number. She had to reach Andrew. She had to find a
place to hold up for a few days until her brother could get her a
plane ticket. There was only one other person in the city she could
call.
She pulled
made her wince and cry out as she searched for her evening bag on
the floor of the car. The gold chain strap was wedged down and
wrapped around the seat belt anchor. Clarissa tugged at it
desperately despite her pain. With every freight car that rattled
by she knew that her time was running out.
"Damn it, come on!" she cried as she gave a
final, wrenching pull on the purse strap. It snapped with a force
and one end stung her on the cheek. It took only seconds before she
had it unwound.
Once out of the car she began to run. The
street was dark except for the lights on the exteriors of the
buildings and warehouses. She sought a place to hide, a hole to
crawl into where he could not find her. There was nothing. Only
fences and gates with chain locks, empty parking lots and dark,
unlit offices. There were no security guards that she could see, no
one working late on a Friday night. A guard dog behind one of the
fences growled menacingly and she begged him in a hushed whisper
not to bark. He seemed to sense her need and followed her to the
end of his territory with only his teeth barred.
She moved on, aware of the hollow sound of her
high heels clicking on the pavement. Then she stopped, pressed
herself into the shadow of a brick-faced manufacturing building,
and looked back. The train had passed and the broken sections of
the crossing arms were rising. The Cadillac's headlights were
already moving toward the disabled Jaguar. Clarissa watched Marco's
figure as he surveyed the empty car. The prayer was quick and
pleading that he search for her on the opposite side of the street.
He turned and she saw the glint of his gun in the moonlight. He
scanned the night with methodical precision, then started right
toward Clarissa.
"What are you doing here?" the gruff voice
made her jump and a little cry escaped her lips. "You'd better move
on. There's not much business for your type in this
neighborhood."
"Oh, Lord, no. Please. "I'm not...I need to
use a phone. My car..."
She pointed toward the railroad crossing. The
security guard stepped out of the shadows and looked down the road.
He holstered his gun and scratched his bald head.
"Thought I heard something a while ago," he
said. "Looks like you had yourself a time. Car break down on the
track or something?"
"Yes, yes it did. Is there a phone I can use?"
She could see Marco moving in and out of the shadows and Clarissa
could hardly stand still. She wanted to bolt and run but she needed
to get inside the building. The guard was still looking at her
skeptically. "To call my husband. We were supposed to meet at a
party. He'll be worried."
“You no got no cell?”
“I..ah.I think it’s still in my car. Probably
not much good now.”
"Alright, come with me."
The guard led her to a rear door, unlocked it,
let her enter the dark corridor ahead of him, and then relocked the
door. He pointed to a closed door marked "security office" and
pushed it open for her. He reached around and snapped on the light
and motioned to a paper littered desk.
"You can use that phone for a local call. Dial
nine first."
"Thank you." Clarissa sat down in the faded
green leather chair, most of which was held together with dirty
silver duct tape.
"I'll be out in the warehouse for a few
minutes. It's through that door over there. Just yell when you're
finished. I'll let you back out."
Clarissa sat for a moment and pressed the
heels of her palms tight into her eyes. It helped release the
tension. She was inside and safe for the moment. Her immediate
problem was that she had a phone and no one to call. She could try
Hugo’s roommate again but didn’t think that she would get anywhere
with that. Dubai, the headquarters of American Oil Co., was not
exactly a local number. She had to reach Andrew. She had to find a
place to hold up for a few days until her brother could get her a
plane ticket. There was only one other person in the city she could
call.
She pulled
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