wiggled the offended fingers like they might never
work correctly again. Since Dave was always gung ho to save people, she figured
playing the wounded bird would raise his defenses on her behalf.
He stepped up to her and examined the fingers,
along with her pouting lower lip. “We can’t have that now, can we?”
“I don’t like your friends,” she whispered.
“I know. But they’re…useful. And right now, I need
useful.”
She nodded and didn’t bother pulling her hand from
his. “Are they out yet?”
“Who?”
She tapped her ear, then pointed to his where the
earpiece had been. “Shawn and the other guy. Are they out yet?”
“Ah, no. Not yet.” He pretended to think. “How
about we get you to Dorothy, so the two of you can wait for him together?”
“How about we don't?” She smiled and waited for
his next trick. The moment she'd left Shawn behind, she'd stopped expecting to
see him again. She'd anticipated the sound of gunshots before she and Patchy
ever reached the elevator. And she had every reason to expect either the goon
of the two goons they passed would have grabbed her. It was an actual miracle
they hadn’t.
But there she was, chatting with Dave, still
reasonably free. Everything now was just a bonus. But it was always hard to
know what to do with extra time. Like an extra day on vacation when you've
already seen all the sights and there's nothing much left to do but eat and
wait for time to pass.
But she could still pester Dave. Make it hard for
him to harm her, but make it hell on him for leaving Shawn to Lacrosse, which
she was pretty sure he had. It was a wonder, really, that he even cared to get
her out of the hotel. He had Dorothy Jean, the golden goose. What did he really
need her for?
Then she had it.
To hurt Shawn. He knew she meant something to him.
He wanted them apart. Not out of jealousy. Just a guy thing. A competition. And
Dave had fixed the game. He'd outnumbered his old friend and stolen something
he valued.
Which made her even more determined to make him
wish he hadn't.
Of course she'd go along with him, eventually, in
order to get to Dorothy Jean and protect her as best she could. But first…
He closed one eye against the brightness of the
sun and glanced at the waiting vehicle. “Would you care to sit in the van,
babe? We may be waiting a while.”
“Nope,” she said cheerfully. “I'm fine. Too much
sitting around the hotel already, you know?” She looked around the parking lot.
“In fact, I think I'll stretch my legs a little while we wait.”
With her backpack still secured behind her, she
jogged back to the street, knowing it was probably giving Dave a heart attack
to watch her. When she hit the sidewalk, she turned, ran across the opening,
then back into the parking lot to jog around the perimeter.
He watched every step, as did Patchy, or Gammon,
or whatever his name was. She imagined there was probably another Beanie Boy in
the van watching her too.
The black wig bounced on her head and slipped
loose. She reached up and yanked it off without missing a step. But she wasn't
stupid enough to go all the way to the street with her own light hair either,
not with the whole city looking for the hundred thousand dollars on her head,
so she cut straight across the driveway the second time around. She could
almost hear Dave and the Boys sigh with relief.
It was a pathetically small parking lot, and she’d
been tragically out of shape before Hot Neighbor ever blew threw her wall. Two
full circuits around and she was winded. But with all those eyes on her, she
wasn't about to give up already. So she pushed herself by trying to imagine
Lacrosse was right behind her. On the straight-aways, she ran as fast as she
could. She had to watch her step as she came up on the driveway again, so she
didn't accidentally dash out in front of a car, though. She peeked around the
edge of the building...
And screamed.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
She blamed her response on the
work correctly again. Since Dave was always gung ho to save people, she figured
playing the wounded bird would raise his defenses on her behalf.
He stepped up to her and examined the fingers,
along with her pouting lower lip. “We can’t have that now, can we?”
“I don’t like your friends,” she whispered.
“I know. But they’re…useful. And right now, I need
useful.”
She nodded and didn’t bother pulling her hand from
his. “Are they out yet?”
“Who?”
She tapped her ear, then pointed to his where the
earpiece had been. “Shawn and the other guy. Are they out yet?”
“Ah, no. Not yet.” He pretended to think. “How
about we get you to Dorothy, so the two of you can wait for him together?”
“How about we don't?” She smiled and waited for
his next trick. The moment she'd left Shawn behind, she'd stopped expecting to
see him again. She'd anticipated the sound of gunshots before she and Patchy
ever reached the elevator. And she had every reason to expect either the goon
of the two goons they passed would have grabbed her. It was an actual miracle
they hadn’t.
But there she was, chatting with Dave, still
reasonably free. Everything now was just a bonus. But it was always hard to
know what to do with extra time. Like an extra day on vacation when you've
already seen all the sights and there's nothing much left to do but eat and
wait for time to pass.
But she could still pester Dave. Make it hard for
him to harm her, but make it hell on him for leaving Shawn to Lacrosse, which
she was pretty sure he had. It was a wonder, really, that he even cared to get
her out of the hotel. He had Dorothy Jean, the golden goose. What did he really
need her for?
Then she had it.
To hurt Shawn. He knew she meant something to him.
He wanted them apart. Not out of jealousy. Just a guy thing. A competition. And
Dave had fixed the game. He'd outnumbered his old friend and stolen something
he valued.
Which made her even more determined to make him
wish he hadn't.
Of course she'd go along with him, eventually, in
order to get to Dorothy Jean and protect her as best she could. But first…
He closed one eye against the brightness of the
sun and glanced at the waiting vehicle. “Would you care to sit in the van,
babe? We may be waiting a while.”
“Nope,” she said cheerfully. “I'm fine. Too much
sitting around the hotel already, you know?” She looked around the parking lot.
“In fact, I think I'll stretch my legs a little while we wait.”
With her backpack still secured behind her, she
jogged back to the street, knowing it was probably giving Dave a heart attack
to watch her. When she hit the sidewalk, she turned, ran across the opening,
then back into the parking lot to jog around the perimeter.
He watched every step, as did Patchy, or Gammon,
or whatever his name was. She imagined there was probably another Beanie Boy in
the van watching her too.
The black wig bounced on her head and slipped
loose. She reached up and yanked it off without missing a step. But she wasn't
stupid enough to go all the way to the street with her own light hair either,
not with the whole city looking for the hundred thousand dollars on her head,
so she cut straight across the driveway the second time around. She could
almost hear Dave and the Boys sigh with relief.
It was a pathetically small parking lot, and she’d
been tragically out of shape before Hot Neighbor ever blew threw her wall. Two
full circuits around and she was winded. But with all those eyes on her, she
wasn't about to give up already. So she pushed herself by trying to imagine
Lacrosse was right behind her. On the straight-aways, she ran as fast as she
could. She had to watch her step as she came up on the driveway again, so she
didn't accidentally dash out in front of a car, though. She peeked around the
edge of the building...
And screamed.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
She blamed her response on the
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