by Gail Dayton
"Why? Afraid you'll step on something?" He leaned sideways and with his right foot, raked the screw in reach of his left hand, then dipped the other way and picked it up.
"If you make yourself too useful around here, I might decide I want you to stick around longer."
That was exactly what he wanted, but Eli wasn't sure he dared say it, so he just shrugged. Then his cell phone started ringing, its sound muffled by all the magazines it hid behind.
Marilyn's head came up as Eli shoved to his feet. "Is the TV on?" she said. "I hear a phone, but it's not this phone."
"It's not the TV." He hobbled across the room, dug out his phone and punched the button. "This is Court. Talk."
"Court." The smooth, dark voice made Eli go cold all over.
There was only one way that man could have gotten this number. What had Teresa gotten herself into?
"What do you want, Flash?"
"What do you think I want? I want the boy. I'm told you know where he is."
Eli didn't answer. He didn't see any advantage either in admitting or denying knowledge.
"Are you going to give me what I want, Court?"
"Why should I?"
"I'll trade you the woman for the boy."
Eli went colder. "What I said. Why should I? How do I know you even have her?" He turned his back on Marilyn, knowing she was listening to every word. "How do you know I have the boy?"
"I got this number, didn't I? She gave it up easy."
"So?" He felt sick. Why hadn't Tee gone back where she was safe? But he couldn't let any of it show in his voice. He kept it steady, ice cold. "That doesn't mean shit. There's plenty of places you could have got this number."
"I want the boy, Court." Flash's voice was colder than Eli's. "I'll kill the bitch if I don't get him."
"What's that to me?" Eli wiped the sweat from his forehead with the edge of the sling, then pushed the cast hard into his churning stomach, hoping the pressure would help. He had to keep it together. "She dumped me years ago."
"She's still a nice piece of ass, once she cleans up some. Why should you care who has the kid?"
"I don't," he lied. "I can't give him to you because I don't have him." That much was true.
"Don't fuck with me, Court. If you don't have him, you know where he is. You fuck with me, you pay. Or didn't my friends with the tire tools convince you of that? If you don't care what happens to the bitch, why'd you warn me away from her?"
"I owed her. But we're done now. That was it, my last favor. What happens to her after that is on her head. She's in trouble now, she's shit out of luck."
A wavering scream sounded through the phone, ending in pitiful sobs. It could have been any woman, but Eli's gut told him it was Teresa. He bit his tongue to keep the protest inside. Any sound would only amuse Flash. Eli tasted metal and knew he'd bit it through, but he'd be damned if he'd give the son of a bitch the satisfaction of knowing it.
"I am going to kill her, Court," Flash said. "Piece by piece, if you don't bring me the boy by midnight. I know you. You always had to ride to the rescue back when we were kids. Even if it got you a kick in the face. You haven't changed."
"Neither have you."
Flash laughed. "Fuckin' great, ain't it?" His laugh cut off like a light going out. "Midnight, Court. I'll be waiting."
The phone went dead in Eli's hand.
"Fuck!" Eli spun around and threw the phone into the couch. It hit and bounced off, bouncing again off the living area rug to go spinning under the kitchen table as he kept swearing.
"Eli, what's wrong?" Marilyn's voice, her touch on his arm broke through the black haze of rage darkening his mind. God, she didn't need to be mixed up in this.
"Nothing." He pulled away from her. Which did about as much good as he'd expected.
She followed, got a better grip on his arm. "Bullshit. What boy were you talking about? Who is 'she'? What's going on?"
"It doesn't involve you, okay?" He tried to pull back again, but couldn't. She held on too tight, moved in too close. God, he was going to get her hurt.
"Eli, let me help."
"Haven't you helped enough?" He regretted snapping at her the minute he did it. He didn't mean that the way it sounded. "I mean--aren't you tired of helping? I'm sorry--I just--there's nothing you can do. There's nothing I can do--well, except for something I won't--would never--"
"What? Tell me. What's happened?" She tugged gently on his arm and he followed.
He let her lead him to the couch, sat down at her urging and held the hand she offered.
"Talk to me, Eli."
He slumped back into the sofa. Might as well get it over with. She wouldn't let up until he told her everything.
"This wasn't a random thing, like I thought." Eli waved a hand at his casts. "A woman I used to know--we were on the street together--she was having trouble with this guy--"
"Flash?"
Damn, she listened to everything. "Yeah. So I came back to help her out. Found a safe place for her and her kid--the boy--Pete--and told Flash to leave 'em alone." He sighed.
"I guess this--" he waved at his casts again, "was his first answer. Now he's got Teresa and he wants to trade her for Pete. But I can't do that."
"Of course you can't."
Eli looked at her then, startled by her instant agreement. "It's not because I don't have the kid. I know where he is. I could go get him. Not by midnight, I don't think, but I could do it. But I won't."
"I never thought you would." Her absolute belief in what she just said showed in her face. She truly believed. In him.
And he'd already failed. "So when I don't show up at midnight with Pete, Flash is going to kill Teresa."
"Are you sure? I mean, maybe he's violent, but would he actually kill her?"
"Oh, yeah. He's killed before. He likes killing. It's one of his favorite things." Eli knew what the bastard's most favorite thing was, but he intended never to share that with Marilyn.
"What are you going to do?"
"What can I do?" He'd been racking his brain ever since Teresa had called last week.
"Call the police."
"The minute Flash smells the hint of a cop nosing around, Tee's dead."
Marilyn bit her lip, obviously thinking hard, as hard as he'd been for over a week. Maybe a fresh brain could come up with fresh ideas. "What if they don't have to nose around? What if they knew where she was and could go in--Bam!--and get her?"
"How would they know that?" He didn't understand her thinking. It didn't make sense.
"You could tell them."
"I could." He nodded, letting the sarcasm out. "If I knew. But I don't. I don't have a clue."
"Could you find out? Go out and look, maybe? Quietly, without upsetting anything? I mean, you probably have some idea of where she might be."
Eli's eyebrow drew itself down as he got his first inkling of where she might be going with this. "How am I going to do that? It's a little tough controlling a Harley with only one good arm, forget the one good leg."
"I could drive you."
Ten
***
"No." The word came out of his mouth almost before she finished making the suggestion. He was right--he damn sure did not like the idea. He was not going to expose Marilyn to any of this. Except she was already exposed. She knew about it. He wasn't letting her any deeper into the sordid mess that was his life. "Hell, no."
"Why not? If we don't do something, he's going to kill her. Isn't he?"
"It's not we, Marilyn, it's me. I'm the one who has to do something. Teresa is my friend, not yours."
Marilyn's temper flared hot. "Who gives a shit whose friend she is?"
She could see her descent into vulgar language shocked Eli. Good. She wanted to shock him, wanted him to see her as something other than a helpless woman needing protection from the ugly realities of the world. She'd had her own share of reality already, and Eli's attempt to put up a wall between them had her spitting mad.
"
A woman's life is in danger," she said. "Whoever, whatever she is, she doesn't deserve to be murdered. I can't just sit here doing nothing and wait for her to die. Can you?"
Eli wiped a hand across his mouth, like he was trying to wipe away a bad taste, his eyes dark with anger. "Is that what you think?"
"No. I can see it's eating you up inside, thinking you can't help her. It's doing me the same way."
"It's dangerous."
"So is driving down the freeway. That's how my husband died. And I still drive."
Eli looked away, hiding his eyes from her. Was he considering it? She didn't know whether to argue further or keep quiet and let him think.
His forehead creased as he scowled. "I don't like the idea of you down there in the kind of places I'd have to go."
She didn't much like the idea either, but it was necessary.
"We might not find anything," he said, finally looking back at her. "She might die anyway."
She met his gaze, trying to hide the combination of relief and fear she felt--relief that he seemed to be giving in and fear of what could happen now that he had. "I know," she said. "But at least we'll have tried. We'll have done something."
Eli held her gaze a long moment. Marilyn willed him to see her determination. Then again--maybe he couldn't. "If you don't come with me, I'll go by myself. Who knows what kind of trouble I could get into?"
"Don't be stupid. You don't have a clue where to look."
"I can start where you were mugged. One of the kids at the youth center might know something."
His scowl came back and he swore. "Get your coat."
She waited for Eli to dress first, helping him pull the T-shirt on over his cast.
"At least your car will blend in with the neighborhood," Eli muttered as he got in. He angled his crutch into the space in front of him, working with it until it wasn't wedged in tight anywhere.
"Why don't you put that in the back seat, like you did last time?" Marilyn pulled out of the tiny lot and headed for the freeway. "Where do I need to go?"
"Start out on the street where we met. Tee won't be there, but that bar is where Flash hangs most of the time--his center of operations. I don't think she'll be too far away." He didn't move the crutch, just gripped it tighter.
"Isn't that in your way?"
"This?" He hefted the crutch. "It's exactly where I want it. Aluminum bends, but it does the job."
Marilyn had to think a minute before she realized the "job" he meant referred to using the medical device as a weapon, and she shivered. Not from the cold.
She wasn't changing her mind, if that was his intent, to scare her into going home. Even if he was simply holding onto the crutch as a weapon because it was his first, instinctive thought--which scared her a whole lot more--she would still drive Eli where he needed to go.
Her reflexes were shot and her reaction time stunk. She would be a terrible getaway driver. But Eli would be even slower. Probably. Maybe not. Maybe all she could provide was moral support, which he probably didn't need or want from her, but he was getting it anyway.
"Marilyn?"
"What?" she snapped.
"Are you okay? Are you...well, feeling okay?"
"You mean, like am I sick or something?" What was he getting at?
He made a face, shook his head. "No. Not--you looked upset."
"I am. I'm mad enough to chew nails. I'm mad and I'm scared and I'm--I am upset, okay?"
"Okay." He did that male thing when confronted by an angry woman--shut his mouth and tried to become invisible.
"Mostly I'm mad at this Flash person, but you get some of it. I know you don't want me here, but that's too damn bad. I'm here and you're not getting rid of me. Live with it."
Eli fell silent as they entered the Squirrel Hill tunnel. Halfway through, he spoke. "It's smart to be scared. It keeps you on your toes, helps you focus, see what's around you. As long as you don't let it take you over--"
"Fine." Marilyn held onto her anger with all her mental grip. She had a feeling that if she let it go, the fear might just do that.
They'd emerged from the tunnel and hit heavier traffic before Eli spoke again. "Why are you still mad at me? You're here, aren't you? You won."
"But you'd rather I wasn't, right?" Marilyn put on her brakes when the car in front did, hoping the guy behind her could stop in time.
"You couldn't get hurt if you were home."
"Sure." She believed him. But was that really why he didn't want--? Oh, never mind. Again she could feel Eli staring. It made her skin feel prickly.
"Is all this attitude about Teresa?" He sounded surprised. "Look, there's nothi--"
"None of my business." It wasn't. She didn't care a bit who this Teresa might be to Eli. "I understand that having me along might make things uncomfortable between you, but we have to find her first. Make sure she's alive. You can explain later, make her understand."
"There's nothing to explain because there's nothing like that between us. Never was." Eli fidgeted. "Okay, yeah, we were lovers. Long time ago. Off and on. But we weren't ever in love, nothing like that. We're friends. She's the--well, there are things that go back years. I owe her. Even if she can't stop screwing up her life."
Marilyn felt her face heat and silently cursed the blush. The relief she felt at Eli's totally unnecessary explanation embarrassed her. It was endurable as long as nobody knew she was embarrassed, and that stupid blush had to go and let the whole world know it.
Besides, she didn't care if this Teresa woman was Eli's lover or not. It wasn't like Marilyn was interested in him that way, because she wasn't. No matter how much Eli's little proposition skittered around inside her brain. She had to lock it and everything else away. Right now, the important thing was finding Teresa.
"It doesn't matter," Marilyn said. "I don't care. What matters is keeping her alive." She took the exit leading to the youth center, where she hadn't been coming for the last few weeks, since Eli had asked her not to.
As they moved away from the freeway, away from downtown, the buildings got grimmer and grayer, despite the blood-red brick construction of many of them. There was the fried chicken place Marilyn stopped at occasionally, with the bulletproof barrier between the employees and their customers. Several lights and a turn or two further, and they reached the street with the youth center at mid-block and the bar around the corner--Nicky's--where Eli'd been attacked.
"You're not going in there, are you?" Marilyn pulled the car into a parking space down the block as Eli directed, facing the bar's front door. "Not like that."
"No." He scowled down at his casts a moment. "Not like this. We'll just watch. See what we can see."
Rain misted down, blurring the windshield and the streets outside, no more than a veil making the air heavy and icy cold. The car was minimally warmer. After half an hour of sitting, watching almost no one go by, Marilyn wanted to turn on the engine and warm up, but Eli wouldn't let her. A running engine on a parked car would be too noticeable.
She pulled the thick quilt from the emergency kit in the back seat and spread it over herself and Eli. He had to be cold with his pants leg split like that and only a sock over his left toes. A few more minutes and she was scooting closer to him, hoping to share some body warmth.
"Come here." Eli raised his good arm, next to her, and put it around her. "You're cold."
"Not so bad," she lied as she huddled next to him.
"I'm cold. Get over here." He pulled her in close. If not for the crutch angling across the floor, she'd have been in his lap.
The rap on the window made her jump as it brought back memories of parking at the shuttered steel mill before they pulled it down, and cops rousting all the amorous teens. But it wasn't a cop peering through the fogged up glass at them.
Eli turned Marilyn's face into his neck and pulled the quilt higher. Was he trying to hide her? Not a bad idea, she realized. She snuggled deeper into the quilt, letting her hair fall forward so she could peer through it.
Eli powered down the window--his was one of the two that still worked--and looked up at the narrow, young-old face of the man outside. Aging acne scars mixed with faded freckles to give him a mottled look, and stringy red-blond hair stuck out stiffly from beneath the black knit cap he wore.
"Dusty. What's doin'?" Eli nodded in greeting.
"Nothin' much." Dusty squatted beside the car and folded his arms on the open window. "Just got out of rehab."
"So whatcha doin' down here? Lookin' to score?" Eli held Marilyn tight, his hand cupping her head.
"Nah," Dusty said. "I'm stayin' clean this time."
"Sure, Dust." Eli sounded like he actually believed him. Or maybe he just wanted to make Dusty think it.
"So where you been, Eli? Somebody said you went north, back after Fat Fred bought it."
"I did. Went north. Went west. Went south a while. Now I'm back for a while." Eli's hand moved on Marilyn's head until his fingers touched her cheek. "You seen the Flashman around?"
She shifted position, taking the quilt with her, so she could see Dusty's face better.
"Saw him earlier today."
"At Nicky's?"
"Yeah. Comin' out. I don't go in places like that no more."
"Anybody with him? With Flash? A woman?"
Dusty's thin lips pursed and his forehead creased as he thought. It took him a long time. "I think so."
"Teresa? You remember Teresa Howell, don't you? Used to dance over at Candyland? Was it her?"
Dusty thought again, then shook his head. "I don't think it was her. Teresa was always skinny, right? This woman had a set of gazongas on her out to here." He cupped the air a foot in front of his chest. "Not skinny. Not anywhere."
"Not Teresa then."
Marilyn could feel Eli's disappointment in the way he held her, tighter, like he wasn't going to misplace another woman.
He went on. "You got any idea where they might have been going? Flash and the woman?"
"There was a couple of guys too," Dusty said. "I think the woman was with one of them."
"You know where they were going?"
The other man shrugged. "Nope."
"Okay, Dusty. Thanks." Eli started to roll up the window.
"Hey, Eli, whatcha lookin' for Teresa for anyway?" Dusty backed up but didn't leave. "You got a woman right there."
