In Plain Sight

by Barbara Block

  “Shut the fuck up,” the guy sitting next to me ordered. “You’ll find out soon enough.” He opened his jacket, took a .357 out of a shoulder holster, and pointed it in my direction.

  “Fine.” I certainly wasn’t going to argue with that. I sank back in the maroon upholstered seat and studied the guy with the gun. He had watery eyes, a receding hairline he’d compensated for with a ponytail, and teeth that hadn’t seen a dentist in a number of years.

  “What are you staring at?” he demanded.

  “Nothing.” I turned my gaze to the Baby On Board sign tacked to my window and tried to figure out who these lowlifes were and what they wanted from me. Obviously they didn’t want to rob me. Obviously this operation had been planned. But by whom?

  Suddenly I thought of Merlin and the dogs and the scene in the store with his gun, and things began to make more sense. While I was trying to put it all together the man with the gun leaned forward and nudged the driver with his elbow.

  “What do you think?” he asked. “You wanna stop for a little something extra?”

  “We’re too late,” he answered. “Maybe on the way back.” He turned and grinned at me in case I hadn’t gotten the message.

  It was the guy who’d come into the store a couple of days ago.

  “You!” I cried.

  “I told you to be careful.” He smirked before turning his attention back to the road.

  I wanted to kick myself. I was still berating myself when a police car sped by us.

  “Don’t even think about doing anything,” the guy next to me warned before I could move. And he jammed the muzzle of his gun into my ribs.

  “I got the message,” I said and looked out the window.

  We were passing Forman Avenue. Then we took a right on Waters. No one was on either street. No one would be on the surrounding blocks either. This was a business district. Everyone had gone home for the night. If I made a break for it, the guy with the gun would be able to pick me off with no trouble at all. Maybe they were going to do that anyway. Then I thought, No, even Merlin wouldn’t go that far. What they were going to do was take me somewhere and beat the shit out of me. That thought didn’t make me any happier than the first one had. The more I considered the possibilities, the more it seemed as if I didn’t have much to lose by trying to escape. I sat back and waited for an opportunity to jump.

  It came when we hit DePew. We were slowing down for a stop sign. I glanced at the guy beside me. He was busy studying a mole on his wrist.

  “The doctor said I should have this taken off,” he was telling the driver. “What do you think?” he asked him as I took a deep breath, said a silent prayer, and jumped.

  I landed on my feet, fell, scrambled up again and started running.

  Brakes squealed behind me.

  Then I heard someone screaming, “You dumb fuck, she’s getting away.”

  I didn’t turn around. I just kept going.

  I heard a pop to my right. Shit. They were shooting at me. I veered left and picked up my pace. Then I saw an alley and ducked into it. There was a Dumpster halfway down. I skirted the piles of debris and headed for it. It was small but big enough for me to hide in. Or it would have been if it hadn’t been padlocked. I cursed and looked around for something to smash the lock with. I’d just picked up a brick when I heard a car approaching.

  “There she is,” the driver yelled.

  The guy with the gun got out. He was about thirty pounds overweight and probably hadn’t seen the inside of a gym in years, but with the gun he was carrying he didn’t have to. I took off again. When I came to the end of the alley I made a left and went down Orange Avenue. I heard the man’s footsteps pounding after me. They formed a counterbeat to my own. I had to get off the street and I had to get off now. But there was nowhere to hide. All the buildings on either side were shut tight, locked up for the night.

  And then I thought about the Colony.

  It was three blocks away. If I could make it there, I’d be okay. The operative word was if.

  I kept going down the street, cut across a vacant parking lot, and went up the next block. By now I had a stitch in my side and my lungs were starting to ache. A garbage can to the right of me pinged as another bullet tore into it. Thank God the guy chasing me was a lousy shot. I put on a last burst of speed and tore down the pavement. Then I rounded the corner. The Colony was right there. As I made for the broken window I could hear the car coming up behind me. Dear God, let me do this, I prayed as I summoned up every last bit of reserve that I had and jumped through the window the police had taped up. I bumped into a chair and fell over. I kept going. I was in the third room by the time the two men came in. My heart was pounding; my side hurt so bad it had made me forget about my jaw. I couldn’t move if I wanted to. I just leaned against the wall sucking air and listening to their voices floating in the dark.

  “I’m gonna kill her,” the man who had been chasing me gasped out.

  “You know, you look like a tub of lard when you run,” the driver said. “You should go to the gym and lose that gut.”

  “Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” the man with the gun screamed.

  “Hey, lighten up. I was only kidding.” There was a brief pause. Then the driver said, “Jesus, will you look at this dump. They ought to knock it down.” His partner said something, but I couldn’t hear what. “Come on,” the driver went on, “let’s find the bitch and get out of here. I don’t want to be any later than I have to.”

  The papers and boxes and pills on the floor crackled and crunched as the men walked through the first room into the second. I crept into the fourth room as quietly as possible. I was halfway through it when I tripped over something.

  “She’s up ahead,” the guy with the gun cried.

  I ran into the next room. By now my eyes were beginning to get accustomed to the dark and I was able to make out shapes. If I remembered correctly, there were three or four more interconnecting rooms before there was an open door out into the hall. The suite must have been a doctor’s office, a doctor’s office with a big practice, I thought irrelevantly.

  “Come out, come out wherever you are,” the man with the gun sang.

  “Maybe we should call the boss,” the driver said.

  “Let him wait. It’ll do him good.”

  “No. He’ll be pissed. You call and tell him we got held up, then come back here.”

  “Whatever you say.” I could hear the guy start to walk away.

  “Hey, Tony, leave the .357 with me.” There was a pause, and then the driver said, “And see if we got a flashlight or something in the car. I don’t wanna be here all night.”

  “You got it,” Tony replied.

  “And hurry up.”

  His footsteps moved away. A little later I heard a scream.

  “Jesus, what’s happening?” the driver cried.

  “A rat bit me. A goddamned rat came up and bit my ankle. Just like that,” Tony cried. I began to feel more warmly toward the rodent population. “I gotta get to a hospital and get a rabies shot.”

  “You’re gonna get to a hospital if you don’t do what I tell you to,” the driver growled, and I heard the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked.

  I guess Tony heard it, too, because he started back toward the window. A moment later the footsteps fell silent. Tony must have climbed out.

  I stood there scarcely breathing, wondering what I should do. My heart was hammering in my chest so loudly it was amazing the driver didn’t hear it. The building creaked in the wind. Spots of color danced in front of my eyes. I closed them. A picture of Estrella sprawled out on the third-floor landing rose unbidden. I tried pushing it away, but it didn’t want to go. I kept seeing her vacant eyes staring into the blackness. A chill worked its way up my spine. If I wasn’t careful I’d end up that way, too. Only there’d be no one to find me. Except for the rats. I had to get out of here. I had to get out of here now. I took a step and tripped over a chair.

  “You’re
mine,” the driver cried from what sounded like two rooms away. Then he started toward me.

  Not if I can help it, I thought as my hand closed on the leg of the chair I’d just fallen over. I could hear him coming as I yanked on the chair leg. It gave slightly. I yanked some more. It began wobbling. Thank God the chair wasn’t well made. The leg came free just as the driver crashed through the doorway of the room I was in. I scrambled up and hit him with it. He went down on his knees, and I turned and groped my way out the door. I was three rooms down when I heard Tony climbing back in.

  “Hey, Richie,” he yelled. “I called Angie. He’s coming right over. He’s gonna bring us some flashlights. The batteries in the ones in your car are dead.”

  Richie groaned.

  “What’s the matter?” Tony demanded. “Why aren’t you answering me?”

  Richie groaned again. “The bitch hit me in the gut.”

  I cursed silently. I should have hit him in the head. Now I was boxed in. I couldn’t go forward and I couldn’t go back.

  “Be careful,” Richie went on between moans. “I think she doubled back. She’s in one of these rooms.”

  “Don’t worry,” Tony yelled. “I’ll get her.”

  “No,” Richie ordered. “Wait for Angie.” He started to retch.

  “I got the SIG,” Tony said, and I heard the sound of a clip being shoved into the nine millimeter. “She’s mine.” He started my way.

  I could hear desks and chairs being kicked aside as he came through the rooms.

  I got behind the door and waited. For some reason I’d grown very calm. My mind was detached, floating free. I was aware of every sound.

  Tony was in the second room.

  Then he was in the third.

  We were playing Blind Man’s Bluff for keeps.

  He halted in front of the fourth room. I could hear him breathing. I could smell the licorice.

  Finally he came inside.

  He’d taken two step when I hit him with the chair leg. He went sideways. I swung again. This time I got the side of his jaw. The gun went flying. He staggered and fell. I threw the chair leg down and ran like hell. I bumped into chairs and desks and boxes in my flight toward the window. Then suddenly it was there—my portal to freedom. I clambered through. I was three-quarters of the way out when I felt something hard and cold in the small of my back.

  “You really are a pain in the ass,” a man’s voice said.

  I remembered George had just said something similar to me.

  Then everything went black.

  Chapter 23

  I didn’t know where I was when I came to.

  At first I just lay on my side listening to someone moaning and wishing they’d shut the hell up.

  Then I realized that someone was me.

  A little while later the pain arrived, waves of it radiating from the back of my skull to my temples.

  It pulled me back from the brink of unconsciousness. I opened my eyes. All I saw was blackness. My heart began to pound. I put my hands up and touched something hard a couple of inches away from my face. I kept going. Whatever I was feeling was all around me. And then it hit me.

  Oh, my God, I thought. I’m in a coffin.

  I’ve been buried alive.

  A scream started building in my throat. It had just reached my mouth when I felt a lurch and smelled a whiff of gasoline. I giggled. Talk about losing it. Jesus. I was locked in the trunk of a car. Not that that was great, but it was a damned sight better than being six feet under. I sighed in relief and did a quick personal inventory. I ran my tongue over my teeth. They were all there. I moved my arms and legs and wiggled my fingers and toes. Aside from the throbbing in my head everything seemed to be in working order.

  I groaned again as the car went around a turn and tried to figure out what had happened. Someone—probably the guy called Angie—must have been waiting for me. When I appeared he’d knocked me over the head and thrown me in here. What I wanted to know was how he’d gotten to the Colony as fast as he had. Who was this guy anyway? Batman? When the next spasm of pain passed I put my hands up and pushed on the trunk lid. It didn’t budge. I pushed harder. Nothing. I began pounding on it. Then, despite my resolution not to, I began yelling. Nobody came. Finally I put my head back down and closed my eyes. I was too exhausted to do anything else. The next thing I knew someone was shaking me.

  “Get out,” a deep, raspy voice ordered.

  A shaft of pain shot through my skull. I gritted my teeth to keep from crying out.

  Someone shook me again. I wanted to tell him to leave me alone, but my lips didn’t want to form the words. When he shook me for the third time I tried moving my legs, but I couldn’t. They’d stiffened up. Then I felt someone tugging at me. A moment later I was standing. Everything started to spin. My legs buckled, and I stumbled onto my hands and knees, and threw up.

  “Jesus,” the raspy voice cried. “She almost got my new shoes.”

  “I told you you shouldn’t have hit her so hard,” another voice said.

  I looked up. Two men were standing over me. I didn’t recognize either one.

  “That’s the trouble with you,” the man near me snapped. “You’re always big on advice and short on action.”

  “Don’t start with me,” the other man warned.

  The two men glared at each other. For the moment they’d forgotten about me. If I felt better, it would have been the perfect time to make a break for it; but I couldn’t even walk much less run, and somehow I didn’t think that crawling was going to get me too far.

  “Come on,” the first guy finally said to the second, “let’s get going. We’re late enough as it is.”

  “Yeah.” With that the second man grabbed me by my collar and yanked me up. I had trouble standing. My knees started buckling again. “No you don’t,” the man said and he pulled me back up.

  We got to a door and stopped. Strains of Metallica came pouring out from the bar next to it. Every beat reverberated through my head. I groaned as one of the men opened the door and pushed me through.

  “Shut up and climb,” he ordered.

  I looked up. It was one flight. It could have been Mount Everest. “I don’t think I can make it,” I told him.

  “You’ll make it if I have to pull you up by your hair.” He gave me a push.

  Something told me he was telling the truth. I stumbled over the first step and righted myself. He shoved me again. The climb took forever. I tried to distract myself from the pounding in my head by counting the eyelets in my sneakers and the paint chips on the risers. It didn’t work. When we got to the top the man in front of me opened another door and we went through. The hallway we walked into was covered with cut red velvet wallpaper. It was hot and stuffy. The air smelled of floor wax, onions, Mr. Clean, and something vaguely medicinal that I couldn’t identify. The man standing next to me was just opening his mouth to say something when a small, prune-faced woman dressed in black came bustling out. She took one look at me and whirled on the two men.

  “Look at her,” she cried. “She can’t come in here. She’s filthy. She smells.”

  “Eddie wants to see her,” the one who was holding me up replied. His voice disclaimed all responsibility for what he had in his hand.

  Eddie. The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. The pain in my head made it hard to think. Then I heard Connie’s voice. I saw her leaning over the bar. I heard her telling me about Marsha and the money she owed, and all of a sudden I knew where I was. I was at Fast Eddie Marino’s. God. Why? What could he possibly want with me? But I decided not to waste time worrying about it. I had an idea I was going to find out soon enough.

  The woman glared at us. “I don’t care what Eddie wants. This is my house and you don’t bring nobody who looks like that up here.”

  One of the men groaned. “Come on, Ma, give us a break. It’s been a rough night.”

  The woman folded her arms across her chest and stuck out her chin. The gesture made me aw
are of the fact that it receded slightly, and I felt the urge to giggle. Then I realized there was something familiar about her face. She reminded me of someone. The name was on the tip of my tongue, but then she spoke and the thought vanished.

  “Before she takes one more step in my house she gets washed and changes her clothes,” she told the two men. “I’m not having my floors and my furniture messed up by the likes of her.” She turned and shook a finger at me. “What did you do? Drink too much? A woman your age. You should be ashamed.”

  “I’m not drunk,” I protested, feeling some unfathomable urge to set the record straight. “These two guys hit me over the head and dumped me in the trunk of the car.”

  The woman turned a basilisk stare on the two men. “Which car?” she demanded.

  “The Acura,” one of them mumbled, looking down at the floor.

  “Vinnie, you took Teresa’s car?”

  Vinnie muttered something I couldn’t catch.

  The woman poked a finger in his chest. “You better make sure you clean it good, you understand. I don’t want nothing stinking in there.”

  “Yes,” he muttered.

  “What did you say?” she demanded.

  “I said I understand,” he repeated in a loud voice.

  “Ma, who is it?” a wheezie voice called from inside one of the rooms.

  “Angie and Vinnie. They got a woman with them.”

  “Robin Light?”

  “Yeah,” Angie answered.

  “It’s about time. Bring her in.”

  “She’s gotta get washed first,” the mother called out. “And I’m gonna give her some clothes to change into. I don’t want her tracking her filth all over the house.”

  “Whatever you say.” He sounded as if he didn’t have enough energy to argue—but then neither did I.

  “How’s he doing?” Vinnie mouthed.

  The woman shook her head. “He’s having a bad night,” she whispered. “He’s gotta sit straight up all the time or he can’t breathe. That’s why we’re going to Arizona in a couple of weeks. I hear the air is better down there. At least that’s what my cousins tell me. They’ve been down there for ten years.” Then she turned and left. A moment later she was back with a towel and some neatly folded clothes. “Here,” she said, thrusting everything in my face. “Take them and go get washed.” And she pushed me in the direction of the bathroom. I felt as if I were five again.