"Vinny’s up at Southern. I need to meet him. Can you take me up there?"
Dick shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so." But he didn’t sound so sure.
I didn’t give him any time to change his mind, though. I leaned into my mother’s face and kissed her cheek. "Maybe I’ll get back later, okay?"
Her face was dark—she didn’t know what I was up to and she didn’t like that—but she nodded. "Okay."
I pulled open Dick’s passenger-side door and climbed into the Prius. I’d been in the car once before, and it was just as neat as it was the first time. When he started the car, Michael Bublé crooned at us.
"Do you have anything else to listen to?" I asked, pulling open the glove box, but not seeing any CDs in there.
Dick leaned over and shut the box. "No," he said firmly.
"So, what were you doing at my mother’s house?" I asked. "She said you came to see Bill about something."
Dick’s eyes were planted on the road ahead of us, his hands at that perfect ten o’clock-two o’clock thing they teach in high school driver’s ed class. "Bill asked me to come over," he said.
"Why?" I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and then looked back to the road. "I’m going to be employee of the month next month."
Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I knew I couldn’t say that out loud, so it went around and around in my head for a few seconds. "Oh," I managed to spit out. "And so he invited you to my mother’s annual barbecue to celebrate?"
"I can’t tell you any more," Dick said, although now I knew there was more. And I knew I wasn’t going to like it.
"Sure you can." I tried to keep my tone light, like I wasn’t ready to strangle him. "I won’t tell if it’s a secret."
He shook his head rather violently, like he had Tourette’s or something. "It’s nothing, Annie, okay?"
I didn’t want to press it, because I didn’t need anything else to bring me down. Instead I punched Vinny’s number into my cell. It rang several times and then his voice mail picked up. He must be on the phone. I left a message that I’d meet him in front of Engleman Hall.
The rest of the trip was spent in silence, although Dick kept stealing glances at me, little furtive glances, sort of like a ferret. When we pulled into the parking lot at Southern just near Engleman Hall, I opened the door and thanked him for the ride.
"Where’s Vinny?" he asked.
I looked around for the Explorer, but didn’t see it. He always checked his messages, though, so I was sure he’d show up here if he wasn’t here right this second. "I’ll be fine," I said, even though I wasn’t totally sure.
Dick didn’t argue—although for the first time I wanted him to, despite the bad karma in the car—and he left me on the sidewalk in the June heat. I watched the Prius peel out of the lot and careen down the street. I didn’t think he wanted to get rid of me that bad.
As I stood alone, exposed, I had that feeling again. The one that I was being watched.
There was no one there.
Literally.
A beat-up Corolla was at the far end of the parking lot, but besides that, there were no cars. No people.
A shiver tickled my spine, and I took a deep breath, deciding to get a little closer to Engleman Hall. Within a minute or so, I was standing near the doors, looking out over the abandoned campus.
Even though Vinny had said Jamond wasn’t near the old student center, I needed something to do. Something to keep my mind busy. As I walked across campus, I wished again that Tom hadn’t confiscated my gun. Or that I hadn’t been stupid enough to leave it in a place where he’d see it. But how was I supposed to know he’d have to reach under that seat?
I thought about those four expelled bullets.
The ballistics test was supposed to come back tomorrow, I remembered Tom saying.
If Ralph died of a heart attack, though, could the cops issue a warrant for attempted murder?
I should’ve asked my mother that. I should’ve stayed at that barbecue. Even though I would’ve had to make small talk with Bill Bennett. Even though I’d have to suck it up and pretend I was happy for Dick Whitfield and his employee-of-the-month award.
Fuck.
I think those kids on the bus had an effect on my language.
Not.
Someone was moving over near the student center, which was surrounded by a barbed-wire fence. Parts of the brick were falling off; a window was broken on the second floor. The building would be taken down, but it was probably full of asbestos, so it might take a little while.
I felt like I was getting ADD; I couldn’t concentrate on one thought for too long. Didn’t they have drugs for that?
Drugs reminded me again of Jamond. Maybe he was late, like I was. Maybe he took the bus, too.
My cell phone rang, startling me. I flipped the cover, still glancing around to see if anyone was lurking around the building, but there was no more movement.
"I told you I’d come get you at your mother’s, and I’m here, but she said you left with Dick Whitfield." Vinny sounded like my mother.
"I told you I’d call you back."
"And how long ago was that?" he admonished.
"I left a message. You didn’t answer."
A second passed, then a quiet, "Shit."
"I’m at Southern," I said, my voice way too loud. I took it down a decibel. "I said I’d meet you here in my message. Can you come get me?"
"I’ll be there in about ten minutes. Don’t go anywhere this time, okay?"
"Promise. I’ll be in front of Engleman Hall."
"Which one’s that?"
"Just come up Fitch and pull into that big parking lot. You can’t miss me. There’s no one else here."
But as I flipped the phone shut, I realized I was wrong.
Chapter 38
A shadow crossed my path, and a hand wrapped itself around my wrist so tightly that I dropped my phone. I twisted around to see Jamond, still holding me, bend down and pick it up. When he stood back up, his expression was unreadable.
"Took you long enough," he said.
"Let go of me," I demanded. "Give me back my phone."
He studied the new phone I’d gotten when I renewed my contract last month. "I don’t think so," he said.
For a skinny kid, he sure had a strong grip. I tried to wrench free, but his hand was like a vise. This wouldn’t do. I yanked up my arm quickly and then back down again. Shock crossed his face as he realized he’d lost hold, and I pulled my hand away. I backed up a few steps, ready to run.
"Give me back my phone, Jamond," I said.
He shook his head. "Sorry about this," he said, smashing it to the pavement. I watched as little pieces of my cell phone skipped along the sidewalk like stones skimming along water.
Double fuck.
I was going to have to wash my own mouth out with soap.
"What the hell, Jamond?" I demanded. "Listen, what’s wrong? Did you make that shit up about Felicia up at the cave?"
Jamond slipped a gun out from under his T-shirt. I stared at it, like it was some sort of illusionist’s trick.
"Felicia’s up there, all right," he said, waving the gun at me. I took another step back. "Stop moving," he added.
My feet wanted to run, but I stayed put. "What are you doing?" I asked him.
Jamond was shaking his head. "I changed my mind. I don’t want your help. Fuggedaboutit. You have to forget we even talked."
I clutched my bag, which was still slung over my shoulder. "What is this, the Mafia?" I asked. Little did he know that I had some experience in that area. I wished I hadn’t ignored the creepy feeling that had sneaked up on me. Was Jamond the person who’d gotten too close to me that Jack Hammer had warned me about? Had he killed Felicia and wanted to lure me here to kill me, too? Did this have to do with Ralph’s guns? I tried to remember what Jack had said, something about how the person watching me thought I knew more than I did. Jamond just might think that, c
onsidering our previous conversations about Ashley and Felicia.
"Listen, if Felicia’s dead up on the summit, we need to call the cops," I said.
"Too late for that," he said, indicating my phone.
I tried to think quickly. Maybe I could talk my way out of this. "Yeah, like you don’t have a phone. All you kids have them. All that text messaging and shit." His eyes grew wide with each sentence, like he thought I was a moron because I was over thirty and I shouldn’t know about that. "I’ve got a friend who’s a cop. He’ll listen to you. We can get in touch with him; he’ll help." I paused. "I don’t have to tell him about the gun."
The smirk indicated Jamond didn’t believe me.
I threw up my hands. "Then what the fuck are we going to do here?" I asked. "You’re holding me at gunpoint, you destroyed my phone, I don’t have a car, it doesn’t look like you’ve got one, so what’s the plan?"
"What’s going on?"
The voice came from behind me, and I whirled around to see Ned Winters standing behind me. I hadn’t even heard him approach. I took a deep breath, relieved to see someone I knew, even if I didn’t think of him as "a friendly face."
Ned’s eyes were trained on Jamond and the gun. "What’s going on?" he asked again.
Jamond stared at him and shrugged. "Lady dropped her phone," he said.
I opened my mouth to argue the point, but then closed it again. Ned was staring him down. No one said a word for a couple of seconds, but I couldn’t stand it anymore.
"Jamond asked me to meet him here, but what he wanted to say, well, he changed his mind," I told Ned, whose eyes flickered from Jamond to me, back to Jamond.
In an instant, Ned had moved in and grabbed Jamond’s wrist not unlike the way Jamond had grabbed mine just minutes before. Ned took the gun as Jamond’s fingers went slack.
An ugly smile crawled across Ned’s face. "Changed your mind?"
I could’ve sworn Jamond’s face went white. Granted, that wasn’t exactly possible, but the expression told me that if he were as white as I was, he would’ve gone even paler.
Ned dropped Jamond’s wrist, the gun dangling from his own fingers at his side. He finally took a long look at me. "Shall we call the cops?"
Jamond took advantage of the moment and became Speedy Gonzalez as he shot off around the corner of the building. Ned thrust the gun at me; I clutched it as he jogged after Jamond, out of sight. I waited a few seconds, feeling a bit helpless, but then Ned emerged. I could hear him panting as he got closer, his body half doubled over. That extra weight and the heat must have thwarted him.
"Disappeared," he said between breaths, his hands on his knees as his back rose and fell; he was trying to suck in as much air as possible. "What the hell happened here? What was he saying about Felicia?" he asked after a few seconds.
"You heard that?"
Ned waved his arm in the air to indicate the empty campus. "Voices carry, especially when the air’s still like this." He paused. "I heard your voice and something crash. Must have been your phone." He pointed to its remains at our feet.
"Yeah." The gun was heavy in my hands. A Glock. I wondered if it was one of Ralph’s. Even if it wasn’t, Jamond hadn’t gotten it legally, I was sure of that.
"So what about Felicia? Did anyone find her?" Ned was asking.
"Jamond said he saw her body up at Judges Cave." I put my hand on his forearm as Ned stood up straighter. "Thanks, Ned. I don’t know what Jamond planned to do."
Ned flashed a smile at me. "What are friends for?"
I chuckled. "You know, you aren’t Dirty Harry or anything. Never were."
"But I got rid of the bad guy, didn’t I?"
His words reminded me. "Vinny’s on his way over here now; I should go out to the parking lot and meet him." I indicated the Glock. "And we have to do something about this."
Ned reached for it, so I gave it to him. "We can call the police," he offered.
I’d been trying to do just that for hours now, but Tom wouldn’t return my calls. And I was sure Riley wouldn’t be happy that I’d skipped out on him. I sighed. "He’s just a kid."
"A kid with a gun," Ned said firmly. "We have to call the police. Let’s go inside to my office and use the phone there."
"Why don’t we wait until Vinny gets here?" I suggested. "Vinny will be really worried if I’m not out waiting for him."
"It’s so fucking hot out here," he complained. "That running, well, I don’t do that very much. At least it’s air-conditioned in my office. And I have a phone."
He wasn’t going to let it go. He had come to my rescue. But I didn’t want to miss Vinny. Ned could see I was debating with myself.
"My office window looks out over the parking lot and the sidewalk," he said. "Remember? That’s how I saw you coming up the other day."
Reluctantly I followed him. I didn’t see the Explorer anywhere as we reached Morrill Hall, even though I was sending Vinny telepathic messages.
"How’s Priscilla?" Ned was asking, the Glock swinging at his side. It had looked so large when Jamond held it, since he was shorter and a lot skinnier. In Ned’s hand, it looked almost like a toy.
"Drunk as a skunk and getting sick all over my apartment." An exaggeration, but he didn’t need to know that. "Hey, why did you put her in that cab? Why did you leave her in that state? You could’ve at least brought her to my place."
"I had to go." Ned had turned slightly, and I couldn’t see his face. "You know my dad’s been sick."
I shook my head. "No, you never mentioned that."
His face fell. "Oh, I did. At lunch."
I actually felt a little guilty for not paying attention. "I’m sorry," I said lamely.
I heard something then: a car, no, a bigger vehicle. Vinny? I ignored Ned’s surprised look—he’d already opened the door and was waiting for me to walk in—as I jogged back to the sidewalk. The familiar Explorer skidded to a stop just a few feet from me. Vinny jumped out and came over, giving me a quick kiss.
"You’re harder to track down than anyone I’ve ever known," he scolded playfully.
Ned had come up behind me, and I turned and introduced them. "Vinny, this is Ned Winters. Ned, this is Vinny DeLucia."
Vinny started a bit when he saw the gun in Ned’s hand. "Long story," I said.
"But you’re going to tell me, aren’t you." It wasn’t a question.
Ned’s eyebrows rose and his lips tugged into more of a grimace than a smile as he interrupted. "Ah, the love of your life." He held out his free hand, and Vinny took it.
I wondered if I could blame my flush on the heat. It was that elusive word again. Vinny didn’t seem to mind; in fact, he seemed to revel in his new title. He grinned.
"Nice to meet you. I don’t know much about Annie’s college days, but I’m learning a lot more about them all the time."
"I could tell you some stories—," Ned started, but I put my hand up to stop him.
"Listen, we can save those stories for another time. Vinny, I need your phone to call Tom."
"Where’s yours?" His eyes settled on my bag, which usually carried all my essentials.
I sighed. "It’s part of the long story. I’ll tell you after I make the call."
Vinny unclipped his phone from his belt and handed it to me. I held it hesitantly. "Why don’t we get in the car and I can call from there? It’s hot out here," I said. I didn’t want Ned to start telling Vinny those college stories while I was distracted on the phone.
When Ned’s eyebrows shot up, I added, "We need to get back to my place and see if Priscilla is okay." I looked at Ned. "Someone got her drunk and dumped her."
Ned indicated the gun in his hand. "What about this?" I really didn’t want to stick around much longer. While I was grateful for Ned’s heroics, I was hot and hungry and tired. I also realized that if Tom knew what had happened here, I’d again have to give a statement and go through all those shenanigans. I wasn’t in the mood. "Can you hold on to it for the time being?" I asked. "I’l
l call you in a bit, once I get in touch with Tom."
"Whose gun—"
I stopped Vinny by putting a finger across his lips. "I’ll tell you in the car."
Vinny shrugged. "Nice meeting you." He nodded at Ned, who looked at me as if he were losing his best friend all over again. I owed him for what he’d done. And for not paying attention about his father. That compassion somehow kicked in just when I least expected it.
I put my hand on his shoulder and leaned in, kissing him on the cheek. "Thanks, Harry." I smiled. He smiled back, and I felt a surge of our old friendship. We’d been there for each other a long time ago, and knowing that he would still be there for me now, even after all that shit with Ralph—well, let’s just say that even though I’m not a warm and fuzzy kind of person, it was oddly comforting.
Vinny slung his arm around my waist and gave Ned a short wave as we made our way to the Explorer. Ned watched us until we were inside, and then turned back toward his building.
When we were safely strapped in and my fingers about to punch in Tom’s number on the phone, Vinny’s hand wrapped itself around mine, stopping me. "Okay, you’re telling me everything. Now."
I sighed and related the whole story. Vinny’s eyes grew wide when I got to the part about Ned grabbing the gun from Jamond, but he didn’t say anything. Just listened until I got to the part where he showed up.
"Well, I don’t know what his angle is, but the kid was lying to you, that’s for sure," he said when I was done.
"Felicia’s alive."
Chapter 39
I stared at him a few seconds and realized he was serious. "How do you know?" I asked.
Vinny chuckled. "You don’t trust that I can do my job right? I find people for a living, remember?"
I thought back to someone he hadn’t found, and he read my mind. "Okay, so I miss one every now and then. But Felicia, she’s okay."
"Where is she?"
"In a safe place."
I frowned. "Is she in danger?"
"Why do you think she disappeared?"
I snorted. "Don’t be a smart-ass. So tell me about it. Where is she? How’d you find her?"
We were heading down Fitch Street, and my stomach growled before he could answer. It was dinnertime; that measly spinach salad I’d had at the Union League was hours ago.
Shot Girl Page 22
