by Valerie Clay
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Things are only impossible until they’re not.” —Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of the Starship Enterprise
*******
The interior of Anthony’s office was like no other accounting office I had ever seen before. Huge impressionist oil paintings adorned butterscotch-colored walls, trimmed in creamy white crown molding. Sumptuous oriental rugs topped cherry hardwood floors in strategic locations, and a large mahogany conference table matched the Queen Anne desk and filing cabinets.
We sat stiffly on black leather conference chairs, lined up side by side. I was in the middle chair and Julie sat to my left. On my right sat Amanda, and Carl’s carrier was on the floor next to her. Inside he whimpered and snorted, scratched and pawed, trying in vain to break free. Sitting on the desk across from us was Anthony, gun drawn, ankles crossed casually, waiting for further instructions from the gangster squad.
Suddenly there was a loud knock on the door and we all lurched, including Anthony. He cautiously approached the door, peered through a side window, then quickly unlocked and opened the door. In huffed Crystal, with Lenny close behind.
“Why aren’t they tied up?” she snapped.
“What do you suggest I tie them up with? There’s nothing in here but an Ethernet cord, and I need it to keep my computer online. I don’t have WI-FI in here. Anyway, they’re not a problem. Bunch of sheep.”
Sheep? That really got to me. I may be many things, but a sheep I’m not. I looked at Julie and her expression was one of steely determination. I’ve come to the conclusion that nothing scares Colonel Julie Thompson. I just prayed she was cooking up a plan, because I had nothing.
“Lenny and I’ll take over from here,” Crystal said to Anthony. You head back to the room and stay with the doc and his idiot brother.”
“What’re you going to do with ’em,” Anthony asked, nodding in our direction. His demeanor was indifferent, but there was a tiny undercurrent of disquiet in his voice.
She gave him a long, hard look. “Don’t know yet. We’ll see what the boss says. Anyway, that’s none of your concern now, is it?”
Anthony shrugged his shoulders, moved quickly out of the office, and locked the door behind him, leaving us alone with Lenny and Vampira.
Once again, Lenny had his gun trained on us. There’s nothing like having a gun in your face to make you sober up and take stock of your life. I thought about Spencer. About what he would do if I just disappeared.
Lenny limped around to the front of the room, leaned his weight against the edge of the large mahogany desk, and faced us.
“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” I said to him, frowning. “You were watching us in the lounge. How could you possibly have known what we were doing?”
Lenny shrugged. “I’ve been tailing the two of yous since Seattle.”
“Since Seattle!” Julie blurted.
From behind us, Crystal spoke up, suddenly becoming chatty. “Lenny here picked up you two geniuses at the doc’s house, before he left for the airport this morning.” At the sound of her voice, I turned my head towards the back of the room to get a look at her, but Amanda and Julie remained rigid, staring straight ahead. Crystal strutted around our row of chairs, then took her place in front of us, perching on the top of the desk, next to Lenny. Crossing her legs, she smiled and continued, “And, get this, he sat two rows behind you on the plane.” She looked positively gleeful, in an evil, devil-worshiper sort of way.
Lenny nodded his head. “No offense, but you broads ain’t exactly observant, if you know what I mean.” I glanced sideways at Julie. Her jaw clenched as she rocked her head back and stared up at the ceiling. In our defense, it would have been difficult for any woman to see past Andy Garcia.
The sound of Lenny’s ringing cell phone pierced the momentary silence. He checked the caller ID, then quickly answered, and listened intently. When he spoke, we studied his face, looking for signs of hope.
“Yeah, I’ve got the three stooges right here, and they’re a weird crew,” he said, eyeing us. “What do ya want me to do with ’em?” He listened for another moment, then said, “Got it. Understand. I’ll take care of ’em.” He flipped his phone shut, paused, and looked at us, his expression cold, resigned. The hush in the room was ominous. “Sorry, ladies, nothing personal, but business is business.”
“No!” Amanda shouted.
A dull nausea swept over me as I realized my life was coming to an end. I thought I was going to be sick. “We should have listened to Laini,” I wailed. “We should have turned around and gone home.”
“Shoulda, coulda, woulda—I wouldn’t spend too much time on it.” Lenny said.
“Thank you, Mr. Zen master killer,” I said, tears spilling down my cheeks. Great, now my blusher was going to be streaked.
Crystal slid off the desk and returned to the back of the room, where she began pacing back and forth. The only sounds in the room were Carl’s whimpering and whining, my whimpering and whining, and the clacking of Crystal’s boot heels on the hardwood floor. I could see the headlines in tomorrow’s paper: BODIES OF THREE UNIDENTIFIED WOMEN FOUND IN DUMPSTER. POLICE SPECULATE THEY WERE PART OF A DRUG DEAL GONE BAD.
“If you just let us go, I promise we won’t say anything,” I pleaded.
“Shut up, I’m sick of your constant blabbering,” Crystal shouted at me. “And take that stupid hat off your head.”
“I can’t,” I shouted back at her. “I have hat hair.” At this point I figured there was nothing to lose.
Glaring, Crystal came up behind me, ripped the hat off my head and threw it across the room. It soared through the air like a Frisbee, hit a porcelain lamp and knocked it off a table. When it crashed loudly onto the floor, shattering into tiny pieces, she swore a blue streak, blaming it on me. I shook my hair out as best I could, tried to stop sniffling, and reflected on my life. “This is not how I’m supposed to die, I’m supposed to live to a ripe old age, be a grandmother, learn how to knit, get a cat. . . .”
Lenny, the grim-faced executioner, philosophized again, “In the words of Mick Jagger, ‘You can’t always get what you want.’” He pulled a silencer out of his jacket pocket and calmly began attaching it to his gun.
“Wait! You can’t kill us here in the hotel,” Julie broke in. “How will you dispose of the bodies? What about the blood?”
“No problem.” He gave her a smirk. “Thanks for your concern, but we have friends in the cleaning business who take care of all kinds of unique jobs. You might say they have the market cornered. You’d be amazed at what they can do.”
All at once, Carl’s whimpering turned into a full-throated howl, and Lenny yelled at Amanda to shut him up. Amanda tried to calm Carl through his carrier, but his howling erupted into sharp, persistent barking, becoming even louder and more agitated by the minute.
Lenny pointed his gun at the carrier. “Shut that mutt up, or I’ll do it for you.”
“I can’t!” Amanda screamed over the barking. “He’s just a baby. He’s terrified. I need to take him out of his bag and hold him.”
“All right—whatever—just shut him up,” Lenny hissed.
Tearfully, Amanda reached down and unzipped the bag. She held out her shaking hands to caress poor, frightened Carl, but he shot through them like Seabiscuit out of the gate. Streaking across the floor, he headed straight for Lenny, his little legs a brown blur, black ears flapping, his red cape flying in the wind. Reaching his target, Carl opened his jaws wide, sunk his razor-like teeth deep into Lenny’s ankle, and hung on for dear life. Lenny screamed and jumped, kicked and yelled but Carl wouldn’t let go. That brave little sucker hung on with every fiber of his being.
Amanda watched in horror as Lenny tried to dislodge him, gyrating around the office, hopping and jerking like a crazed aerobics instructor. Finally Lenny managed to shake Carl free and flung him across the room like a rag doll. Amanda shrieked as rage flooded through her body. Vaulting out of her chair she ran for Carl,
but Lenny backhanded her roughly across the face, knocking her flat on her back.
In the midst of all the commotion Julie leaped up and struck fast and hard, kicking the gun out of Lenny’s hand. As it skittered across the hardwood floor, she swiftly kicked again, this time a direct strike to his groin. He grabbed his crotch, moaned, and went down on both knees.
Cursing loudly, Crystal came up from behind Julie, grabbed both her arms and tried to shove her to the floor. In an instant, Julie slammed her head straight back into Crystal’s face. Staggering backwards, Crystal tripped on the edge of a chair and fell with a thud onto the hardwood floor. A second later Julie, still in Crystal’s grip, landed on top of her. A small stream of blood trickled out of Crystal’s nose as she released Julie’s arms and slowly went limp.
Lenny was still on his knees moaning, when I spied the gun and, chest heaving, dashed past him to snatch it up before he could respond. I scooped it off the floor, whirled around, and leveled it at Lenny. When he realized I had the gun, he slowly got up and moved towards me. His face was contorted in pain and anger, and in his eyes I saw a murderous resolve. My hands shook like a leaf as I pointed the gun at him.
“Don’t move,” I shouted as I backed up a step. But, daringly, he kept coming closer. I took another long step backwards, then shouted again, “I said don’t move!”
“Shoot him, Vic!” Julie screamed.
I froze as Lenny kept edging closer. Behind me, the wall stopped any further retreat. There was nowhere else to go.
“Shoot him!” she yelled again.
Lenny, seeing my hesitation, suddenly lunged at me. Then everything seemed to move in slow motion. I held on tightly to the gun with both hands, closed my eyes, and squeezed the trigger. The silencer emitted a tiny, spitting cough as the bullet discharged from the deadly weapon. With my unskilled and sightless aim, the bullet completely missed my target, but ricocheted off a filing cabinet, then came back, grazing Lenny’s skull and tore off the top half of his left ear. Screaming like a stuck pig, he grabbed his head and went down on one knee. That’s when Amanda came up from behind him and smashed a heavy Waterford crystal vase over the top of his head. He hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.
“That’s for Carl,” she said. Then she kicked him in the ribs for good measure. Both Lenny and Crystal were out cold.
I surveyed the room in disbelief. Broken glass and porcelain shards were everywhere, and two people lay unconscious on the floor. We stood paralyzed with shock for a moment until Julie recovered first and yelled, “Give me the gun.” I carefully passed it over to her, holding it by two fingers. She grabbed it from me, deftly removed the silencer and threw it on the floor, then ejected the clip. “Nine mm Glock, five rounds left,” she said half to herself, half out loud. She shoved the clip back into the gun until it clicked, then stuck it into the back of her pants.
“Let’s get out of here!” she shouted as she sprinted to the door, unlocked it, and yanked it open.
Amanda darted across the room and swooped up a dazed Carl slumped against a filing cabinet. Tucking him protectively under her arm, she raced through the doorway like a star running back carrying a football into the end zone.
I was right behind them and halfway out the door when I realized I’d left my hat behind. I hesitated for a moment. Should I go back for it? That would be crazy. But on the other hand . . . I turned around and made a beeline for the hat. Unfortunately Crystal blocked my path, so I had to gingerly step over her to reach it. Equally unfortunate was the groaning sound I heard just as I picked it up off the floor. I turned around, and to my horror, she was awake and attempting to sit up.
Crystal’s appearance was even more startling than before. The trail of dried blood on her pallid face gave her a ghoulish appearance. I tried to leap over her, like a track star clearing a tall hurdle, but she grabbed my ankle in midair and I went down with a heavy thud on the floor next to her. We thrashed about as I struggled to get free, but she wouldn’t release her death grip on me. For someone who had recently been knocked out cold, she was freakishly strong. Kicking, squirming, and yelling, I tried to break away, but she wouldn’t let go until my knee slammed hard into her jaw and, momentarily stunned, she loosened her grip. A sudden movement to the right caught my eye and I looked up as Julie appeared in the doorway, holding the gun.
“Crystal’s awake!” I shrieked as I scrambled to my feet. Like a bottle rocket on the Fourth of July, I bolted out of the office, my precious hat clenched tightly in my fist.
We thundered down the empty hallway, caught up with Amanda, and swiftly followed the signs for the elevators. Less than twenty yards away, we heard the soft chime of an elevator bell and a door slowly opened. A well-dressed man and a woman in a black beaded cocktail dress, clinging tightly to one another stepped out of the elevator, bumped into a wall and laughed hysterically. Carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses, they giggled and zigzagged down the hall moving away from us.
“Hold the elevator,” Julie yelled, but they stumbled on, sloshed, oblivious to Julie’s shouts. The door began to slowly close so she made a run for it, hitting the down button repeatedly. Mercifully, the door opened again and we clambered inside. Except for the lingering scent of cigar smoke and expensive perfume, the interior of the elevator was empty. I pushed the close button and we began the short descent to the main floor.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“As you get older, it is harder to have heroes, but it is sort of necessary.” —Ernest Hemingway, Nobel laureate in literature
*******
Amanda made no attempt to hide the hysteria in her voice. “We have to call the police, but they’ve got our cell phones and bags!”
In a calm but firm tone, Julie said, “There’s no time to look for a phone in the hotel. Crystal’s probably alerted the others by now. The minute the door opens, run for the exit as fast as you can.”
I shoved my hair up into my hat and prepared to bolt. Amanda had a tight grip on Carl, who rested quietly in her arms—too quietly.
The elevator slowed, then finally came to a stop. After what seemed like an eternity, the doors gradually opened and we burst through them in a frantic rush. A group of senior citizens stepped forward to enter, blocking our path. As we came barreling out, I heard a comment about rude, young hooligans. Lady, you have no idea, I thought.
We blasted down the grand hallway like the devil himself was after us. I took up the lead, with Julie and Amanda close behind. People stared at us as we sped by at full tilt, dodging gamblers and bellboys pushing carts overflowing with luggage, but I didn’t care. Every stride brought us closer to freedom.
Julie spotted a sign for the exit and shouted at us to turn right at the end of the hallway. Following her directions, I careened around the corner, looking back to see if anyone was chasing us. Then, without warning, boom! I ran smack dab into two-hundred-thirty-five pounds of muscle. Momentarily dazed, all I could see was a silver belt buckle as big as my head. I looked up to find cowboy Bobby gazing down at me with an amused expression on his face. Dakota stood next to him, talking on his cell phone.
“Whoa, hold up there, darlin’—where’s the fire?” Bobby drawled.
“Bobby, Dakota. Thank God! Call 911!” I shrieked as I flung my arms around Bobby’s chest. Dakota told his caller he had to go, hung up, and dialed 911. When the operator answered he handed the phone to me.
Out of breath and overflowing with adrenaline, I rattled off our story as fast as I could. Amanda and Julie interjected comments while surveying the area for any signs of Crystal and her flying monkeys. Listening in astonished silence, Bobby and Dakota exchanged worried glances.
I hung up the phone and handed it back to Dakota. “The 911 operator told us to leave the casino immediately and wait outside for a squad car that’s already on its way.”
“What if they find us before the police get here?” Amanda cried. “They’ll kill us!”
“Don’t worry ‘bout that,” Bobby said. He gave a whis
tle and two of his friends looked up from a nearby blackjack table. “Buck and Rusty—round up the guys and bring ’em over here right quick.”
In a matter of minutes we were entirely surrounded by a thick wall of cowboys.
“Boys, we need to escort these lovely ladies out of the casino and wait with them until the police arrive,” Bobby directed. “Let’s go.”
Keeping the circle intact, they slowly walked us through the immense lobby and out the doors. Standing outside in the evening shadows, in the midst of a sea of cowboy hats, we were thoroughly hidden from the rest of the world, and for the first time in hours I began to feel safe. You gotta love men from Texas.
But even as Julie and I felt the sweet rush of relief, Amanda started to sniffle, then huge tears spilled down her face.
“Don’t worry, Ma’am,” Bobby said, noticing her distress. We’ve got you covered.”
“I know, and I so appreciate that, but it’s just that I’m nervous about Carl. He’s too quiet.”
“What happened to Carl?”
“He was thrown across the room into some filing cabinets. I’m afraid he may have a concussion—or worse.”
Bobby looked down at Carl with curiosity. “I know a little bit about animals. Mind if I take a look at him?”
“No, please do.” As she handed him over, Carl looked up at Bobby with moist dark eyes full of trust, and began licking his hands.
In a comforting voice, the big cowboy spoke to Carl, “Come on, little feller, let’s get some light so I can take a look at you.” They moved over to the edge of the circle near the fountain lights where Bobby gently examined him. Amanda followed closely behind, hovering nervously, biting her lips, wringing her hands.
“Okay if I take off his cape?” Bobby asked.
