The reading of the Declaration of Independence was starting, and, even in the street accent of a rap star, its words remained beautiful: “When in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary for one People to dissolve the Political Bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the Powers of the Earth . . .”
Anne craned her neck above the crowds to see where she was going, getting a bead on the dark statue of George Washington on horseback. He rode at the center of the largest circular fountain on Eakins Oval, flanked by two smaller circular fountains squirting red, white, and blue lighted water. The white plastic canopy of the huge Dollar-A-Hoagie tent was right behind it, and mobbed. Damn. How would Kevin find her in that mob? And could she really draw a gun in a crowd? Maybe this hadn’t been the best plan, but there was no changing it now. She could handle the gun and keep the safety on. Kevin wouldn’t know better, and it would make sure no one got hurt.
A young movie actress was saying, with microphone feedback, “We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness—”
Anne took heart. More beautiful words had never been written. She had the right to happiness, to liberty, to life. She had a great job, a nice neighborhood, girlfriends, and a new romance. She was entitled to all of these things, and Kevin was taking them away. She navigated around a family on their blanket, steadying their little boy with a palm on his warm head, then kept going, stumbling on kicked-off sneakers and shoes in the darkness, parting the crowd, at a celebrity-struck standstill.
A Broadway actor was launching into, “But when a long Train of Abuses and Usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object, evinces a Design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their Right, it is their Duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future Security.”
Damn right! Anne was protecting her future security. The hoagie tent lay less that fifty feet ahead, and she checked the crowd for Kevin as she barreled through it. It wasn’t easy to see, now that night had fallen. The only lights came from the old-fashioned gaslights near the fountains on the Oval and the intermittent lasers sweeping the sky.
A blond starlet was mustering colonial outrage: “The History of the present King of Great-Britain is a History of repeated Injuries and Usurpations, all having in direct Object the Establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid World. He has refused his Assent to laws . . .”
Anne plowed her way to the tent. Toward Kevin. He had refused to assent to laws, too. She just couldn’t live this way any longer. She felt unhinged and jittery. Exhausted and adrenalized from the last few days. She had a funny taste in her mouth, and wetness appeared under her arms and on her forehead. Her knees felt loose but she powered forward.
A distinguished Academy Award winner was saying, “He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary Powers . . . .”
The litany of injustices resonated, and the fact that they had been perpetrated by the King of England was only a technicality. Anne was going to rectify injustice. Catch the bad guy and put him away forever. Get justice for herself and for Willa. And now, for Beth.
“Excuse me, sir,” Anne said to a man in her way, picking up speed, fueled by increasing anger through the packed crowd. She looked for Kevin but didn’t see him. He was out there, she knew it. She could sense him, a dark vibration. She held her head high so he could see her.
Thirty yards, then twenty. The hoagie tent lay right ahead. Anne started to hustle, undaunted by the crowd, jostling people in her path. She could hear the chatter at the hoagie tent. Smell the tang of spices and fresh processed meats through the cigarette smoke and beer.
She reached the line at the end of the hoagie tent, took her place, and tried to arrange her face into a happy mask, so she could look like she was having fun. She kept her hand cradled around the Beretta and squinted through the laser beams at the crowd. She had a better vantage point in the line at the tent. Everybody was facing the stage and the celebrities, gawking, pointing, and taking pictures. She eyed as many faces as possible, studying their features under Phillies caps, foam crowns, deelyboppers, and American-flag hats. Nobody was moving except for the people hurrying to the hoagie tent.
The Declaration continued: “We, therefore, the Representatives of the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the World for the Rectitude of our Intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly Publish and Declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States . . .”
The line shifted forward, but Anne couldn’t see under the dark tent. When was the end of the Declaration of Independence? She should have known but she didn’t. The fireworks would start right after. When would Kevin make his move? Her heart began to pound. She felt exposed, vulnerable, even in full view of everyone. Where were the cops?
The line went forward, moving fast, and Anne could finally see under the tent. An army of people, maybe fifty, were dressed in white uniforms and paper bifold hats with Stars and Stripes, and they were handing out hoagies as fast as they could, collecting the dollars in exchange and stuffing them into a barrel to be donated to Children’s Hospital. Two cops stood behind the barrel, their arms folded in their short-sleeved summer uniforms. Great!
The Declaration sounded as if it were concluding. “And for the support of this declaration, with a firm Reliance on the Protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.”
The crowd clapped and cheered wildly. The cops turned around and clapped, and the hoagie line burst into applause, becoming agitated now, anticipating the fireworks, wanting to get their sandwich and hurry back to their blankets. The noise was deafening, but the fact that everyone was clapping at once helped Anne. Because over there, across the sea of heads, stood a lone man who wasn’t clapping. Her gaze shot immediately to him.
He was tall and wore a dark T-shirt. She recognized the shape of his head, even though he had shaved off all of his hair. His shorn head shone skull-white in the gaslight. His expression was determined, his shoulders muscular and pumped. He turned suddenly toward the tent, and a stray ray of blood-red light sliced his face, illuminating it.
The man was Kevin Satorno. And it was time for Anne’s own personal Declaration of Independence.
29
Boom! A white chrysanthemum burst into bloom and faded to a sparking skeleton as the first fireworks went off in the night sky over the Art Museum, and the crowd oohed, aahed, and clapped. The explosion reverberated in Anne’s heart but she kept her eye on Kevin, so she wouldn’t lose him. His shaved head turned toward the hoagie tent. He was looking for her.
Anne suppressed a shudder and slid her hand into her pocket. Her fingers found the Beretta’s grip, now warm with the heat of her body. She willed herself not to be afraid and edged out of the line, going to her right, so that the line lay between her and Kevin. Everyone was looking up at the fireworks, except for him. She could see him as he faced the line. She would have to come up from behind him.
Fireworks shot hissing into the air, their launching convulsive, soaring to the heavens, where they exploded into glittery red, white, and blue sprays. They left searing white lights suspended in the air like incendiary fairies and detonated with a thunder that sent little kids covering their ears.
Anne was on the move. She walked behind the line slowly, so she didn’t lose Kevin or draw his attention in her white dress. It stood out at night. Thank God she had found him first. Ca-shoosh! Ca-shoosh! Fireworks went off with cacophonous screeching. Howling curlicues of red, green, and blue spiraled into the firmament. The colors tinged the faces around her, then they’d fall again into darkness.
>
Anne reached the tent and continued around the back. People stood still, transfixed by the show in the sky. Kevin was turning his head, scanning the line for her. His eyes narrowed to slits. His mouth flattened to a grim line of purpose. She felt her heart pounding.
She checked the cops’ position. They stood stationed at the cash barrel to her left. She thought about running to them right now and pointing Kevin out, but she wasn’t sure she could convince them fast enough, before he ran off, or maybe hurt somebody. She had a better idea. She’d come up from behind, stick the gun in Kevin’s back, then move him toward the police and away from the crowd, so nobody would get hurt. As soon as she had flanked him successfully, she’d yell for help. General George Washington, riding his bronze horse not fifty feet away, would have been proud.
Ca-shoosh! The air smelled of smoke. Cinders fell like blackened snowflakes. Anne snuck around the tent and got a bead on the back of Kevin’s head. She had him now. She was directly behind him, with only the rapt crowd in between. She picked up speed and moved through the crowd. Closing in at thirty feet. Then twenty. Ten.
Anne’s blood drummed in her ears. She gripped the Beretta’s handle so tightly its hatchmarks imprinted on her palm. Her hand was shaking but she ignored it. Boom! Firework palm trees in green glitter waved in the air, and the crowd laughed. She was so close to Kevin she could count the bumps on his scalp. A group of rowdy teenagers partied between them, wearing blue football jerseys and waving Heinekens and show-off cigars.
Bang! Bang! Fireworks like red pompoms flamed overhead and their red glitter dissolved to hearts glowing in the sky. The teenagers cheered, raising green bottles of beer, and Anne threaded her way through them. Their cigar smoke blew toward Kevin, wreathing his head.
Her stomach steeled. Her heart seemed to stop. She felt oddly like someone else, someone braver than herself. She inched the Beretta from her pocket.
Pow! Pow! A wolf pack of white lights detonated in a frenzy that got the teenagers hooting in her ears. Anne had almost passed them when Kevin moved away and started walking toward the tent. Even better. She’d have him where she wanted him, closer to the cops. The two uniforms remained at the cash barrel, their blue caps silhouetted in the light from the tent. It was time. Go. She drew her Beretta and held it at her hip.
“Hey, gorgeous, where you going so fast?” asked one of the football players. He sidestepped into her path, blocking her view of Kevin.
“Move, please!” Anne started to go around him, but he grabbed her arm and spun her around so quickly she almost dropped the gun.
“What’s your hurry, honey? Dontcha wanna watch the fireworks with me?”
“Leave me alone!” Anne wrenched her arm free and rushed frantic around him.
But Kevin wasn’t standing where he’d been a moment ago. She looked around wildly. He had disappeared. Only the crowd was facing her; men, women, and children looking up at the fireworks. Had she lost him? No!
Anne plunged into the crowd around the tent. She couldn’t lose Kevin, not now. She searched the mob but he wasn’t there. Had he gone on the other side of the line, like she had? She let the Beretta slip back into her pocket.
Ka-BOOM! Ka-BOOM! Silvery streams sprayed all over the sky, as if heaven itself had sprung a huge leak, as the fireworks segued into the finale. Ka-BOOM! Ka-BOOM! The sky erupted into rapid-fire explosions, like a war zone. Ka-BOOM! Ka-BOOM!
Anne hurried to the tent, looking everywhere for Kevin. His shaven head, his black T-shirt. People stood riveted, cheering. No Kevin. She wanted to scream with frustration. She thought fast. Time for Plan B. She had lost sight of Kevin, but she would not lose him. She turned and looked for the cops, to tell them. They’d call for backup; he couldn’t be far.
Suddenly Anne was grabbed from behind and her right arm wrenched up behind her. Something sharp cut deep into her back. She was about to scream when she heard a hot voice at her ear, against her cheek.
“Don’t scream or I’ll drive a hunting knife through your heart.” It was Kevin.
Anne froze with fear. Her shoulder seared with pain. The knife dug into her back. She wanted to scream but he’d stab her on the spot. She couldn’t reach her gun with her left hand. Even if she could, she couldn’t shoot in this crowd. She didn’t know what to do. Her heels left the ground as Kevin lifted her up by her arm and propelled her forward, away from the tent and the police. The knife sliced between her ribs. Anne struggled to think through her terror.
Kevin cranked her arm up farther. “You’re coming with me. You won’t get away from me this time. You’re mine, now. Finally.”
Tears of fright sprang to her eyes. He was breaking her arm at the shoulder. The fireworks erupted into their high-decibel finale. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The sky was a canopy of white lights, smoke, and thunder. Anne prayed to God it wasn’t the last sight she’d see.
Kevin put his cheek close to hers, driving her forward with the knife. “You bitch, I dreamed of you every night. I looked at your picture every minute. I wrote to you, called you, bought you gifts. Flowers, jewelry, poems, candy. I gave you everything I had. I was devoted to you, dedicated to you. “
Anne tried to make sense of what was happening. She had to survive. The knifepoint drilled into her back, now hot and warm with blood. Her blood.
She tried not to panic as Kevin hurried her through the crowd to the street, shoving her toward the apartment buildings and the grove of trees and bushes at the dark edge of the park. Nobody was around. Trees blocked them from view. Maybe she could reach her gun. Get off a shot without hurting anybody else.
Kevin’s breath grew heated. “I loved your face. I loved your body. I loved every inch of you. I would have done anything for you. Anything, Anne.”
Ka-BOOM! Ka-BOOM! Kevin was taking her past the bushes. Heading around the back of an apartment building toward the Expressway. Anne could feel the weight of the Beretta in her pocket. It banged into her thigh. Could she wrap her hand across her body?
“You played me, you fucking bitch!” Kevin’s voice shook with pent-up rage, unleashed. “You threw me away! You sent me to prison! You know what that’s like? You know what I went through in there? Because of you, you fucking bitch! I hate you! I hate your fucking guts!”
Anne blocked out his words; they paralyzed her. She had saved herself from him once before. She could do it again. She forced herself to wait for the right moment. It would come. She would get the gun.
Ka-BOOM! Ka-BOOM! Red, white, and blue lashed through the leaves of the trees.
“I’ll love killing you, Anne. Love every single fucking minute of it. I’ll make it last forever. It’ll be the best sex of your life.”
Anne felt a bolt of sheer terror. Kevin was forcing her toward a deserted stretch by the Expressway, strewn with trash and litter. They were almost at the back of the building. Nobody to see them here. Her eyes filled with tears. Her gut told her this would be her last moment on the planet. She had nothing to lose. No one here to get hurt but her. She reached for her pocket but Kevin pressed the knife into her flesh, stabbing her with the tip. She let out a desperate cry no one could hear. “Help!”
Ka-BOOM! Ka-BOOM! Ka-BOOM!
“Anne? Anne! Is that you?” shouted someone, not far behind them.
“Help!” Anne screamed again, just as she felt Kevin’s body torque toward the sound. She seized the opportunity and twisted enough to reach her left pocket. She grabbed the Beretta. Kevin was too distracted to notice.
Anne struggled in his grasp, holding the Beretta against her leg, waiting. She was a good shot, but not good enough to shoot over her shoulder. She disengaged the safety with her thumb, pressing it down. She couldn’t hear the solid tik she knew it made. The Beretta was loaded and ready to fire.
The man’s voice called again, right behind them. “Anne! Anne, are you okay?!” It was Gil! He must have come from the bar, looking for her.
Ka-BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Fireworks detonated like bombs.
“Gil!” sh
e screamed, but Kevin was already turning toward him, relaxing his grip. Anne felt the knifepoint ease from her back, wet with blood. She seized the chance to leap from Kevin’s hold, spin around on her heel, and aim the gun at him. “Hold it right there!” she screamed. “I’ll use it, I swear.”
But Kevin was already lunging at Gil with the jagged hunting knife. Gil caught Kevin by the wrist, pressing him backward. The two men struggled back and forth. Anne aimed for Kevin, but he was moving too much for her to fire. She couldn’t take the chance and shoot Gil. Fighting men were different from a paper target.
“Anne, shoot him!” Gil shouted, but the men kept struggling, turning this way and that. She stepped closer to the fight to get a better shot, but suddenly Gil reached out with a desperate hand and grabbed the gun from her. Kevin came at him, brandishing the knife, and reached Gil just as the gun went off, a flame of red-orange firing from the snub barrel, the report lost in the fireworks. Then another, and another, from the semi-automatic.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Anne screamed. Kevin’s neck exploded in blood. He dropped backward onto the ground, crumpling like a straw man. She hurried to Kevin. He lay sprawled on the ground, his legs bent crazily, his body motionless. His mouth hung agape, his eyes stared open but unseeing. Blood squirted red from where his Adam’s apple used to be, spurting into the air with his pulse, falling back on his face like a grisly fountain. His throat emitted a hideous, gurgling sound.
“No!” Anne heard herself scream without knowing why. Hot blood spattered her dress and drenched her hands and arms. It was no use calling 911. One look at Kevin told her he was dead.
“It’s all right now,” Gil was saying, over and over, his hand on her shoulder.
But Anne heard him only as if he were far away, and tears she couldn’t begin to explain poured down her cheeks.
Courting Trouble Page 27
