The Order of Brigid's Cross - The Wild Hunt (Book 1): The Wild Hunt

by Terri Reid

  Jamal walked up and down the hallway, striding with a slightly rhythmic bounce.

  “You really walk like that?” Maria asked. “Or are you just pulling my chain?”

  He grinned. “I really walk like that,” he said. “It’s the bad way to walk.”

  Pete nodded. “Okay, Maria,” he said. “Now it’s your turn.”

  Maria’s imitation of Jamal’s saunter was stiff and a little exaggerated. Jamal and Pete glanced at each other and shook their heads simultaneously. “Well, the good news,” Pete said, “is that it’s a really short walk from the back of the office to my car.”

  Maria scowled at Pete. “Very funny, Mr. O’Bryan. Very funny.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Pete put his car in reverse and pulled out of the private, underground parking lot beneath the firm’s offices.

  “Bingo,” Maria said, watching in the side mirror. “We got a car following us.”

  Pete nodded. “So, what does it look like?” he said, concentrating on the traffic around him.

  “Black, unmarked SUV,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Could they be any more obvious?”

  Chuckling, Pete shifted gears and pulled onto Lake Shore Drive. “Beautiful afternoon for a drive,” he said.

  She settled back in the soft leather seat. “Yeah, I could get used to this,” she commented. “So, where are you taking me?”

  “I thought I’d drive you home,” he said. “You still live in the Edgewater?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, but how am I supposed to get my car for tomorrow?”

  “I’ll send a car for you,” he said. “Besides, I’ll feel safer.”

  “You think these guys are that bad?” she asked.

  “No, I’ve seen your driving,” he replied with a quick grin, glancing over at her. “This is purely a public service.”

  “Well, if you ever give up the attorney gig, you can still get a job as a stand-up comic,” she retorted. “Oh, wait. I mean a roll-on comic.”

  Chuckling, he accelerated and passed a couple of cars and moved back into the right lane. “Oh, yeah, make fun of the crippled guy.”

  “Yeah, poke fun at the Mexican,” she said. “You got any border-running jokes you want to try out?”

  “Yeah, why did…”

  “Okay, we got trouble coming hard and fast,” she said, interrupting him as she stared into the mirror. “They’ve got a couple more cars joining them. We’ve got to get off.”

  They had nearly passed the exit, but Pete turned sharply to the right, bumped over a curve and slid onto the exit ramp at Lawrence. “Suggestions?” he asked.

  “Yeah, turn left and take Lawrence to Sheridan, then make a right on Sheridan,” she said.

  Following her suggestions, he made a quick left onto Lawrence, swerving around an oncoming car and speeding down the street.

  “Nice one,” she said.

  “And that’s why you shouldn’t drive,” he replied, slipping through a yellow light on Marine Drive.

  “Oh, was I supposed to be terrified?” she asked. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

  “Do you think they’ll put out an APB on us?” he mused.

  She shook her head. “No, if there not supposed to draw attention to themselves, it would be kind of hard to justify tailing the top attorney in Chicago.”

  “Thank you,” Pete said.

  “I was talking about myself,” Maria replied. “You’re just my driver.”

  He turned onto Sheridan Road, skirted around a CTA bus, and continued to drive north. “Where’s the next exit on Lake Shore Drive?” he asked.

  “Foster,” she replied. “But they are going to spend some time checking out the lakefront to see if we are hiding in the park.”

  “But we won’t be hiding in the park,” Pete said. “Because…”

  “Because, you are going to be buying me a Starbucks,” she said. “Turn right on Foster, then a left into the parking lot and take the ramp to the rooftop parking.”

  He followed her directions and pulled into a spot next to the street-side wall and put the vehicle into park. Maria pulled off the cap, letting her black hair fall tousled to her shoulders, and took off the oversized sweatshirt. The striped t-shirt hugged her feminine curves, and the loose jeans fell to her hips.

  “You don’t look like a thirteen year old boy anymore,” Pete said.

  Smiling at him, she nodded. “Yeah, that’s the point,” she said. “What do you want from Starbucks?”

  “I thought I was buying,” he said.

  She pulled a credit card out of her pocket and grinned. “You are,” she said. “Corporate card.”

  “I’ll take a small, black coffee,” he said.

  “They don’t have small,” she corrected. “They have short.”

  “They’re not short,” he corrected. “They’re petite.”

  Rolling her eyes, she slipped out of the car. “You are such a jerk,” she said, bending over and looking into the car.

  “Hey, Maria,” he said, suddenly serious.

  “Yeah?”

  “Be careful, okay?”

  She nodded and met his eyes, the amusement gone from hers, too. “Yeah, I will.”

  Jogging to the stairs, she hurried down to street level and casually walked along Foster to the coffee shop entrance. Pulling out her cellphone, she dialed Pete as she took her place in line, nonchalantly looking out the plate glass windows to the street beyond.

  “Hey,” Pete said, answering his phone.

  “Okay, nothing but a long line,” she began and then stopped suddenly. “Well, hello there…”

  The line moved forward and Maria followed along. “Yeah, number one is stopped momentarily,” she said. “Heading west.”

  While Maria had been heading down to Starbucks, Pete had pulled his wheelchair out of the back of the car and was now sitting next to the rooftop retaining wall. “Yeah, I see him,” Pete said.

  Turning, he looked farther east on Foster. “And if I’m not mistaken, one of his buddies is going to join him at the light.”

  Maria stepped up to the counter and placed her order. “When did Liza plan on going home tonight?” she asked matter-of-factly.

  “About fifteen minutes after we left,” he said, glancing down at his watch. “She should be home by now.”

  Popping a ten dollar tip in the jar, Maria picked up the cups and slipped outside. “Okay, well, I think we’re good then,” she said, watching the light change and two unmarked SUVs head east into the city.

  “We’re still missing number three,” he replied.

  “Yeah, well, if I were number three, I would have headed back the other way, just in case we got off and then turned around and got back on the other way,” she said.

  She jogged up the stairs and walked over to Pete, handing him the cup of coffee.

  Taking a sip, he stared down the street. “Why don’t you give Liza a call?” he said. “Just in case someone is tracing my line.”

  Nodding, she punched in the number. “Hey girl,” she said. “How did your shopping go?”

  She paused and smiled. “Yeah, I totally love my new outfit,” she replied, grinning at Pete. “And it did what I wanted it to do. Swept that man off his feet.”

  She listened and nodded again. “Well, yeah, thanks. I’ll let him know,” she said. “See you tomorrow.”

  She hung up the phone and slid it into her pocket. “Your package was delivered safe and sound.”

  Exhaling slowly, Pete placed his cup in a carrier on his chair and rolled towards the car. “Thanks for your help,” he said.

  “No problem,” she said, climbing in on the other side, knowing enough about her boss to know that he did not want her help getting into his car and stowing his wheelchair away.

  He handed her his coffee, and she slipped it into the cup holder between the seats. Then he lifted his body up with his arms’ strength and slowly lowered himself into the driver’s seat.

  “Remind me to never a
rm wrestle with you,” she said.

  With a quick grin, he nodded. “I’ll do that.”

  He twisted back to his chair, flipped the releases that collapsed it and picked it up and placed it behind his seat. Turning back, he pulled his seatbelt across his body and started the car. “Ready to go home?” he asked.

  She nodded. “More than ready.”

  He maneuvered the car down the ramp and onto the street, driving north on Sheridan towards Maria’s condo. “Oh, by the way,” he said when he pulled up to the front of her building. “Today, well, this was above and beyond the call of duty. So, I’d like to do something for you.”

  Surprised, Maria turned to him. “Really, that’s not necessary…”

  “No, I insist,” he said, taking one of her hands in his and meeting her eyes. “Maria, you can keep the clothes.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  The quaint tavern sat on the corner of a quiet, Irish neighborhood. It didn’t advertise in any papers, didn’t run ads on any of the radio stations in the Chicago area and didn’t have an obnoxious neon sign blazing over the door. But every night it was filled with people looking for a good meal, a quiet place to meet and the company of old friends.

  About ten years earlier, because of a new city ordinance, the owners had put in a handicapped accessible ramp, a change that Pete was very grateful for as he rolled down the easy grade towards the big, oak door that had a simple wooden sign on it saying “Slainte,” an old Irish toast meaning “to your health.”

  Pete pulled the door open and slipped inside. Quickly scanning the room, he found Sean and Jamal at a corner table. He looked over to the bar and saw the owner, Robby O’Sullivan, wiping down the ancient wooden bar with a white towel. Pete had known Robby since he was a boy in high school, when Robby’s hair was still red, his inseam matched his waist size and his son had been one of Pete’s best friends. Now, the hair Robby had left was silvery white and the belly hiding under his apron overlapped his belt by more than a few inches.

  “Well, if it isn’t the mighty attorney come to share a glass with us,” Robby said as he tucked the towel into his back pocket. “I’m sorry, I am, that we don’t have none of them girlie drinks you’ve become so fond of.”

  A rousing chuckle spread across the dimly lit room like a soft wave.

  Pete paused near the bar and raised his chair, so he was eye to eye with O’Sullivan. “It’s not the drinks I’m fond of, Robby, my boy. It’s the girlies that come with them. They can’t keep their hands off me.”

  “Isn’t that the truth,” Katherine Mary O’Sullivan, Robby’s wife, called out as she came through the swinging kitchen door into the bar. With a tray filled with food in her hand, she quickly paused to give Pete a quick kiss on the lips. “If it wasn’t for my Robby, they’d have competition.”

  “If it wasn’t for Robby, there’d be no others to compete with,” Pete called after her, laughing at the swish of her hips and the cheeky wink she tossed back at him.

  “What will you have, Pete?” Robby asked with a grin.

  “Could you build me a Guinness?” he asked. “And what’s tonight’s special?”

  “Fish and chips with a side of house coleslaw,” he replied.

  “Sounds perfect,” Pete said. “I’ll be with O’Reilly.”

  He rolled across the room, shaking hands and being greeted by many of the regulars, and finally reached the corner table. Jamal sat in one chair with a large burger and steak fries in front of him. Sean sat next to him, his back against the wall and the door in plain sight, enjoying a Rueben sandwich.

  “Took you long enough,” Sean commented, scooping up a bit of ketchup with a steak fry. “I was worried I’d have to buy more food for Jamal.”

  Jamal smiled and took another large bite of his burger.

  “This kid must have a hollow leg,” Sean added.

  “I don’t have a hollow leg,” he argued with a grin. “I’m just a growing kid.”

  “Yeah, and I just bet you want dessert, too,” Sean said.

  His mouth full of food, Jamal could only nod his head eagerly.

  Pete snatched a fry from Sean’s plate, dipped it in the ketchup and tasted it. “Well, we had a little company on the drive home,” he said, lowering his voice and edging closer to the table. “But we lost them near Foster and Sheridan.”

  Nodding, Sean put his food down and leaned towards Pete. “Who were they?”

  “Unmarked, black SUVs,” Pete said. “They could have been anybody. But I’m guessing CPD.”

  Sean shook his head. “Yeah, I think you’re right,” he said. “And I’m not surprised.”

  “They didn’t hurt that little lady from your office, did they?” Jamal asked, the smile gone from his face.

  “No, Maria made it home safe and sound,” Pete told him and then turned to Sean. “Are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

  “Are you in?” Sean asked, picking up another fry and leaning back in his chair just before Katherine swept in with Pete’s plate.

  “Don’t you both look like you’re plotting something fearful,” she said, placing the food down in front of Pete and putting her hands on her hips.

  “Just saving the world again,” Sean said.

  Katherine stared at Sean for a moment and cocked her head slightly. “Why do I feel you’re telling me the truth of it?” she asked slowly, searching Sean’s eyes. “And why is my blood running cold?”

  “Don’t worry,” Pete replied. “When O’Reilly and O’Bryan work together, even the devil himself runs away.”

  “And we’re working together?” Sean asked.

  Pete lifted his Guinness in Sean’s direction and toasted him. “Slainte,” he replied before taking a sip of the dark ale.

  Sean picked up his glass of water and saluted his friend. “And to you,” he replied.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Pete rolled his chair across the scarred wooden floor of the tavern and stopped in front of the bar. He pushed the button on the arm rail, and the chair rose so once again he was eyelevel with Robby. Leaning forward, his forearm resting on the bar, Robby nodded. “What can I do for you?” he asked, his voice lowered.

  Pete smiled. Robby and Katherine were in the very small circle of people Pete considered trusted friends. They had helped him with a number of his cases, digging out information he couldn’t get because of both his handicap and his high profile. They were true blue and it had nothing to do with the fact that he had purchased this tavern for them when the owner was trying to close them down and sell the property to the city for a parking lot. They had been friends before and that’s what friends did for each other.

  Pete slid the keys to his car slowly across the bar surface, and Robby closed his hands over them. “I need to run an errand with Sean,” he whispered. “Could you put her in the garage when it’s a little quieter?”

  If someone were to overhear the conversation, they would assume Pete was speaking about the busyness of the tavern. But Robby knew Pete wanted the car hidden when there was nobody, especially police officers, around to witness it.

  Robby nodded. “I’ll see it’s done and I’ll place the keys in the usual spot,” he said.

  “You’re a good man, Robby O’Sullivan,” Pete said.

  “No better than the man I’m looking at,” Robbie replied.

  Lowering the chair, Pete rolled back, turned his chair and moved towards a small hall at the back of the taverns that housed the bathrooms and access to the storeroom. Katherine was waiting there, with Sean and Jamal, and a keychain in her hand. “I’m ready when you are,” he said.

  She pushed a key into the deadbolt to the storeroom and then shoved open the heavy door. The room was narrow and long, holding shelves with the accoutrements needed to run a thriving tavern. Katherine let them all in, then went behind, pushing the door closed and locking it behind them.

  “This is so cool,” Jamal whispered, looking at the shelves filled with large cans and jars.

/>   “Aye, but not so cool as the freezer,” Katherine said as she pulled on the latch of a metal door and revealed a large, walk-in freezer.

  The space was narrow, with metal shelves filled with all kinds of meat, as well as frozen desserts. Katherine led the way, followed by Pete with Sean holding onto the chair handles and pushing his friend across the slippery, frozen floor, with Jamal taking up the rear.

  “This is the only place we have a loading dock,” she explained as they walked to the other end of the freezer space. “So, it’s the safest place for you to exit the place.”

  Turning another lock, she pushed the door open and peered outside. “There’s no one about,” she said. “You’ll be safe.”

  It was more of an order than a question and Pete nodded. “Yes, we’ll be fine,” he said. “We just want to keep our little friend here under the radar.”

  Turning to Jamal, she smiled. “Well, you’re welcome back here any time, young man,” she said.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he replied. “You make some fine food here. My grandma would even like it.”

  She chuckled softly. “Well, that’s high praise indeed,” she said. “You be sure to bring your grandmother with you the next time you come.”

  “I will, ma’am,” he said with an eager nod. “I sure will.”

  Sean crept around Pete and out the door to the loading dock. He’d already parked his cruiser in the back but quickly jogged down the ramp to move the car closer to the building. In a matter of moments, Pete was in the passenger seat, his chair stowed in the trunk. Jamal was in the back seat and Sean was ready to put the car in reverse and pull out of the small lot near the alley.

  Sean glanced up and nodded to Katherine who waved and stepped back inside, pulling the door securely closed behind her. Then he turned to Jamal. “Okay, I need you to make yourself as short as possible back there,” he said. “And if we are coming up to any cars, you hit the cushions, got it?”

  Jamal nodded, a look of fear replacing the smile he’d just been wearing.

  “Hey, kid, don’t worry,” Sean said with an easy smile. “No one is going to catch us. I’m just taking precautions. That’s all.”