The doorbell buzzed once again.
“Open up. Police.”
Chryssie stared at the door. No way she was going to miss her final exam. And that’s exactly what would happen if she started talking with the police now. She’d worked too hard to get to this point. She wasn’t going to let Gabriella down. Nothing would stop her.
“Open up. We gotta talk with you.”
She tip-toed to the door and peeked out of the security hole that she’d installed herself. Mr. Roberts hadn’t been happy about it.
Two men stood there, and they didn’t look anything like police. In fact, they could be the guys from last night. But she wasn’t sure since she hadn’t seen their faces. But they were the right size.
If they were the guys who’d chased her, that meant…The truth crashed in on her. The murder. The men who’d chased her last night. The men standing at her door now. It all had to be connected. Why hadn’t she called the authorities as soon as it had happened? Her part would be all over now if she had.
So what if she’d missed a little study time? She’d messed everything up—again. Because she’d taken the easy way—again. It was too late now. Now she had to get to that final. In a few more hours she’d go to the police and tell all.
Another knock. “We know you’re in there. Let us in. You ain’t getting away this time.”
This time? Definitely the men from last night. There was no way she was opening that door. Stop panicking. That wouldn’t help anything. She took a deep breath. Think. Think. She had to get out of here. Of course, the fire escape. The apartment was an old building with fire escapes on the outside.
The doorbell buzzed again. “Look, we know you’re in there. Open up so we can talk with you. We’re the police, we need to talk with you. We ain’t gonna hurt you.”
Yeah, right. They don’t want to talk to me. They want to make sure I don’t talk to the real police. Chryssie checked her pockets to make sure she had her extra car key and the money. Money—she might need more. Going back to the tip jar, she pulled out all the cash, stuffing it into her jeans as she ran to her bedroom.
As she opened the bedroom window, she heard another loud knock. They were getting very impatient. Impatient enough to break in? Maybe or maybe not. She wasn’t waiting around to see. She crawled through the window.
Her footsteps echoed as she ran down the metal fire escape.
6
Chryssie jerked as the pencil dropped out of her hand and thudded on the desk top. She shook her head in an effort to stay awake. The words on the test blurred together. The few hours of sleep she’d had in the past forty-eight hours was starting to take effect. Her body was rebelling. Her mind couldn’t focus.
As she looked around, it didn’t seem as if anyone had noticed her mini-nap. All the other students’ heads were down, concentrating on the test. There was no way she’d pass as exhausted as she was.
Wrong decision—again! It would have been better to go to the police, and then get some much-needed sleep. But the university had said absolutely no make-ups. They probably would have made an exception. And even if they hadn’t, Chryssie would have been able to take the test again in three months. Of course that was three more months of Gabriella living in a foster home.
She squinted at the paper. The words came into focus. One question at a time. She picked up her pencil. After triple-checking her answers, Chryssie walked up and laid the test on her professor’s desk.
Dr. Lasky looked up with a smile. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you at graduation. You’ve been one of the best students I’ve had in years. It’s been a pleasure having you as a student.”
“Thanks.” Chryssie smiled, not bothering to explain she wouldn’t be marching in the ceremony. That took money—money that could be better spent on getting her sister out of foster care. And even if she did march, there’d be nobody to clap for her. “You’re a great teacher. I’ve learned so much from you.”
“Be sure to use me as one of your references.”
A woman walked into the room. Her gaze roved around looking at each student. The woman held up the picture, frowned and checked out the students again.
Chryssie caught a glimpse of the paper and stared at herself. Well, not herself, but Glitter, with wig and makeup. Her driver’s license photo. Why was this woman looking for her?
Chryssie couldn’t breathe. Tearing her gaze away, she swallowed hard. She fought every instinct to run out of the room. Instead she walked out as if she didn’t have a care in the world. She chanced a glance back.
The woman continued down the aisle between desks. As she approached Dr. Lasky, she pulled something from her pocket. A badge?
How had they found her here? And why were they looking for her? Not wanting to call attention to herself, she walked fast without actually running. Heart racing, she made her way across the campus, not daring to look behind her. Any second now, she’d be in cuffs and hauled off to jail. She took a deep breath. Her imagination was running wild. Why would they arrest her? Maybe she should have come forward sooner. Could she be charged for failing to report a crime?
Chryssie looked back at the three-story brick building. She didn’t see the woman. Maybe it hadn’t been a badge she pulled out to show Dr. Lasky. The woman could have been someone from the college and simply showing her ID. There was no reason to believe she was police.
But it was time to talk with the police. She hiked across the campus toward the Student Union where she could find a cab to go to the police station. But first, she needed to eat. She couldn’t remember when she’d eaten last. Yesterday? After buying a hot dog and a soda, she plopped down on a sofa. The big screen TV took up most of one wall and was tuned to the local news. Glitter’s picture flashed on the screen.
Chryssie almost dropped the soda. She barely caught the newswoman’s words, “…was wanted for questioning in the murder of Lonnie Davis, who was found dead in an alley near the flats two nights ago.”
Panic coursed through her veins. There’s no way they could know she’d been there. Her mind flashed back to the man in the alley, grabbing her hand, forcing her fingers around the gun. The police had her fingerprints. On the murder weapon. How could she have been stupid enough to forget that? Oh, why hadn’t she gone to the police right away? This was much worse than she’d ever imagined. But if she went to the police now, they might arrest her. Not might—would!
She needed help. She didn’t really have anybody to turn to—except maybe Zack. But was he the right person? His long blond ponytail and muscled tattoos might mean he had a past, too. He might even be a criminal for all she knew. Every time she’d tried to talk to him about his job, he’d simply ignored the question or changed the topic.
She took a deep breath. Calm down, Chryssie. Panicking won’t fix the situation. Who else could she go to? Maybe her boss could help. Marv wasn’t a simple bar owner. That was only one of his businesses. He would probably know some lawyers.
Keeping her head down, Chryssie scurried out of the Student Union feeling as if every eye in the place was staring at her. She made her way to where cabs waited for fares. She opened a car door. “I need to go downtown.”
“Sure thing. Where downtown?”
“The Flats.”
“Sounds good. Celebrating the end of the semester, huh?”
“Something like that.” Not hardly.
“East side or west side?”
“West side.”
“Well, be careful. There was a murder not far from the flats the other night. It’s a pity. I don’t know what this world’s coming to.”
“Yeah.”
“I have a buddy who’s a cop. He says they have a good lead on this one.”
“Oh, really. What are they saying?”
“They’re looking for some woman bartender. According to my buddy, they’re pretty sure it’s her. I guess her prints were on the gun. But don’t tell anyone I said that. It’s privileged information.”
She cringed, still n
ot believing that she’d forgotten something that crucial. No wonder the guy stopped chasing her. He had a much better way to deal with the mess. Make them think she’d killed that poor kid. She’d be in prison and he’d be on the streets—free to kill again. “Oh…well, that’s good.”
He pulled up to the restaurant she’d named. “Here you go.”
After she paid him, she made a show of walking toward the front doors. The moment the cab drove away, she walked up the hill toward the bar. Breathing deeply, Chryssie fought back tears. The police believed she’d murdered that man.
She’d never get Gabriella now. All her hard work would mean nothing now. She’d never be allowed to visit her sister let alone get custody of her.
How would she get out of this mess? Hopefully, Marv would know what to do. After she got her car, she’d park out front and go talk to him. She didn’t care if he got mad that she would take a customer’s parking place. She was pretty sure this counted as an emergency.
7
Her prints on the gun wouldn’t be easy to explain away, but surely Marv would understand after she told him what happened that night. But it seemed ridiculous even to her. Her mind flitted from one thought to another, none of them connected, as she walked up the steep hill.
She counted up her hours of sleep since the night of the murder. Six hours in the last fifty-five. No wonder she wasn’t thinking clearly. She turned the corner. Her heart skipped a beat.
A police car was parked in front of the bar in the no parking zone.
Maybe it was just a coincidence?
Chryssie couldn’t take the chance. She didn’t want to face the police without a lawyer. She’d just get her car, go home, and sleep. Then she’d figure out what to do next. Sleep would help her to think more clearly.
She sprinted across the street and into the alley. The moment her feet hit the pavement, the memory of that night took over. She leaned against the building to keep from falling down. Her knees shook and she was barely able to breathe. Fighting back the panic, she forced herself to move toward her car. Each step brought back the terror of that night.
Oh, why hadn’t she just called the police that night? When would she learn that doing the right thing was always the right thing to do, whether it was easy or not?
Staring down the alleys, she could almost hear the pop, pop, pop of the gun. She could almost smell the stench from the garbage bin she’d hid behind. Remembering the terror of the gun pointing at her made her tremble.
Chryssie shook away the memories. Stay focused. In the present.
But what if the police convinced Marv of her guilt? Would he turn her in the moment she contacted him? It might be better if she called Zack. But then he shouldn’t be involved in her mess, either. Marv probably had better connections than Zack anyway.
With that settled, she forced her feet to move down the alley.
Her car was right where she’d left it two nights ago. Only two nights? It seemed like a month. A few people walked to their own cars, some with shopping bags. This lot was a bit of a walk from the shops and restaurants in the flats, but parking was free.
She stared at her car, unable to move. Not able to shake the bad feeling, Which was almost a feeling of impending doom. But she couldn’t just stand there forever. Besides the feeling was probably from lack of sleep.
Taking a deep breath, she moved toward her car. Pulling her key out of her jean’s pocket, she jogged the rest of the way. As she was about to insert the key, she heard a noise behind her.
The sound of a van door sliding open reached her ears. A man rushed at her. At the same time another man jumped out of the van.
Before she could get the door open, the two men grabbed her arms. Chryssie screamed, but the man’s hand muffled the sound. As she kicked and struggled, the two men dragged her to the van. They heaved her inside and tossed her on the floor. One of the men straddled her. His hand moved to her mouth once again.
“Keep her quiet,” a voice said.
Chryssie bit the hand over her mouth.
The man called her a name and his fist connected with her face.
Pain exploded…then the stars…and then darkness.
****
The darkness in Chryssie’s mind slowly transformed from black to gray and then to reality. Abducted. Once again, she’d made the wrong decision. She should have gone to the bar and faced the police. Now she was in big trouble.
The man who’d hit her leaned against the driver’s seat talking to the driver. “I had to do that. It wasn’t my fault.”
“Tell it to the boss, not me. He’s the one who told you not to hurt her.”
Was the boss the man in the alley? She’d seen him before—she was certain of it. Was it TV? Or the newspapers? She didn’t think so. He must be someone that came into the bar occasionally but not often enough for her to remember.
But it didn’t matter who he was at the moment. Getting out of this van before they killed her was the only thing that mattered. Whoever the man was, he was a killer. She’d seen that with her own eyes. Killing her to keep his secret was a no-brainer.
Police and self-defense experts said to never let a kidnapper take you to another location, so she needed to get out. And quick. An idea formed, but it was a crazy one. Before she could change her mind, she jumped up and grabbed the back door handles.
“Hey…”
She didn’t hear the rest of his sentence as she tumbled out of the van. Chryssie managed to curl up in a ball as she landed full force on the pavement. Her shoulder banged on the road, but she’d managed to protect her head.
The pain momentarily stunned her.
A woman walking down the sidewalk stopped. Her mouth dropped open.
Moving to her knees, Chryssie waved her hands, “Help me.”
The woman went into action. A look of determination settled on her face as she ran toward Chryssie. “Are you OK?”
The van screeched to a stop. The would-be kidnapper marched toward them. His face was an angry mask of rage. His fists were balled and ready for action. The same fist that had knocked her unconscious moments before.
The woman charged at Chryssie’s attacker and her hand moved toward his face. The next second the man bent over and moaned as her rescuer ran back to Chryssie. She grabbed her arm and propelled her forward. “Come on. That pepper spray won’t stop him for long.”
Two other men were running toward them.
The woman tugged on her arm. “Hurry. We have to get out of here. Run.”
As her stunned senses came back, Chryssie ran faster. She yelled out at the woman. “You need to go. I don’t want you to get involved in this mess.”
“I can’t leave you.”
“Yes, you can. I’ll be OK. Thanks so much for helping me.” Chryssie had to get to the police. Before they killed her.
“Are you sure?” Uncertainty colored the woman’s voice.
“Yes, and thanks so much. Keep running. Don’t let them find you.”
The woman let go of her hand. “God bless you.”
The words floated back to Chryssie as the distance between them grew. Yeah, if only that would happen. But God had abandoned her and her sister. Chryssie ran toward the bar, hoping the police would still be there. Footsteps banged behind her. Too afraid to look, she sprinted the last few steps and opened the door.
Marv walked out from behind the bar. “We’re not open yet.” He obviously didn’t recognize her without her wig and makeup.
“It’s me. Glitter. Chryssie.”
His eyes widened. “Sorry. I didn’t recognize you. What are you—”
She launched herself into his arms. “Help me. I’m in trouble.”
His arms went around her. She’d be OK now. Marv wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
“What are you talking about? What’s going on?”
“Two guys…van…chasing me.” She gasped as she sucked in air.
“Chasing you? What are you talking about?”
“Long story…police.” She took a deep breath. “Need …police.”
“Why would you need the police?” He hugged her tightly. “Just calm down.”
Hadn’t the police told him what was going on? Where were those men? Surely, they’d seen her come in. Why hadn’t they followed?
“Kidnapped…they kidnapped me. They put me in their van. I jumped out, but they started chasing me.”
“You jumped out of a van? While it was moving?” Marv moved his arms away from her, his face a mask of incredulity.
She nodded.
“Are you kidding me?”
She pointed at her face, now sore from the fist, and the scrapes from falling. “Does this look like I’m kidding?”
“No, it doesn’t. But you’re safe now. I’ll go look around.”
“Better take your billy club.”
“I’ll be fine.” He put an arm around her shoulder and led her to a table. “Sit here while I go check.”
Marv walked out the door.
Her heart still raced. She walked behind the bar and stared at the shelf filled with alcohol bottles. Maybe just this one time it would be all right to have a drink. Her mother’s drunk face swam before her eyes. She poured a glass of water instead.
Marv walked in. “Everything’s fine. Nothing to worry about, but I’m glad you’re here. I need to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“About me.” A man walked out of the back room.
8
The murderer.
Chryssie stared at the man, and then at Marv. Her mind froze. She turned back toward Marv. “You. I trusted…I can’t believe this.”
Marv was blocking the front entrance.
She turned toward the back.
Two men stepped out of the shadows. Even in the dimness of the bar, Chryssie recognized the men blocking the exit. They’d been chasing her all day.
“Don’t be afraid, Glitter. It’ll be fine.” Marv walked toward her. “You know I like you. As long as you’re cooperative, this’ll all work out. Win—win.”
Chryssie had nowhere to run. Her arms flew out as she shoved him. Unfortunately, Marv was ready. His arms surrounded her, and in the next moment the two men were beside her. She tried to fight them off, but they were stronger and bigger.
Broken Trust Page 4
