Dirty Blonde (21 page)

“The secret I keep from myself?” Cate made woo-woo fingers in the air.

“Go ahead. Make fun.”

“I have a better idea. Instead of figuring out my secret, I’ll sue the bastards. I don’t want a TV show about me, you,
or
Warren. We don’t need that, and I have the dough to fight it. I’ll send Sorian to wage World War III. Beecker has the firepower to do it.”

“Cate, I don’t know if you should sue.”

“Why? I want to. I have the money. I’m not sure I’ll lose because I don’t think it’ll get to the merits. I’ll make them give it up. I want to take a shot.”

“But you have to think about it, don’t just react.”

“When somebody hits you, you gotta hit back.” Cate heard her mother in her own voice.

“But then all you have is a fistfight,” Gina said, frowning like she used to when she practiced law, and Cate could see she was her old self, analyzing a legal problem. “You’ll never get the TRO, and they could counterclaim, so there’s that risk. They have tons of dough, way more than you. As a practical matter, it could make things worse for me and Warren.”

“Why?”

“Right now, nobody knows me or the baby. If you sue, making a big deal out of it, then they will.” Gina nodded, thinking aloud. “You’ll get the heat. I mean, I can imagine there’ll be newspaper articles once the series comes out, linking you as the judge in the case. But I don’t think the press will be as interested in us, unless you sue.”

“You think?” Cate recalled that Matt had said roughly the same thing, but she remained unconvinced.

“I mean, I know why you don’t want a show about your life, and I know why you’d sue to stop it. But what’s right for you might be wrong for Warren and me. You can take the heat, but can he?” Gina’s expression was stricken, and they both knew the answer. “I mean, I guess I’d be asking you to sacrifice your interests to his.”

Cate felt torn, but knew how that would have to come out.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to decide now, do you? Sorian said to sleep on it, so maybe you should.”

“You telling me to listen to my lawyer?”

“The phone call probably cost you a grand.” Gina leaned forward again, shifting conversational gears. “You know, the show’s not what I’m worrying about. I’m worrying about that crazy detective. I wish you had your bodyguard tonight.”

“I know. I almost didn’t come.”

“Please, not for us. For you. It’s you that Russo’s after, and he’s experienced enough to know how to strike when you’re on your own. You should stay here tonight, so you don’t have to drive home in the dark.”

“No, I’ll be fine.” Cate checked behind her, automatically. She’d left the living room light off, so she could peek through the curtains to the street without being seen. She’d checked three times until Gina yelled at her to stop.

“If you think you’ll be fine, why do you keep checking the street?”

“Just to be sure.” Then Cate got an idea. “Hey, it’s trash night, right?”

“Yes, why?”

“Nothing.” Cate was already on her feet, going to the sink and opening the base cabinet.

“Why are you stealing my trash?”

“I want to scope things out. See if the coast is clear before I go. You get Warren ready for bed.”

“Is this the babysitting part?” Gina rose, going over to the baby, who was tapping his mirror, in the high chair. “I didn’t even get to go food shopping.”

“I’ll come back tomorrow night if you want. Better yet, I’ll make my bodyguard do it.”

“Maybe he’ll be cute. All the celebrities date their bodyguards.”

“Not happening.” Cate yanked the white kitchen bag out of the plastic trash can and tied the red plastic drawstring, catching a whiff of discarded salmon skin. “Guess where I’m going on Saturday night? Out with Graham the Stockbroker Man.”

“Really? That’s great!” Gina kissed Warren on the top of his head as she unlatched the fabric belt that held him in the high chair, and he had no reaction. “See, most kids with autism don’t want to be touched at all, but Warren’s not like that. He never was. He likes when I kiss his head.”

Cate felt a twinge.
I should sue those jerks, for sport.

“Don’t you, buddy?” Gina kissed Warren again, and he blinked, clutching his mirror. “You like when I kiss your head, don’t you? You’re a great kid, you know that?” She hoisted the child to her hip as Cate went to the threshold with the trash.

“Call the cops if I’m not back in five minutes.”

Gina frowned. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not kidding.”

CHAPTER 27

Cate stepped out into the bitter cold, and on contact, her breath became a chain smoker’s fog, wreathing her face. She held her coat close to her neck and carried the trash bag in her free hand. She walked down the front steps, head down as if she were watching her footing, but she kept sneaking looks at the cars parked along Meadowbrook. There were more now than when she had first come; people had arrived home from work and parked their second cars on the street, so it was bumper-to-bumper along the curb. Many of the cars were dark, but after a few looks to the left of Gina’s house, Cate could see as far as eight cars down, in the bright, purplish light cast by the streetlight. She scanned the far and near sides of the street. One each side, all six driver’s seats were empty.

Good
.

She walked down the driveway, alongside the Pathfinder and the Mercedes, making an apparent beeline for the dented steel trash can at the curb. When she reached it, she made a show of grabbing the metal handle, freezing in her bare hand, pulling off the lid, and moving the white trash bags that were already inside, as if she were making room. The street looked quiet. Many of the cars were dark, but it was nighttime and there was no streetlight in that direction, so it was dimmer than the other side.

If I were a bad guy, I’d park on the dark side.

Cate stole a glance to the right side and dropped the trash bag in the can. She could only see four cars down on either side of the street, because the streetlight faded at the perimeter. She was squinting past the fourth, making a fuss over closing the trash can lid, when she saw a sudden movement. In one of the cars. On the far side of the street.

There
.

Cate tried not to panic. Had she seen it? Was it her imagination? It looked like a shadow in the car across the way. About six cars down, on the edge of the light, in shadow. The front-door lights from the houses only generally illuminated the area. She faked a big deal of clanging the trash can lid around and fitting it on tightly, as if she were afraid of marauding raccoons, not scary detectives. She snuck another look at the sixth car. A shadow. It was there, in the driver’s seat. The car was dark. She tried to read the license plate but it was too dark. It could be him.

I’m outta here.

Cate forced herself to walk slowly up the driveway to the front walk, then up the steps, and inside the house. Her heart began to hammer, and she didn’t take a breath until she got inside and locked the door behind her. The living-room light was back on, and Gina was coming downstairs.

“He went down like a dream,” she said happily, then stopped when she read Cate’s expression. “He’s
there
?”

“I swear, I saw something.” Cate tried not to panic her. Or herself. “Don’t get all Lucy and Ethel about it.”

“What did you see? Where?”

“In one of the cars.” Cate pointed to the right. “On the far side of the street.”

Gina’s eyes flared. “You’re kidding.”

“Quick.” Cate crossed to the table lamp and switched it off, plunging them both into darkness.

“You really think you saw something?”

“I want to make sure.” Cate went over to the window and moved aside the curtain, peering at the dark street. It was harder to see at a distance and in the parallax view, and she inched so close to the window she could feel the frost on her nose.

“What do you see?” Gina came to her side, trying to look out, too.

“I knew this would turn into Lucy and Ethel.”

“It’s inevitable.”

“Shhh, I’m counting.” Cate counted the cars to the one where she thought she saw the shadow. Three, four, five, six. There was a distinct shadow in the driver’s seat, low in the seat, as if he were slouching down. She drew back, closed the curtain, and looked at Gina in the dark. “Why would he park there, ahead of the house? How can he watch the house with his back to it?”

“Meadowbrook’s one-way. If he parks past the house, he can follow you out when you go.”

“Right.” Cate thought ahead. He must have come when they were having dinner. Or earlier and planted himself. He could have been there all afternoon, a crazy cop sitting in front of Gina’s house. “I shouldn’t have come. I jeopardized you and the baby.”

“I’m calling 911.” Gina went for the phone on the end table, but Cate was getting another idea.

“Go, do it. Tell them who I am, that’s working well lately. And say his name is Russo, because the cops are looking for him. Dark blue car, looks like a Ford. We can’t see the plate.” Cate dashed out of the living room and into the kitchen, where the lights were still on. She hustled to the knife rack on the counter and pulled out the biggest, scariest knife she could find and ran back to the living room, hiding it behind her back, even in the dark.

“Two-sixty-three Meadowbrook Road,” Gina was saying into the phone. “He’s parked in the dark blue Ford, six cars up from my house. On the even-numbered side of the street. Yes, that’s right. Fante. F-AN-T-E. No, F-A-N—”

Maybe I don’t have the clout I thought.
“Be right back.” Cate opened the front door a crack and slipped outside.

“No, wait! Where are you going?”

Cate shut the door and was already outside in the cold. She instantly dropped behind a shrub, so he couldn’t see her, and bent over more, kicking off her pumps so they didn’t make any noise. Crouching low, she scurried in bare feet around the front of the Mercedes to its far side, traveled low along the Pathfinder, then darted across the sidewalk and stopped behind the parked car. She prayed nobody would start walking their dogs as she crouched lower and dashed across the street, ripping the toes of her pantyhose on the street grime, her feet turning to ice. In two seconds, she was on the other side of the street, hiding behind the back of an SUV, breathing hard.

Yikes
. Cate covered her mouth so the breath fog wouldn’t show. Then she waited. Breathing as shallowly as possible, as low as possible. Forcing herself to wait. It wouldn’t take long for the cops to get here. They’d used the magical Fante name, so famous it had to be spelled. Twice.

Cate waited and waited in the cold for the right moment. She couldn’t be early, but she couldn’t be late, either.

Now
.

She braced herself, holding the knife at her side, then took off, sneaking around the filthy bumper of the SUV to the curb and climbing up, alongside the parked cars. In the distance she heard sirens, too far away.

Wait
.

After another minute, she inched forward, making a hump of her back, trying to ignore her freezing feet. The sirens sounded closer, and Cate moved along the car. She hoped Russo wouldn’t drive away. He wouldn’t know the sirens were for him, because she’d been so clever with her trash-can show.

The sirens got closer, and she moved forward to the fifth car, then waited. She moved along the length of the fifth car, creeping to the fourth. The sirens sounded only blocks away, and she could see curtains being pulled aside in the town houses. Lights went on, here and there.

She inched to the third car, her heart almost leaping from her chest. Her knees aching. Her feet freezing.

Hurry. Hurry.

The twin sirens sounded as if they were right at the development. The entrance was only three blocks from Meadowbrook. Cate prayed they wouldn’t get lost.

Suddenly she heard a noise closer, only a car away, coming from the sixth car. Exhaust burst from its tailpipe, a chalky explosion, almost in her face. Sirens blared in the next block. Russo was turning on the ignition.

He was going to get away.

Neighbors started coming out of their houses, curious. Sirens screamed louder than ever. White reverse lights on the sixth car blinked on, momentarily blinding.

Now!

Cate rushed the car from behind, coming out of her full crouch just as the lights blinked to red and the car started to go forward. She raised the big knife like a psycho killer, plunged it with all her might between the treads of the car’s back tire, and yanked it out, in one desperate motion.
Pssssst!
Smelly air sprayed from the tire hole.

“You can’t get away now, you bastard!” Cate shouted, springing up. The dark car moved forward, only slowly, sinking in the back where she’d slashed the tire.

Two police cars sped onto Meadowbrook, tearing down the street, converging on the moving car from opposite directions. The cruisers slammed to a halt, blocking the hobbled car, then all the cruiser doors popped open and patrol officers poured out on all sides, drawing their guns instantly on the dark car.

“Freeze! Police!” they all shouted at once, adrenalized, their bodies jittery shadows in the high beams of the idling cruisers.

“That’s him! Get him! Careful!” Cate almost cheered. Neighbors flowed from the town houses, and Gina ran toward her.

“Come on out, you won’t get hurt!” the cops kept shouting. “Take it easy! Hands in the air!” They aimed their revolvers, two-handed grips, on the dark car, which was sinking in the middle of the street. Cate held her breath while the driver’s-side door opened and she saw the backs of two hands rising in the night air.

“Don’t shoot! I’m a cop!” came a shout from the dark car.

“He’s a
crooked
cop!” Cate shouted back. “Watch out! He broke into my house! My office!”

Gina ran up to her side, panting. “He followed her here! He’s crazy!”

“Get out of the car, sir! Get out of the car!” the cops shouted, their weapons trained.

In the next second, Cate saw the back of a black watch cap emerge from the driver’s seat, and two cops lowered their weapons and rushed him as a team, flipping him facedown against the car, disarming him, wrenching his hands behind his back, then handcuffing him.