Giving It Up (28 page)

Raincheck. Business. Don’t wait up. —C

Well, shit. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what business stuff he could be up to tonight. Sure, there was the restaurant, but somehow I just knew it was Philip. It wasn’t like Colin to ditch me when we’d had plans, but he would go running if his brother called him.

I paced around the kitchen. Something might have gone wrong for Philip to call so last minute, and I worried it was a green-eyed cop in a tweed brown suit.

I hadn’t interfered with Colin’s business before, not since that night in my apartment when he’d made his stand clear. It required a certain amount of trust that he knew what he was doing. I wasn’t his keeper, and he didn’t need one. Then again, maybe I’d fucked up. I had thought I was doing him a favor by leading the cop in the wrong direction, but I hadn’t been brave enough to tell Colin they were trying to bust him. If he knew, he could be more cautious. If he’d known, he might have stayed with me or canceled the drop or so many other things. What if the cops had found the correct information, or hell, staked out this house and followed Colin when he’d left tonight?

That cop, he was dirty. The fact that he’d tried to blackmail me and hurt me was proof enough of that. He might not even arrest Colin. He could shoot first and ask questions later. If Colin ended up dead tonight…

Resolved, I called Colin’s cell. It rang and rang. Voice mail.

I hung up and glared at the phone.

I called again. Still voice mail. This time I left a message, babbling about calling me back right away, that I needed to talk to him, it was
important
, but that wasn’t good enough. He may not check his messages until after. He might be in trouble right now.

I did know where the drop was happening, the real one.

That was a bad idea, very bad. But as bad ideas tend to do, this one sprouted up like a weed, strangling all the others.

Picking up the phone again, I dialed Shelly.

“Hello?” She sounded anxious, which matched my mood.

“Shelly. I love you, sweetie, but can you please,
please
come watch Bailey?”

“I can’t, not now,” she said, sounding distracted. “Some bad shit is going down.”

“That’s what I’m worried about. There’s this drop, and Colin just left, and—”

“Wait a minute. Colin’s going tonight? He wasn’t supposed to.” The sharp edge to her voice startled me. Almost panicky.

“What’s going on? What do you know?” I demanded.

“Nothing,” she said, but I knew her too well.

“Shelly,” I warned. “Tell me what you know.”

“The cops,” she said. “They’re going to be there tonight.”

“No, they’re not,” I said. “I gave the guy a fake address.”

Silence on the line.

“Shelly?”

“I gave it to them,” she finally said.

“What? Why? No, never mind. Shit! I can’t even—I have to get to Colin. I’m going to call him again, but if he doesn’t answer, I need to go there.”

“I can’t come over,” she was saying over me. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. Philip’s missing. I thought he’d just gone out. I mean, he never goes to the drops personally. I didn’t think—”

“Shelly,” I interrupted her. “Call Philip. Get them both out of there.”

I hung up on her babbling and called Colin, only to cuss out his voice mail.

Deliberating only a second, I ran across the yard to Linda’s house and banged on the door. She opened the door wearing a robe and a face mask of white. It startled me momentarily, not that it was scary, despite its skull shape, but how ordinary it was to run through a nighttime beauty regimen. A contrast to the shit storm that was tonight.

“Hi, Linda. I’m so sorry to impose on you, so sorry, but would it be at all possible for you to come watch Bailey for an hour? She’s already asleep, so really you’d just have to sit there and—”

“Of course!” she said. “Don’t even worry about it.”

“Thank you so much. An emergency came up, a family emergency, so that’s—”

“Stop, dear. You don’t have to explain it all now. I can see you’re in a way. Now, you get back to her, and I’ll be right there.”

Thank God someone could think, because I probably would have babbled half the night away, just like Shelly had done. And, damn! I couldn’t believe Shelly had told the cops anything. It didn’t make sense. I should have known they’d be pushing for information from all angles, but why would Shelly talk to the cops? Maybe they’d threatened her. Well, of course they had. They’d threatened me, and Shelly was a prostitute, for God’s sake. Like taking candy from a baby, that’s how easy it would be for them to threaten her with arrest or worse.

I practically dug tracks into the hardwood as I waited for Linda to come over. I remembered the business card that the other detective had given me. What could I say if I called him?
I know my hooker friend gave you intel, but could you please do me a favor and not arrest my boyfriend?
Really I was the epitome of class and grace.

But maybe I could find out something. I darted upstairs and into the closet, where I searched through the folded shirts, looking for the envelope of money Jacob had given me, where I’d stored the business card. They weren’t related in any way except that they were things I’d hidden from Colin.

They were gone.

I flipped through the shirts again, then dumped them all out on the closet floor. No cards, no money, nothing. Then for good measure, I rifled through all the drawers. Nothing. It was like the Grinch had taken my Christmas, not even leaving the empty envelope behind.

I had a crazy thought that I’d imagined all of it. Colin was safe, and I’d only imagined my meeting with Jacob and the cops in some sort of housewife hallucinations. I indulged in those fantasies for half a second before snapping back to reality. Colin needed me.

Except Colin must have found the money and the business card. I rolled that over in my mind—he found them together. Would he have thought, was it possible he might think they were connected? That I’d gotten the money from the cops? And there was only one reason the cops would give me money like that: to betray Colin.

No, he’d know better. I wouldn’t betray him—I hadn’t—and he trusted me. He’d said as much to his brother when Philip had accused me of being an informant. But the money—fuck! And of course Colin had no idea that I’d even met with Jacob, much less that he’d given me money. This looked bad.

The discovery compounded the cluster fuck, but it didn’t change my purpose. If anything, it strengthened it. I couldn’t sit on my hands at home while Colin did God knew what with the wrong information. It could get him hurt—or arrested.

I peeked in on Bailey, sending up a quick prayer for her safety here at home. Back downstairs, Linda came in carrying a thick book. She hugged me hard, clasping me to her round body. I resisted as if a hug was a threat to me, but she held on until I slumped in her arms.

“Don’t worry, hon. Whatever happens, you’ll be okay, you know. Go on now.”

The words helped, which was strange, because they never had before. I stumbled from the house, hoping I was doing the right thing, hoping I wouldn’t be Colin’s downfall.

Some of my panic morphed into frustration as I circled the warehouses that huddled the one I was looking for. For blocks they went on, all large gray boxes, and none of them labeled. Around I went, peering at the tiny block numbers on the street signs, trying to make out the right section of street. Christ, if I was too late because of a fucking street sign…well, that would just be hilarious.

The streetlamps glowed meekly, suspended in the thick of the night. No grassy plots or stick-thin trees dotted this concrete landscape. They’d done away with any pretense that this place was natural.

Cars whirred by, oblivious to my worry. The people inside them surely had worries of their own, but to me those cars were just two bright lights tacked onto metal freight, part of the machinery. All backdrop.

I hadn’t identified the warehouse, but I found my stop anyway. Shelly’s car. Parked on the side of the road behind a long line of cars, innocuously dark. I pulled in behind her and cut the engine. We were in this together, after all.

The cars zoomed past my door, shaking my car like a bobblehead. At a break in the line, I opened the car door and clipped around to the curb. I started down the sidewalk when I heard a car door open behind me. My breath stuttered, and I whirled.

Shelly sat in the shadows of the backseat, head bent low.

“Christ, Shelly! You scared me.”

She scared me still, unmoving. I walked back toward her, or at least I tried to, but ended up making an arc on the sidewalk, keeping my distance. I squinted into the car—it was empty.

I approached cautiously and squatted in front of her. “Shelly? What’s going on?”

She lifted her face, streaked with tear tracks. “I made a mistake.”

“I know, shhh.” I tried to soothe. “Did you get ahold of Philip?”

She shook her head, and fresh tears spilled over.

“It’s okay. We’ll find them. We’ll fix this.”

“It’s too late,” she said.

“No,” I said, feeling clumsy. I wished I had a large, soft body made for comfort and the courage to give her a hug. “Whatever happens, we’ll be okay.”

I expected her to blow me off with an
I’m always okay, honey
, but she sniffled and wiped her face with her forearms like a child. We were too young for this. Not the skulking around at night—that was the propriety of youth. We were too young for our lives. Selling our bodies and making babies. But then again, when was anyone really ready to do those things?

It had felt like a betrayal when we’d grown up into the bodies and minds of adults but with all the cluelessness of children. Why had they—those
adults—
snapped at us to eat our vegetables and do our homework as if it mattered? When Shelly lay down and spread her legs, it sure as shit didn’t matter. And what could I teach Bailey about this world? Nothing I wanted her to know.

I pulled Shelly from the car and towed her behind me, looking for the right gray box. She followed, docile. Little girls do what we’re told. We learned that lesson early. Little boys pull our hair and run away, but only a tattletale tells.

This building was barren like all the rest, the rectangular gray walls cutouts against the dark. The door was just a regular door, undersized compared to the massive building.

There was nothing and no one. Hope thumped, that they must have changed the location or canceled the whole thing. We’d come all this way for no reason. Worried little wives…or whatever we were. I would go back home, and Colin would be there. I’d explain everything. Colin would be angry, but at least he’d know I hadn’t betrayed him.

A rustle sounded from around the side of the warehouse. The wind lapped against my face, but there weren’t bushes or anything else to make that shuffling sound. And I doubted there were animals around here, at least of the inhuman variety.

“Go back to the car,” I told Shelly. She was almost catatonic with her quietness and downcast eyes. If something went down here, she’d get hurt.

The low murmur of voices carried on the wind.

“Go,” I hissed.

Shelly tightened her hand on mine.

The voices grew louder, and I dragged her toward the other side of the warehouse, thinking at least we’d stay out of sight. There was a long truck planted there, like one of the rigs my dad had driven. The back of the truck was rolled up, caught with its pants down, but no one was around. A stage with no actors, except for us.

I pulled us both back flat against the front of the warehouse. My instincts screamed to get us both back to my car. I would be able to breathe again when we were doing sixty on the highway, any direction that was away. But I’d come here to find Colin. What had I expected—concierge service?

I edged down the wall to the door. The handle actually turned, just like that, but perhaps when you had big enough guns, locks became superfluous.

Peeking inside the door, I saw only shadows and darkness. Nothing but a big, empty room, I told myself. Only children are afraid of the dark.

I didn’t really want to bring Shelly in with me, but I couldn’t leave her out here alone. We slipped inside.

The warehouse was cavernous, with supports and ducts protruding from the ceiling. Huge crates splayed across the floor at odd angles as if they’d drifted, glaciers. An eerie glow from the rafters lit the space.

An imaginary block of ice slid down my spine. This was all wrong. If they’d moved or canceled the drop, as I’d hoped, then there’d be no one, not even the voices I heard around the side. If they hadn’t and the drop was still here and such a big fucking deal, then there should be more people, more activity.

I heard Colin’s voice in my head.
“No
,
”
he had said in his dreams.
“It’s a trap.”

We had to get out of here. At the very least I should bundle Shelly up in her car and send her off, assuming she was good to drive. As selfish as it felt, I decided to get out of there. I would have to hope Colin could take care of himself. I had Shelly to worry about now.

I turned back to the door as it swung shut. It was just the wind, had to be.

I put my hand on the knob. It didn’t turn. I jiggled it again, then yanked, then banged, but the door stayed shut. It was locked—someone was out there.

I stared at the door, breathing heavily.

Shelly broke her silence. “He must have found out.”

I barely processed her words, my mind banging against the futility of our situation.

“It’s for the best.” Shelly heaved a sigh. “I wish you weren’t here, though.”

Who would lock us in? Was it better to try and wait them out, maybe arm ourselves with whatever we could find? Or should we call out to them, try to reason or bluff our way out?

“Do you think,” she said musingly, “they’ll give Bailey to your dad?”

“What?” Her words sank in. I backed Shelly up against the ribbed metal wall, shaking her, bullying her, furious that she would even say such a thing. “Have you gone insane? You have, haven’t you? I could kill you! We aren’t going to die. We
aren’t
. We’re getting out of here, and I’m going home to Bailey. You can do whatever crazy shit floats your fucking boat, but leave me out of it. Do you understand? Do you?”