A Stranger's Wish (29 page)

I shivered as I turned back to Mr. Geohagan’s desk, and not from the cold. I stuffed all the papers in a large accordion folder they had obviously been in before. I was just reaching to open the left file drawer in the desk when the hair on the back of my neck began prickling. I made myself turn around.

Two men stood in the doorway, silently watching me.

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice a mere whisper.

I looked from one to the other. They appeared ordinary. One had on a down vest and jeans and a Braves baseball cap. The other had a neat haircut, glasses, and his rugby shirt could be seen beneath a fleecy anorak that looked straight out of L.L.Bean.

“If you’ll just get in your car and leave and make believe you’ve never been here today, we won’t bother you at all,” the one in the anorak said. “We have no quarrel with you.”

“What?” It wasn’t one of my better moments.

“Go. Get out. Leave now and you won’t get hurt.”

“Just beat it out of here, lady.” It was the man in the baseball cap.

He moved quickly toward me, and I had a flashback of this very man rushing down the steps at me. I backed away instinctively, bumping into the low arm of the easy chair. It caught me just behind my knees, and I fell backward into the soft, enveloping cushions.

Before I could extricate myself, he was beside me, grabbing me, pulling me upright, and pushing me toward the door. I stared in fascination at his hand on my arm. It was covered with a lightweight plastic glove.

“Hi,” said an unexpected voice.

We three spun toward the door.

The old gentleman from the office walked up to the garage. He smiled brightly at me. “I just wanted to be certain you were all right back here before I went home for the day.”

“She’s fine,” said Anorak Man. “We got here just a few minutes ago to help her move some of these things.”

“Funny,” the office man said. “I didn’t see you drive in.”

“You were busy,” Anorak Man said reasonably. “We just drove on back. Don’t worry about Kristie. We’ll take care of her.”

Somehow those words weren’t comforting.

I smiled weakly at the office man, unable to open my mouth because of the paralyzing effect of a small, round object rammed into my back. Braves Cap Guy was actually holding a gun on me, and I’d heard a small click as he released its safety!

Suddenly hospital beds and storage garages and elderly ending of days looked very attractive.

The garage man waved cheerily and walked back into the night. As he disappeared from my view, I felt I was losing my dearest friend.

“Good girl,” Braves Cap Guy said as he lowered the gun. He reached out to flick off the light in the garage. The darkness wrapped around me, scaring me, making me jumpier than I already was.

“Too bright,” he said. “Now get in your car and disappear. And don’t bother to send the police or draw pictures for them or anything. We know exactly where to find you, all cozy at that Amish place. And you’ll regret it if we have to find you, believe me.”

I believed him.

“Go!”

I started for the door, knowing that one or both of these men must be Mr. Stoltzfus’ watchers. But why in the world would anyone want to watch me?

But, of course, it wasn’t me. It was Mr. Geohagan’s papers. I was important only because I led them to the documents. As were my room and my purse important as they might provide some clue—or key—to the same thing.

Mr. Geohagan worked here rather than in his apartment to protect a secret. I looked at the desk and the papers resting there. Why were they so valuable?

Anorak Man saw my look and gave a low, wicked chuckle. I had last heard that laugh on the other side of a closet door.

I looked away quickly. If he thought I recognized him, he might not let me drive away so easily. I concentrated on Braves Cap Guy as he bent to pick up some papers that had fallen on the floor. As he bent, the beak of his cap hit the edge of the desk, and the cap fell to the floor.

Another non-surprise. Even though the light was faint, seeping into the garage from the lot lights, I easily recognized the man who had approached me in the woods. The cap, pulled down tight, had changed the lay of his ears to his head and covered his bald forehead. It had also made him look a little dim.

“Stupid,” said Anorak Man. “Look at her face. She recognizes you. She can identify you.”

Braves Cap Guy shrugged. “So what? She’s not going to.” He smiled at me, and all I could think of were night prowlers and beasts of prey, fangs dripping saliva in the moonlight.

“We can’t let her go,” Anorak Man was adamant. “ She’ll draw your picture for the cops, maybe not this week or next, but eventually. And then she’ll draw mine. She’s like that, honest and all. They’ll have you in no time. And then me.”

They stared at me, obviously trying to decide what to do. I wanted to yell that I’d keep quiet forever if they’d just let me go. But I knew they were right. I
would
draw their pictures or identify them from those huge books of mug shots everyone always studied on cop shows. I was like that.

“They said no rough stuff.” Braves Cap Guy looked uncertain.

“So what?” Anorak Man said. “I’m in charge here, and I say we don’t have a choice. We have to protect ourselves.”

We were all quiet for a few minutes. I was too frightened to be thinking about much of anything, but I was as sure as I could be that they were considering ways to dispose of me.

“Gimme the gun!” Anorak Man said to Braves Cap Guy. His voice was so abrupt I jumped. He sneered at my fear as he held out his hand.

Braves Cap Guy hesitated.

“Give me the gun!” Anorak Man repeated through clenched teeth.

I’d have given him my gun if I had one. There was something incredibly commanding in a nasty, evil way about this man.

“But it’s mine,” Braves Cap Guy whined.

Anorak Man just stared, one eyebrow slightly raised above his glasses. If I could learn his trick of domination, I could teach senior high, even junior high, any day.

Reluctantly Braves Cap Guy held out the gun.

Anorak Man took it casually and held it, safety still off, at his side. “Now back our car to the door so we can empty this stuff fast,” he ordered. “Then we’ll take care of her.”

As I stood with heart pounding and knees knocking, Braves Cap Guy, hat back in position, turned their car and opened the trunk. Casually he pulled out a tire iron, walked down three garages to the light and broke the bulb.

“Better get the next one too,” Anorak Man said.

In the disorienting darkness I heard another bulb shatter, and I hugged myself as if I could hold onto what little courage I still had. Violent, irrational men were much more terrifying in person than in any book or movie.

“No one can see us now. And don’t you try going anywhere.” He grabbed my arm. “The gun is still pointed at you.”

I couldn’t see it, but I believed him.

Braves Cap Guy laid down the tire iron, and in the faint illumination of the trunk light began emptying the desk and file cabinets. He lugged load after load as Anorak Man and I stood in the deep shadows and watched.

“Get every piece,” Anorak Man ordered. “Every single scrap of paper.”

“You could at least help,” Braves Cap Guy complained.

“And leave her alone?”

“Then she can help.”

Anorak Man shook his head, though I doubt the Braves Cap Guy saw. “I like knowing exactly what she’s doing. Just cut your grousing and move it.” He sighed as if he bore a great weight. “I can’t wait to get away from you and your whining!”

“I do not whine!” Braves Cap Guy spun and looked furiously at Anorak Man. As he did so, he lost his grip on the armload of papers he was carrying, and they slithered to the ground in a pulpy waterfall. An errant breeze caught some, and they fanned out across the drive.

“Stupid!” Anorak Man reached to catch a few sheets that fluttered in his direction.

As he reached, I pulled free and pushed. He fought for balance. I caught him in the rump with my foot, and he toppled over on his face. His gun went flying as he put his hands out to protect himself. It struck the ground and discharged. I could hear pings as the bullet ricocheted.

Braves Cap Guy screamed, but I couldn’t tell whether in pain or anger. And I didn’t wait to find out. I tore out the door and around the corner at the end of the line of garages into total blackness. My heart hammered in my throat as I put my hands out in front of me and ran sightlessly. Any risk was better than standing around docilely, waiting to be shot. My back itched and I hunched my shoulders as I anticipated the smash of a bullet into my body.

I flew around a second corner and felt true terror as I ran headlong into the grip of a third man.

19

M
y heart stopped as a hand clasped firmly over my mouth.

“Don’t make a sound,” a voice whispered in my ear.

I couldn’t have spoken if my life depended on it.

“Run!” it whispered.

Like I needed to be told to do that.

I fled willingly behind the sprinting figure. We rounded one corner, then another, zigzagging through the rows of garages. Now that I was back in the main part of the complex, the little lights on the garages showed us the way. Of course, they would also show the bad guys the way.

Shouts and shots followed us as Anorak Man and Braves Cap Guy gave chase, but we always managed to be at least a corner ahead. Even so, my back twitched and I imagined the staggering impact of a bullet tearing through sinew and spine, piercing the heart,
my
heart.

We stopped to catch our breath in the shadows of a rented moving van parked before a storage unit. It was in that moment that I realized my rescuer was Clarke. He held out his arms, and I buried my face in his chest and clung. My legs were like spaghetti, and my breath rasped. I’d never been so terrified and so happy in my life.

“What are you doing here?” I panted.

“Are you all right?” he said into my hair. His arms were a steel vise clamping us together. All the worries and conjectures of the few days fell away.

A shout from Anorak Man sounded just around the corner, and Clarke and I broke apart. I made a strange little hiccupy noise as I swallowed a scream.

He grabbed my hand and we dived to the ground together, rolling under the moving van. We lay huddled in the middle, arms wrapped around each other. Any other time it would have been my current version of heaven to be so entwined, but now all I could think was,
Lord, don’t let any of our feet be hanging out, okay?

“You check down this aisle,” yelled Anorak Man. He was mere yards away, so close my skin retracted in aversion. “I’ll go to the gate to make sure she doesn’t get out there. We can’t let her escape!”

Footsteps thundered toward us and came to a stop beside the truck. I stared at a pair of black-and-white sneakers just inches from my face, as mesmerized by them as a cobra is by the charmer’s music. The heels were toward me, and I could see that Braves Cap Guy ran the left one down pretty badly. Bad hip? Who cared?

I was afraid to breathe, though Braves Cap Guy was puffing so hard he probably wouldn’t have heard me if I had a major sneezing fit.

The sneakers turned to face the truck. The toes were scuffed and one lace was undone. Maybe he’d trip the next time he ran, we should be so lucky. Of course, that might mean that we were also running, having been discovered down here.

“Okay,” yelled Braves Cap Guy. “Come out of there!”

I flinched as if he’d hit me, and I felt Clarke go rigid beside me. How had he known? A reasoned guess? Maybe I’d underestimated him. Or maybe it was just luck? Or was something hanging out after all? A foot? A jacket?

Oh, Lord, please, no!

The black-and-white sneakers walked right up to my nose, and I squeezed my eyes shut on the if-I-can’t-see-him-he-can’t-see-me premise.

“Out!” he ordered. And he yanked the door of the truck cab open.

Clarke and I sagged with relief.

Braves Cap Guy swore as he slammed the door shut. In frustration he swung his tire iron viciously into the side of the truck just inches from me, not once but twice. The clanging of metal on metal at such close quarters reverberated inside my head.

Braves Cap Guy stood quietly beside the moving van, listening. Then he turned away and rounded a corner.

Relief made my ears buzz. In the warm flush of temporary safety I thought I would be happy just lying here all night beside Clarke. Surely the men would decide to leave with the revealing light of morning, and then everything would return to normal, whatever that was.

Clarke tightened his arm around me and pulled me close.

“We’re going up,” he whispered in my ear. “It’s too dangerous here!”

Up? Up? To what? And how?

He rolled out from under the truck, and I followed. He quickly climbed onto the vehicle’s hood, reached down, and pulled me up after him. When he said up, he meant it quite literally.

I cringed at the pop and crack of the metal underfoot. Surely Braves Cap Guy would hear, would come flying around the corner and catch us midclimb. The thought of his tire iron across my shins or knees made me shiver uncontrollably.

“Hurry!” I whispered, as if Clarke needed my encouragement.

He clambered up the windshield to the roof of the cab and then onto the roof of the truck body, and I climbed right after him. In a quick surge of movement he was on the garage roof. He turned to give me a hand, but I was already crouched on the roof beside him.

Suddenly Anorak Man raced down the passage below us, and we fell flat. A small cloud of dust rose about us as years of accumulated roof dirt was disturbed. I fought the urge to sneeze by rubbing my nose like mad.

“Did you hear that?” Anorak Man hissed.

Braves Cap Guy limped behind him, winded and unhappy. “What?” he gasped. “I didn’t hear nothing.”

Anorak Man snorted. “Of course you didn’t. How could you? You’re panting too hard to hear anything. I can’t stand it! Why do they keep making me work with you? You drive me crazy!”