Page 18 (1/2)
"My father’s dying," she said to the"All that talk about optiot two months, no more"
I wasn’t sure what to say I’m sorry wouldn’t have been exactly sincere
Before I could decide,
Madeleine scowled "My father shouldn’t have given that back to you"
"I forgot about it"
"Don’t answer"
I checked the display The nu froencies She never used it She hated phones
I swore silently, then answered the call
A man’s voice said: "Who is this?"
My heartbeat syncopated until I realized who I was talking to
"Sam," I said "It’s Tres"
"I know that, da me, Sam? Where’s Mrs Loomis?"
"They can probably trace this I told her it was a bad idea"
"Sam, I’m on the run here Are you okay?"
"I told her not to worry Irritating woht "What gunshot?"
"Mine, damn it I’ve had worse I don’t want you to coht seconds later, over Madeleine’s and Ralph’s stereophonic protests, I was ordering the chauffeur to turn the car around, giving him directions to my office in Southtown
FEBRUARY 2, 1968
DELIA MONTOYA KNEW SHE WASN’T HIS FIRST VICTIM, but she was determined to be the last
Delia pulled into the police station parking lot right on tiled to fix her makeup--hard to apply lipstick with three stitches in the corner of her mouth She told herself she wouldn’t cry She would face the ive her statement
Outside, the winter clouds were an unnaturalTo the east, a neas rising for the world’s fair The round top house was being hoisted up the five-hundred-foot colu aardly being lifted off a giant’s finger
Delia stopped at the doors of the police station She took a shaky breath She’d been here too et someone to listen
Ever since her first visit, White’sher They appeared while she was shopping, or baby-sitting her little cousin, or taking flowers to herhome
They never threatened her, never spoke But she kneho they were
We are as close as your jugular vein, they seeet that
Teeks, three days, eleven hours since the attack She’d been shattered like a vase, glued back together i around her wrists, his whiskers scraping against her throat She could still taste the blood--first froainst her et aith it
She’d spent two years fighting for other people’s rights in California She’d marched with César Chávez, blistered her feet on the dusty roads of the Central Valley, helped translate the stories of rant workers for the media
At New Year’s, full of optiht for La Causa In that rush of confidence, she’d visited a South Side bar and felt coo who found her attractive Why the hell not?
AN OFFICER ESCORTED HER INTO A green-tiled rooriarette in his hand At the other end of the table, he was there, looking the sa To his right sat another well-dressed o to explain how much she had to lose
Mr White has a wife and little boy, he’d told her Do you want to embarrass a man with a fa up First, her new job Her boss at La Prensa let her go, et problems, but she’d seen the fear in his eyes Then she’d lost her lease She was given one month to move out, no explanation Most of all, she’d lost her privacy White’s men were everywhere she went
She shouldn’t have agreed to thisThey couldn’t force her to make a statement with her attacker present But even the police see by Guy White’s rules
"Miss Montoya" The detective was a grizzled man with a military haircut The razor stubble on his cheeks was like frost "We’ve made Mr White aware of your accusations We need to kno if you still want to press charges"
His voice sounded weary, like he’d done all this before
White’s eyes were a horrible blue
If he’d shown any anxiety, shein his eyes but calm anticipation, as if he were patiently curious about what form of destruction she would choose
She’d heard rumors about the previous victi line of amusements He had knocked her down the way a boy knocks down sand castles on the beach--just because he could
She reers around her throat, the taste of blood in her mouth
Yesterday Delia had taken her seven-year-old niece to the playground There’d been aat them His eyes were dull with cruelty Delia was certain the luun
She reested All you have to say