The smell is awful, a cross between a zoo and a truck stop toilet. Definitely Harry. Alex swings inside and drops onto the sofa. A scream, to her left, and she spins around, Cheetah poised and ready to strike.
It’s a monkey, in a cage. And the scream isn’t directed at her. It’s directed at what appears to be a damp sweater, which he’s earnestly humping.
Yes, this has to be Harry’s RV.
She creeps forward, to the cab. The door is closed. She can imagine McGlade sitting there, staring at her car, wondering what to do next. But she isn’t sure he’s alone in there. Jack might be with him. Better to know for sure before attacking.
Alex looks around, finds a Ping-Pong paddle covered in mud. She picks it up.
Yuck. That isn’t mud.
She wipes her hand on the carpet, but that’s damp with something even worse. Now seriously grossed out, she frantically searches for a towel. The only thing nearby is that sweater in the monkey cage, and Alex decides she’d rather light herself on fire than touch that splotchy thing. She crinkles her nose, decides to just deal with it for the time being, and then throws the Ping-Pong paddle at the cab door.
“Dammit, Slappy, how did you get out of your cage?”
The door opens. McGlade appears. Alex jams the stun gun into his belly, dropping him to his knees, then whacks him alongside the head with her elbow, getting all of her weight and muscle behind it.
He crumples to the floor, landing on something squishy. Serves the asshole right.
Alex checks the cab for other passengers. It’s empty. The monkey screeches again. He’s still raping the cardigan, but his eyes are now locked on her, the filthy little pervert. Alex considers giving him a little zap with the Cheetah, but she has more pressing things to do, like restrain Harry.
But first things first. Alex hurries to the bathroom to wash her hands.
She really hopes McGlade has soap.
CHAPTER 53
I STEPPED ONTO VAN BUREN, walking out of the Metropolitan Correctional Center having just been given back my personal belongings. The night in lockup had flown by-I’d actually slept pretty well-and the morning was taken up by the bond hearing at the Northern District court house. My professional record, ties to the community, and the fact that obstruction of justice isn’t really that big a charge meant I walked with only a ten-thousand-dollar bond.
The day was cool, almost cold. I walked around the block, checking for tails of the Feebie variety-I got the impression Special Agent Dailey thought I knew more about Phin’s and Alex’s whereabouts than I actually did.
No Feds were following me. But I did notice a Ford Bronco without a front windshield. I walked up to him. Time to bury this par tic u lar hatchet.
“Need a ride?” Phin asked.
“You know that large oppressive building behind me is a federal prison, right?”
“Yeah. Harry told me you were doing time. Is it like those old Roger Corman movies?”
“Exactly the same. I took a shower in slow motion, then fought off the advances of a big-breasted lesbian warden.”
“Sounds hot.”
“Can you take me home?”
He nodded, and I climbed in. Phin and I had some unresolved issues, and now that Alex was off my mind I actually had a clear head. We were wrong for each other, for a million different reasons. I was mentally preparing the “let’s still be friends” speech when he launched into a speech of his own.
“I never said thanks that you covered for me. You could have turned me in. I’m a thief, and an addict, and I don’t deserve your friendship. Especially since I want more than just friendship. So it’s probably best we don’t see each other anymore.”
I wasn’t sure how to reply to that. While I didn’t want Phin as a boyfriend, I didn’t want him out of my life.
He pulled into traffic, and I found it hard to talk with the wind blowing straight into my face. I had to wait until we reached a stoplight, ready to argue with him, to make a case for friendship. But my mouth said something else.
“You’ve always been there for me, Phin. I call, you come. Thank you. It means a lot. And if you think we should go our separate ways, that hurts, but I’ll respect that.”
Phin nodded. I felt my chest get tight, my eyes well up. But this was for the best. I didn’t love this man. I couldn’t ever love this man.
Then why did this feel like the totally wrong thing to do?
My phone rang. I dug it out of my purse, answered.
No response. I looked at the screen, saw I had a text message.
THIS IS HARRY. HE’S YOUR BROTHER.
Oh shit.
“Phin, when was the last time you talked to Harry?”
“This morning. Why?”
“Alex has him.”
A picture came next, McGlade duct-taped to a chair, his face bleeding, his eyes desperate. Then the phone rang again. I answered.
“Hello, Jack. Harry just told me some nonsense about you quitting. Did I give you permission to quit?”
The wind howled in my face. I put my finger in my ear to drown out the noise.
“Where is he, Alex?”
“He’s with me. We’re reliving old times. Right, Harry?”
A crackling sound, followed by a howl. Every muscle in my body tensed up.
“What do you want, Alex?”
“A showdown, Jack. Just you and me. No cops. No Feds. No special forces yahoos swooping in on helicopters. I’ve got enough explosives to level a city block, and if I even suspect that you’re not alone, I press a little button and you get to bury what’s left of your brother in a matchbox.”
“Don’t come, Jackie!” Harry yelled in the background. “I got this bitch right where I want her!”
Another crackle, and another howl. I guessed Alex was using a stun gun on him.
“I’m just west of O’Hare,” Alex said. “Be here in twenty minutes. For every minute you’re late, Harry loses a finger.”
“I got a finger for you right here!” Harry yelled. The yell became a scream when she juiced him again.
“Twenty minutes, Jack.”
“I don’t have a car. You remember what happened to my car.”
“Where’s your buddy Phin?”
“He’s out of the picture.”
“That’s your problem. Twenty minutes.”
I turned to Phin. “Remember what I just said about going our separate ways?”
“Where is he?”
“O’Hare. We have twenty minutes.”
Phin jammed on the gas. I buckled up. Calling for reinforcements seemed like the right thing to do. If I did, Harry was dead, but he was probably dead anyway. So were Phin and me. The only way to win this was to call in the troops and nuke her.
I dialed 9 and 1 and then stopped.
“Do you still have the rifles?” I yelled at Phin over the wind.
“In back!”
“The radio?”
“Yeah!”
He hit the horn, blowing through a red light, causing a car to swerve and smash into a bus. Alex didn’t know Phin was with me. Maybe Harry had a chance to make it through this after all. A slight chance, but better than none at all. Much as I didn’t like the guy, and much as I hated the thought that there was a remotely small possibility we were related, I had to try to save him. He’d do the same for me.
It’s what any brother and sister would do.
Phin found the expressway, riding the shoulder and passing cars while squinting against the wind. I figured our best shot was setting up Phin someplace elevated, far enough away that she wouldn’t see him. We’d never finished zeroing out his scope, but hopefully he’d learned enough in our brief tutorial that he’d be able to compensate.
If not, Harry and I were dead.
And, surprisingly, I realized I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live a long, happy, fruitful life, as something other than a cop. I wasn’t sure what yet. While lying in my holding cell, I actually toyed with the idea of opening up a bar, maybe with some pool tables. With a name like Jack Daniels, how could it lose?