Rob jerked back so quickly he lost his balance and landed on his rump. Had the guy seen him? There was no time to ponder the question. Rob knew the guy would be on top of him soon and there would be no chance to do anything. Bending over as much as he could, Rob ran into the back yard, trying to keep the bush between himself and the blond guy. A four-foot wooden fence enclosed the narrow strip of real estate that passed for a yard.
He risked a glance behind him. The blond guy caught sight of him and broke into a run in his direction. Rob straightened up and bolted for the fence. He veered slightly to his left to avoid a clump of birch trees, then grabbed the top of the fence with both hands and scrambled over it into the back yard of another house.
Sprinting out the driveway at the front of this property, Rob was forced to make a split-second decision as to which way to go. He turned instinctively uphill toward West Broadway Street, which was only a couple of blocks away.
He put his head down and ran hard. His back crawled in anticipation of being shot. Rob jerked his head around and saw the darkened figure of the blond guy, who had just emerged from the driveway, running hard.
Rob concentrated on lengthening his stride. His lean, muscular legs ate up the ground in a hurry. Even the sore knee was holding up well, at least for the time being.
He shot into the intersection at the end of the block and nearly ran into a car coming from his right. The car nosed down hard when the driver hit the brakes. Rob swerved and cut in front of the car. An angry blast of the horn followed him onto the next block. Rob cursed at the loss of speed the car had caused him but got it back quickly as he tore toward West Broadway. Just before getting to the corner he threw another look over his shoulder and thought he might have even gained a little ground.
The flow of traffic on West Broadway forced Rob to turn right and run along the side of the street. He kept looking back for a break in the traffic. Then, just when his pursuer reappeared, Rob saw a taxi headed his way. He ran out into the street waving his arms madly. The cab pulled to a stop beside him. Rob yanked open the back door and clambered in.
“Where to, mac?” the cabbie said.
“I don’t care,” Rob said as he slammed the door. “Just drive.”
“It works better if you tell me where we’re going.”
“Anywhere. Downtown. Just go, okay?”
Rob looked out the rear window and saw the blond guy closing in on the cab fast, pulling the gun from under his jacket.
“Holy Murphy,” the cabbie said and punched the accelerator.
The blond guy receded into the distance as the cab sped away. Rob slumped into the seat with relief.
“What was that about?” The driver asked. “You know that guy with the gun back there?”
“He’s the one who gave me all these bruises.”
The cabbie flicked on the dome light and adjusted his rearview mirror to get a better look at Rob.
“Man, he laid some beating on you.”
Rob winced as his knee started complaining bitterly. “You got that right.”
“You need me to take you to a cop station or something?”
Rob considered once again whether this was a good idea, then rejected it for the same reasons as before.
“No, I’ll be all right.”
“So where you wanna go then?”
“I don’t know. For now you can head for the Back Bay.”
The driver turned off the interior light.
All Rob wanted was a quiet place to lay low and rest up — somewhere no one would think to look for him. His apartment was definitely out, and now that he thought about it, Dysart’s place wasn’t much better. Rob discarded the idea of going to a motel; he had seen too many movies where people were tracked down because they used their credit card.
He wondered what Stan would do when he got to the convenience store and Rob wasn’t there. Nothing he could do about that now except call Stan later and explain. Which reminded him, he wanted to return Kirsten’s call too.
That was it. No one would think to look for him at her place. He hadn’t been there in a long time. Lesley would freak, but then it wasn’t any of her business anymore.
“I know where I want to go,” Rob said.
Tim felt like he was floating away. He had waited so long for this moment. Lesley’s lips were every bit as delicious as he remembered, maybe more so given the ferocity with which she returned his kiss. He could taste the tears from her cheeks and feel the soft warmth of her chest on his.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the kiss was over. Lesley pulled back and her eyes opened wide, as if she was awakening from sleep. She crossed one arm over her chest and wiped at her cheek and mouth with the other hand.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Tim tried a reassuring smile.
“Don’t be.”
Lesley’s hand fluttered down from her face to join the other arm.
“I’ve got to … excuse me.”
She picked her way past the mess of glass and water on the floor and disappeared in the direction of her bedroom.
Tim felt like jumping in the air and letting out a huge war whoop, but Lesley obviously wasn’t in the mood for war whoops. He settled for a huge grin and a small fist pump.
Tim looked down at the mess. His socks were soaked. He stepped carefully to one of the few dry spots on the floor, took off his sodden socks and used a hand towel hanging on the front of the stove to dry his feet. The broom and dustpan turned out to be in the front hall closet. He used the dustpan to gather the glass fragments into a pile then scooped them into the garbage can he found under the sink.
“Do you have some rags or something to wipe up the water?” he called out loudly.
She appeared with her face dried and looking more composed. She pointed at a column of drawers next to the refrigerator.
“Third one down,” she said.
Tim pulled out a towel and began sopping up the water. Lesley picked up Tim’s socks.
“I’ll throw these in the dryer for you,” she said.
“You don’t have to do that,” Tim said, but she was already gone. By the time she reappeared the floor was dry.
“Thanks for cleaning up,” Lesley said.
Tim finished wringing the towel for the last time and set it beside the sink. He turned and leaned on the counter.
“No problem.”
“I feel really stupid,” Lesley said. “I can’t even make coffee without messing it up.”
Tim wanted to walk over and hold her again, but he knew that would push his luck way beyond what he could hope for. Instead he picked up the box of chocolates from the counter.
“Maybe these will help,” he said.
He walked to the kitchen table and sat down. Lesley followed suit and watched dejectedly while he opened the box. He set it between them and picked out an almond swirl for himself.
“Look,” she said, “about the kiss. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“It’s okay,” he said.
“I’m just not dealing with things very well right now.”
He reached over and patted her hand.
“Don’t worry about it.”
He popped the chocolate in his mouth.
She did the same and they both luxuriated in the chocolate taste for a few moments.
Lesley’s phone rang. She made no move to answer it. After the second ring, Tim said, “Aren’t you going to get that?”
She shook her head. “It’s probably another reporter looking for an interview. They’ve been phoning all day.”
Tim grinned at her. “You have to admit, there’s some poetic justice in that.”
“Don’t remind me. Now I feel bad for everyone I’ve ever pestered. It’s no fun being on this end. Before you showed up I was packing some things so I could go over to Stan and Sheila’s and escape.”