Not One Clue_ A Mystery - Lois Greiman [19]
“Dion? You kidding? He’d only get in trouble with a set of wheels. But Vin, he got himself a job at Target. The graveyard shift. Ain’t no buses running at three in the morning.”
“So how far do you have to walk?”
“Not far.” Turning, she straightened the Ansel Adams that adorned the wall above the tiny table that held two water glasses.
“How far’s that?”
She looked at me, attitude personified. “Why you wanna know? Do I look like I’m getting too skinny to you?”
I gave her attitude back. “I was going to ask about anorexia. How far?”
“I ain’t counted the blocks.”
I snorted. “I’m giving you a ride.”
“No you ain’t,” she said, and suddenly her eyes looked all shiny and funny. “You’re gonna get your scrawny butt to bed so you can help the next Micky that comes along.”
I stared at her. “Are you crying?”
“You kiddin’ me?” she asked, and swiped away the moisture from her cheek with the back of her hand. “I don’t even have tear ducts no more.”
“Then I think it’s raining on your face.”
She sniffled a laugh and while she was distracted I shuffled her out the door. To this day, I’m still surprised I won that argument.
By 8:30 I had dropped her off outside her apartment building. It was a three-story complex in a decent part of Eagle Rock. I made sure she was inside before I headed for the market. My usual store was Von’s but Laney liked me better when I shopped organically at Trader Joe’s. I considered just getting a Trader Joe’s bag to make it look as if I’m conscientious, but then Laney would be disappointed that I didn’t use the cloth bags she had given me.
In the end, I parked in Joe’s lot, shut off the Saturn, and stepped outside.
It happened so fast, I barely had time to think. One minute I was walking toward the store and the next I was grabbed from behind. I tried to scream but a hand cut off my breath. I shifted my eyes, throat already closing up, trying to see my assailant. Something was poking me in the side.
“You here alone?”
It took me a moment to understand what he was saying over the hammering of my heart. I nodded before I thought better of it.
“You carrying Mace?”
I managed to shake my head, though my spray was within reach, dangling from my key chain. If I could just reach it, I’d have a chance, I thought, but suddenly the hand slipped away.
“Well, why the hell not?”
I spun around at the sound of Rivera’s voice. He stood not three feet away, glaring at me.
I slammed my palms against his chest with all the rage my pent-up fear allowed. He staggered backward, almost fell, then caught himself just in time for me to sputter into his face, “Are you out of your mind?”
“Me? Christ, woman, you’re cruising around town like you don’t have a brain in your—”
“You’ve been following me?” I was either starting to shriek or a car alarm had gone off in my head.
“I told you …” He held up his index finger. “Look around before you leave your office building.” His middle finger rose. “Get in your car quick.” By the time his ring finger popped up I was just about ready to lop it off with nail clippers. “Check your rearview mirror, your side-view—”
“You’ve been following me ever since the office.” I’d gone from shriek to growl.
“I bet you didn’t even check your trunk.”
“My trunk?” From growl to rumble.
“Damnit, McMullen! We’ve gone over this. You know how easy it is to jimmy a car lock? Some bastard could get in there before you leave your office. Your backseats fold down. He could climb over your seat and put a gun to your head. Next time I see you taking idiotic chances I’m going to hide in your trunk and—”
“I swear to God, Rivera,” I said, stepping toward him. “If you hide in my trunk they won’t find your dead body till Christmas.”
“Listen,” he said, and grabbed my arms, but someone had just exited Joe’s.
“Hey!” He was already approaching. I turned my head. He weighed about a thousand pounds, was big, bald, and scary as hell. “What’s going on here?”
“LAPD,” Rivera said, and dropping my arms, pulled a badge from some unknown orifice.