You've Been Warned - James Patterson [47]
Another shudder goes through me. “How do you know my name?”
“Trust me; I know a lot more about you than just your name. I know when you moved down here from Boston and why. I know where you live and where you work.”
The conversation flows like the jazz on the radio. Fast and choppy. Also random. Where’s the Ponytail going with this?
Right for my jugular, it turns out.
“Do you love those two kids?” he asks. “Those cute little kids?”
Sean and Dakota?
“What does this have to do with them?”
“Everything, I expect. Those kids are very important in all this.”
“Don’t you dare hurt them,” I snap at him, and raise a fist.
“No,” he says. “Don’t you dare hurt them.”
“Ha! You’re wrong, then,” I say. “You don’t know anything about me.”
The volume dips abruptly on the radio. “Everything okay back there?” asks the cabbie.
It’s clearly not a courtesy question. There’s a note of suspicion and alarm in his voice. He can probably tell something’s wrong.
I don’t want to get this driver killed, but I know about the “panic button” — most every New Yorker does. It triggers a light on the back of the taxi that signals to police that something’s wrong, like a robbery or carjacking in progress.
Or whatever this is.
How do I tip off the driver to push the panic button without getting caught?
The Ponytail clears his throat. He’s not about to let me figure that out.
“Everything’s fine,” he announces.
The cabbie seeks out my eyes in his mirror. “Are you sure, lady?” he asks. “Everything’s fine?”
The Ponytail whispers fast and forcefully in my ear. The way he’s squeezing my arm really hurts. “Tell him to mind his own business.”
I take a deep breath and sigh. “We’re okay,” I say. “No need to panic.”
I don’t know if the cabbie gets the hint, but the Ponytail sure does.
Dumb move, Kris!
“I told you not to get cute,” he says, reaching inside his coat. “How many times do you have to be warned?”
Chapter 64
THE PONYTAIL’S GOING to kill me. Right now, right here. That’s what this is. Everything’s been leading up to my death, my murder.
The thought seems to reach every nerve ending in my body at once. All of a sudden I’m shaking all over.
But it’s not a gun that comes out of his jacket. It’s his wallet.
“Stop the cab!” barks the Ponytail.
He pulls out twenty bucks and pushes the money through the slot in the divider as the taxi swerves over to the curb. It happens so fast.
“Consider this your last warning, Kristin,” he says. “Go home and pack your things. Move out of town. Disappear from the Turnbull family before it’s too late.”
“Too late for what?” I ask.
“I think you already know. There are four people involved, Kristin. Don’t hurt them!”
He steps out of the taxi, slamming the door hard behind him. He stares at me through the side window. Murmurs a few words. I’m pretty sure the last one is warned.
“Friend of yours?” says the cabbie sarcastically.
“JUST GO!” I yell. “PLEASE, GO! GO!”
He hits the gas and we take off, those bald tires screeching again.
I spin around and gaze out the rear window as the Ponytail stands there watching me. He starts to blend into the night until all I can see is the white of his teeth. He’s smiling a sick grin.
There are four people. . . . Don’t hurt them.
10
Chapter 65
CONSIDER THIS your last warning, Kristin.
But who’s warning me?
And why?
Somebody from the police? Is Detective Delmonico involved?
“So are we actually going somewhere?” asks the cabbie, interrupting my manic train of thought.
“Manhattan,” I answer. “Please.”
I barely manage to give him my address before sinking down in the seat, ready to pass out. I’ve been awake for a day and a half. I’d almost find it funny if I had the energy to laugh anymore.
“Hey, you sure you’re okay back there, lady?”
“Yeah,” I lie. “Just another day at the beach.”
Any mild relief I’m feeling is squashed by my lingering fear. It’s as if he’s still sitting next to me, warning me about the Turnbull family.
I’m shivering and feeling dizzy. What