Chapter 3-2
740 Words
“Any record?”
Frank didn’t “huh” this lady as he tucked his shirt back in as smoothly as he could. Didn’t pretend to not understand. He looked at her over the top of her car, kinda surprised at how far down he had to look. She’d seemed so damn big with the fancy car, the shiny damn g*n, and the total lack of fear. She couldn’t stand more than five-seven or eight, but there was no question which of them was holding the power at the moment.
And he didn’t like that it was her. Not one lousy little bit.
He shook his head. No record, no time, no juvie.
“Not even detention, much.”
He’d been top twenty at the high school, which only said he wasn’t as out-and-out lazy as everyone else there. College hadn’t been all that high on anyone’s to-do list in his class. He’d had some idea that the chop shops might eventually pay him enough to hit Columbia or City University, but he’d never figured that as real likely.
The “no detention” line got a laugh he hadn’t expected, and he had to reassess her again. Bright white teeth, and hair as dark and shining as those eyes. The smile also made her look younger than the thirty he’d originally tagged her with. Low twenties. He moseyed around the rear of the car and tried to make no big deal out of checking her up and down.
Red Converse sneakers and faded jeans that showed hard use and good quality. Certainly not Goodwill or Woolworths. High-necked yellow blouse. Black leather vest, dressy kind that wasn’t for warmth, but instead for looks… and hiding damn big guns. The combo promised a slender waist and a serious enough chest that the g*n in the shoulder holster didn’t show much under the soft leather. If he didn’t know it was there, he might not have thought anything out of place. And a whole lot of things were in the right place on this woman.
“Do I pass?”
He went for a safe shrug. Okay, so he hadn’t pulled off much in the way of smooth, but she was a woman who deserved a long look.
“Turn around.” She didn’t make it a request.
He narrowed his eyes at her and she twirled a finger. Well, he knew that his looks didn’t leave him nothing to worry about in that department. He and his boys worked out together every day ’cause there sure wasn’t s**t else to do in the projects, and he’d received more than his fair share of fine benefits from the ladies to keep him working the iron.
“Describe what I’m wearing.”
Some kinda test. So, he stared at the row of cars parked across the way, lined up neat as bowling pins. They were all driven by skilled drivers like her, each car slid into its spot sweet and straight. This wasn’t no office-bozo kinda parking. The garage was all pretty quiet on this side of that security gate up there. Not much in the way of traffic. ’Course it was one in the morning on July Fourth. The place smelled of garage, oil, fuel, and rubber. Where the hell was he?
So, he described her. Got into it. She’d left a damn clear impression. She didn’t stop him after her clothing, so he got into her high cheekbones and full lips, her black hair, long, straight but threatening to curl madly, and the thin gold chain around her neck with no ornament dangling on it. And she didn’t need anything more to look seriously fine. No rings or bracelets and...
He spotted a reflected motion on the flat rear glass of a Ford Bronco parked across the way.
Her reflection pulling out that damn big g*n.
He dove for the ground and rolled between a couple of cars.
Sweat poured off him even as he regained his feet in a low squat and began thinking on the best direction to run. Blown away in a parking gara—
That laugh again. It stopped him cold.
She wandered around the car until she was facing him, hands empty. Out where he could see them plainly. Did nothin’ to calm his nerves.
“You recall what you see accurately, are exceptionally aware of your surroundings, and have good reaction time.”
“Which means what?” He managed to make it come out more as an angry shout he meant than the choked squeak he was feeling. He stood slowly, his heart still pounding against his ears.
“Which means I was right. Let’s go.”
She walked off toward the steel-faced garage elevator set in an unadorned concrete wall. He glared at the low pipes wandering along the garage ceiling, but finding no kinda clue up there, he followed her.
- Writer
