Extreme Denial (43 page)

The elevator took them down to the ground floor. When they emerged onto the cluttered chaos of the street, overpowered by the din of engines and water being sprayed and people shouting, they struggled to make their way through the crowd. Flashing lights made them squint.

“We’ve got an injured woman here,” Esperanza said. “Let us through.”

They squeezed to the right along the sidewalk, passed a fire truck, and avoided paramedics who rushed toward someone on the opposite side of the truck. Decker felt Beth wince each time he moved with her.

“There’s the Pontiac,” Esperanza said.

It was near the corner, a recent model, blue, apparently the one McKittrick had been driving. When Decker tried the key in the passenger door, it fit.

Thirty seconds later, Beth was lying on the backseat, Decker was kneeling on the floor next to her, and Esperanza was behind the steering wheel. An ambulance blocked the way. “Hold Beth steady,” Esperanza said.

“What are you going to do?”

“Take a detour.” Esperanza started the engine, put the Pontiac in gear, and swung the steering wheel severely to the right. Pressing the accelerator, he jolted up onto the sidewalk.

Beth moaned from the impact. Decker leaned against her, working to keep her from sliding off the seat. Pedestrians scattered as Esperanza aimed the Pontiac along the sidewalk, reached the corner, and jounced down off the curb.

Beth groaned, her pain more severe.

“That’ll do it.” Esperanza glanced in his rearview mirror, sped to the next corner, and turned. “No one’s following us. All you have to do now is relax, folks. Enjoy the ride.”

Decker didn’t need encouragement. He was so exhausted that breathing was an effort. Worse, he couldn’t control his shivering, partly because of the aftermath of adrenaline but mostly, he knew, because of his bone-deep chill from having been in the rain for so long.

“Esperanza?”

“What?”

“Find us a place to stay. Fast.”

“Is something—”

“I’m think I’m starting to get”—Decker’s voice was unsteady—’ ‘ hypothermia. “

“Jesus.”

“I have to get out of these wet clothes.”

“Put your hands under your armpits. Don’t go to sleep. Is there a blanket or anything back there?”

“No.” Decker’s teeth chattered.

“All I can do for now is put on the heater,” Esperanza said. “I’ll find a take-out place and get hot coffee. Hang on, Decker.”

“Hang on? Sure. To myself. I’m hugging myself so hard, I—”

“Hug
me
,” Beth said. “Closer. Try to use my body heat.”

But no matter how tightly he pressed himself against her, her voice seemed to come from far away.

TWELVE

—————

1

Decker dreamed of Renata, of a tall, thin, dark-haired woman with a grotesque voice and a gaping hole in her throat. He thought that the figure looming over him was Renata about to crush his head with a rock, but just before he prepared to strike at her, his mind became lucid enough for him to realize that it wasn’t Renata who leaned over him, but Beth, and that the object wasn’t a rock, but a washcloth.

Someone else was with her—Esperanza—holding him down. “Take it easy. You’re safe. We’re trying to help you.”

Decker blinked repeatedly, groggy, as if hungover, trying to understand what was happening. His body ached. His arms and face stung. His muscles throbbed. He had the worst headache of his life. In the background, pale sunlight struggled past the edges of closed draperies.

“Where ...?”

“A motel outside Jersey City.”

As Decker scanned the gloomy interior, he was reminded disturbingly of the motel where McKittrick had held Beth prisoner.

“How long ...? What time is ...?”

“Almost seven in the evening.” Beth, who sat next to him, her weight on her good leg, put the washcloth on his forehead. It had been soaked in steaming hot water. Decker instantly absorbed the heat.

“This is the kind of place that doesn’t ask questions about people checking in,” Esperanza said. “The units are behind the office. The clerk can’t see who goes into the rooms.” Like the motel where McKittrick had held Beth prisoner, Decker thought again, uneasy.

“We got here about six in the morning,” Beth said. “Counting time in the car, you’ve been sleeping almost thirteen hours. You had me scared that you wouldn’t wake up.” Esperanza pointed toward the bathroom. “I had a lot of trouble getting your clothes off and putting you into the tub. With hypothermia, the water has to be tepid to start with. I increased the temperature slowly. When your color was better, I pulled you out, dried you off, and put you in bed with all three blankets I found on the shelf. Beth managed to get out of her wet clothes, dried off, and got in bed next to you, helping to keep you warm. I poured hot coffee into you. Man, I’ve never seen anybody so exhausted.”

Beth kept wiping Decker’s face. “Or so bruised and cut up. Your face won’t stop bleeding.”

“I’ve had easier nights.” Decker’s mouth felt dry. “I could use ... a drink of water.”

“It’ll have to be
hot
water,” Esperanza said. “Sorry, but I want to make sure you’ve got your body heat back.” He poured steaming water from a thermos into a Styrofoam cup and brought it to Decker’s lips. “Careful.”

It tasted worse than Decker had expected. “Put a tea bag in it. Where’d you get...?” Decker pointed toward the thermos.

“I’ve been busy. While you rested, I did some shopping. I’ve got food and clothes, crutches for Beth, and—”

“You left us alone?” Decker asked in alarm.

“Beth had your handgun. She’s in pain, but she was able to sit in that chair and watch the door. There didn’t seem a reason not to get what we needed.”

Decker tried to sit up. “
Renata
. That’s your reason.”

“She couldn’t possibly have followed us,” Esperanza said. “I was extra careful. Whenever I had the slightest doubt, I went around the block or down an alley. I would have noticed any headlights following us.”

“We
were able to follow McKittrick.” Decker said.

“Because we had a homing device. Does it seem likely to you that McKittrick and Renata would have put a homing device in their own car? She didn’t even have a car to follow us.”

“She could have stolen one.”

“Assuming she knew that we weren’t on the roof any longer, that we’d stolen
her
car. Even then, by the time she hot-wired a vehicle, we’d have been long gone. She couldn’t have known which way we went. Relax, Decker. She’s not a threat.”

“For the moment.”

It wasn’t Decker who made the comment, but Beth.

“She
will
be, though,” Beth added, somber.

“Yes,” Decker said. “If Renata went to all this trouble to get even with me for killing two of her brothers, she won’t stop now. She’ll be all the more determined.”

“Especially since we have the money,” Beth said.

Decker was too confused to speak. He looked at Esperanza.

“After we got to this motel,” Esperanza said, “while you and Beth were resting, I checked the Pontiac’s trunk. Along with enough explosives to blow up the Statue of Liberty, I found
that”
Esperanza pointed toward a bulging flight bag on the floor by the bed. “The million dollars.”

“Holy ...” Decker’s weariness made him dizzy again.

“Stop trying to sit up,” Beth said. “You’re turning pale. Stay down.”

“Renata
will
come looking for us.” As Decker closed his eyes, giving way to exhaustion, he reached to touch Beth, but his consciousness dimmed, and he didn’t feel his hand fall.

2

The next time he wakened, the room was totally dark. He continued to feel groggy. His body still ached. But he had to move—he needed to use the bathroom. Unfamiliar with the motel room, he bumped into a wall, banging his shoulder, before he oriented himself, entered the bathroom, shut the door, and only then turned on the light, not wanting to wake Beth. His image in the mirror was shocking, not just the bruises and scratches but the deep blue circles around his eyes and the gauntness of his beard-stubbled cheeks.

After relieving himself, he hoped that the flushing of the toilet wouldn’t disturb Beth. But when he turned off the light and opened the door, he discovered that the main room’s lights were on. Beth was sitting up in the bed, where she had been sleeping next to him. Esperanza was propped up against a pillow in another bed.

“Sorry,” Decker said.

“You didn’t wake us,” Esperanza said.

“We’ve been waiting for you to get up,” Beth said. “How do you feel?”

“The way I look.” Decker limped toward Beth. “How about
you?
How do
you
feel?”

Beth shifted her position and winced. “My leg is swollen. It throbs. But the wound doesn’t look infected.”

“At least that’s one thing in our favor.” Decker slumped on the bed and wrapped a blanket around himself. He rubbed his temples. “What time is it?”

“Two
A.M.”
Esperanza put on trousers and got out of bed. “Do you feel alert enough to discuss some things?”

“My throat’s awfully dry.” Decker managed to hold up his hands as if defending himself. “But I don’t want any of that damned hot water.”

“I bought some Gatorade. How about that? Get some electrolytes back in your system.”

“Perfect.”

It was orange-flavored, and Decker drank a quarter of the bottle before he stopped himself.

“How about something to eat?” Esperanza asked.

“My stomach’s not working, but I’d better try to get something down.”

Esperanza opened a small portable cooler. “I’ve got packaged sandwiches—tuna, chicken, salami.”

“Chicken.”

“Catch.”

Decker surprised himself by managing to do so. He peeled the plastic wrap off the sandwich and bit into tasteless white bread and cardboardlike chicken. “Delicious.”

“Nothing but the best for you.”

“We have to decide what to do.” Beth’s solemn tone contrasted with Esperanza’s attempt at humor.

Decker looked at her and tenderly grasped her hand. “Yes. The Justice Department won’t be happy that you didn’t show up to testify. They’ll be looking for you.”

“I took care of it,” Beth said.

“Took care of...?” Decker felt troubled. “I don’t understand.”

“Esperanza drove me to a pay phone. I called my contact at the Justice Department and found out I don’t have to testify. The grand jury was meeting to indict Nick Giordano, but since he’s dead, the Justice Department says there’s no point in going further.” Beth hesitated. “You killed
Frank
Giordano, also?”

Decker didn’t say anything.

“For me?”

“Keep reminding yourself that you’re in the presence of a police officer,” Decker said.

Esperanza glanced at his hands. “Maybe this would be a good time for me to take a walk.”

“I didn’t mean to ..

“No offense taken. You two have a lot to talk about. You could use some time alone.” Esperanza put on his boots, grabbed a shirt, nodded, and went outside.

Beth waited until the door was closed. “Esperanza gave me an idea of what you went through last night.” She reached for his hand. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

“All you have to do is love me.”

Beth cocked her head in surprise. “You make it sound as if that’s something I have to talk myself into. I
do
love you.” She had never told him that before. The longed-for words thrilled him, flooding him with warmth. With emotion-pained eyes, he studied her. There was little resemblance between the enticing woman he had known in Santa Fe and the pale, gaunt-cheeked, hollow-eyed, straggly-haired woman before him. This was the woman he had suffered for. Risked his life for. Several times. Been prepared to go
anywhere
and do
anything
to save.

His throat felt cramped. “You’re beautiful.”

Welcome color came into her cheeks.

“I couldn’t have gone on living without you,” Decker said. Beth inhaled sharply, audibly. She looked at him as if she had never truly seen him before, then hugged him, their embrace painful because of their injuries but intense and forceful all the same. “I don’t deserve you.”

Beth had told him that earlier, when Decker had helped her onto the fire escape at the doctor’s apartment. Was “don’t deserve you” another way of expressing affection, or did she literally mean that she felt undeserving—because she had used him and now felt ashamed?

“What’s wrong?” Beth asked.

“Nothing.”

“But—”

“We have a lot of details to take care of,” Decker said quickly. “Did your contact in the Justice Department ask about McKittrick?”

“Did he ever.” Beth looked puzzled by the sudden change of topic, by the way intimacy had given way to practicality. “I told him I thought McKittrick was the man who let the Giordanos know I was hiding in Santa Fe. I said that I’d been suspicious about McKittrick from the start and when we got to New York I slipped away from him. I told them I had no idea where he was.”

“Keep telling them that,” Decker said. “When McKittrick’s body is found in the wreckage from the fire, the authorities will have trouble identifying it. Because they don’t know whose dental records to use for comparison, they might not
ever
be able to identify him. His disappearance will be a mystery. It’ll look as if he ran away to avoid going to prison. The main thing is, don’t show any hesitation. Never vary from your story that you don’t know anything about what happened to him.”

“I’ll need to account for where I’ve been since Saturday afternoon when I left Santa Fe,” Beth said.

“I’ll make a phone call. A former associate of mine lives in Manhattan and owes me a favor. If the Justice Department wants an alibi, he’ll give you one. They’ll want to know your relationship with him. Tell them I mentioned him to you in Santa Fe, that he was an old friend and I wanted you to look him up when you got to New York. It was natural for you to run to him after you got away from McKittrick.”