The Throwbacks (40 page)

With her head down, she squeezed through the barely opened passenger door to the far side of the car and scooted between the buildings. She moved as quietly as possible along the wall of the building where they figured Theresa was being held. She needed to find a way in to stay out of the way of the feds.

Everything was shaking. She pressed herself flat against the cold brick wall as she heard the feds approach the building. She couldn’t see them so she reasoned they couldn’t see her—yet. But if cop shows were any clue, she knew they’d be surrounding the place in a minute. She had to get inside. She moved her leg. Her knees wobbled and her heel turned. She wasn’t dressed for this, she thought again. David was inside. At least when he saw her she’d look good.

The feds’ voices were getting closer. She leaned forward and glanced down the side of the building away from the street, to see a window well and a blank wooden door farther down. She slithered along the wall as fast as her short tight skirt and heels would allow. When she got to the window she crouched down and peered in.

A woman with her back to the window was tied to a chair, gagged and blindfolded. She couldn’t believe her luck. She’d found Theresa, and she was okay. It was so much like a TV cliché that Grace almost laughed at the discovery, but now she had to get in. The window was too small. She stood and eyed the door. The men, farther away now, were shouting and she knew it was now or never.

Grace sucked in her breath as if she were taking a dive into the deep end of a pool and reached for the door. The lock was missing. The door opened with a creak, and she slipped inside the darkness.

Still holding her breath, she commanded herself to let it out and breathe deeply. Thank god she was young and healthy or she was sure the pounding in her chest would mean a heart attack. She thought of David and how he’d be calm and in control. He knew what he was doing.

But what the heck was
she
doing? She needed to get to Theresa. She could at least untie her. She hadn’t seen any guards in the room—at least not with the quick peek she took. When she got to Theresa she could call David on his cell phone and let him know where they were. He could come and get them both.

She heard a banging noise somewhere down the hallway ahead of her. Her eyes had adjusted to the semi-darkness so she could see there was no one in her direct line of sight, but she couldn’t stand here and wait for that to change.

She forced herself to move and stepped gingerly. If she found a hall or door to the right that would be the direction where Theresa was. Her heel turned again and she stumbled. She put her back to the wall, slithering along until she found a doorway. She turned the knob to the old wooden door. Locked, of course. But then she looked more closely at the knob and realized it was the very old-fashioned kind—the kind that was easy to pick open.

She reached into the V-neck of her dress and undid the pin fastened there to keep it closed. She straightened the pin as much as she could and stuck it in the lock while she strained to hear anyone coming. There was nothing but faint voices that sounded as if they were beyond a wall or two, and they didn’t seem to be coming any closer. Drops of sweat trickled between her breasts where her dress gaped open. She dropped the pin.

“Darn it!”

She heard a muffled squeal from inside the room. It was Theresa, and she sounded terrified.

“Don’t worry, Theresa—it’s only me—Grace,” she whispered as loudly as she could into the door lock while she felt around on the floor for the pin. She heard the disbelief in Theresa’s muffled voice even through the gag in her mouth.

“Ouch—darn it—I found the…key…Theresa…I’ll be in there in a second,” she said in a low voice this time. Theresa’s groan of disgust was unmistakable. Grace was about to say something reassuring when she heard scuffling noises and shouts. She shoved the pin in the lock, turned the knob and went crashing through the door. Before she stumbled too far into the room, she shut the door behind her and ran on clattering heels to throw herself onto her knees in front of Theresa and hug the woman.

“You’re all right!”

Theresa mumbled less enthusiastically than Grace had imagined she might but decided the first thing she should do is remove the gag anyway.

“Oh my god! Grace! What in holy hell are you doing here?” Theresa said in a whispered shout. She shook out her head and wiggled around, making it difficult for Grace to untie her.

“It’s a long story—are you okay? You look awful.” She sat back on her heels for a moment to look at her friend’s tear-streaked face and ragged hair.

“Who cares? Get me out of here. You can get me out of here, can’t you? Where’s David? Did he already get those hoodlums?” Theresa strained to look past her, speaking louder and louder.

“Ssshhh,” Grace said and finally had her friend’s ankles untied.

“Oh my god—thank you. I can’t wait to get out of here! And why are you telling me to shush?”

“Well, ah,” Grace said as she went behind Theresa to work on untying her wrists.

“Grace?” Her friend’s voice threatened tears.

“Don’t worry, honey. David and the chief are here and some assorted federal agents and they’ll be in here any second to tell us they’ve captured the bad guys…”

The door banged open. The first thing Grace saw over Theresa’s shoulder was a gun aimed straight at them. Theresa shrieked. Whatever the Latino man holding the gun said was lost.

Grace fell back on her butt. Two more men rushed into the room behind the man with the gun. One of them went right for Theresa and slapped her face, telling her to shut up.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” The Latino man asked Grace. He cocked the gun at her. That clicking sound was the loudest, most intimidating thing she’d ever heard. Grace didn’t know what the heck she was going to say—and how the heck she was going to speak past the boulder in her throat—when Theresa screamed again from her chair. One of the men, whom Grace recognized as Arturo, lunged toward Theresa. Grace leapt in front of her friend without a thought.

Arturo grabbed Grace by the hair and yanked backwards, pulling her against his chest at an excruciatingly uncomfortable angle. When she was about to use the only weapon she had at her disposal and stomp on his foot with her spike heel, the Latino man aimed the gun at her again.

In the next instant, before her heart could seize up like she knew it was about to do, the man was clubbed from behind with the biggest gun she’d ever seen in her admittedly limited experience. He collapsed forward and landed in a heap at her feet. She stared down at him only for a moment and then looked up—realizing that her hair was free from Arturo’s death grip—and saw her savior.

There stood David Young, with his gun in hand aimed at one of the goons and Dan right behind him with his gun aimed at the other goon. And they all listened to Theresa’s hysterical non-stop screaming.

“Oh my god!” Theresa shrieked one last time.

“Batman!”

After everyone looked at her like she was nuts, Grace realized that she had actually said it out loud. She stood there with her arms outstretched and her most adoring smile plastered on her face. Then without another thought she launched herself at David and landed against his satisfyingly solid chest, belatedly realizing that he was trying to hold his gun to keep the criminals at bay and she may have interfered just a touch with that.

When he wrapped his free arm around her in a strong and unflinching grip, the notion that she might have made a mistake disappeared and calm settled in, replacing the tension of her overspent nerves.

There was more commotion in the doorway. Several guys in dark suits came in with more guns and flashing badges, alternately shouting FBI and I.C.E. They quickly started throwing the unfortunate criminals against the wall and cuffing them. Only then did David lower his gun and pull her aside. He hadn’t said a word or registered anything but calm confidence on his face up until then. But the sound of his voice whispering in her ear was tense with concern.

“What in bloody hell are you doing here?”

“I’ve never been so glad to see you! And that’s saying something because I’m always extremely happy to see you, David.” She threw her arms around him again. She felt his rigid muscles relax a fraction.

“Where’s Rick?” Theresa said with the shrill voice of hysteria. She looked around the room, still sitting in her chair surrounded by tangled ropes.

Dan went to help her untangle the ropes and hauled her to her feet. Grace met her friend’s eye. Theresa’s hysteria turned to uncontrolled sobs. With a difficult effort but much confidence and calm, Grace left David’s strong embrace, caressed his cheek with a grateful smile and went to her friend. Theresa needed comforting right now, and she was the person to give it to her. Theresa leaned on her and sobbed into the shoulder of her dress, mumbling what Grace thought were words of appreciation.

But then Grace listened more carefully as she cooed her comforting words and realized what Theresa was saying. She turned pink with alarm.

“Your dress’s bodice is so wide open it’s no wonder David has to protect you,” Theresa whispered between sobs. “Don’t worry, no one can see anything with me hugging you. We’ll just excuse ourselves to the nearest ladies’ room and I’ll stick to you like glue until we get there and get you all fixed up.”

Feeling the heat spread to her face, Grace popped her head up to look at David. He looked implacable—almost. She thought she saw a telltale twinkle, but she remained alarmed when she saw the guy with the camera.

“We’re going to the ladies’ room—emergency. Right now.” Grace moved toward the door with Theresa clinging to her.

The men stepped aside and one of them pointed down the now well-lit hall, presumably toward the ladies’ room.

“Don’t be gone long. We’re going to need to get statements after you—aaah, straighten up,” one of the FBI guys said.

“We’ll take care of those statements,” David said.

“Who the hell are you?”

“This is the Chief of the Scotland Yard Exchange Program with the BPD and I’m the Chief of the BPD,” Dan said. “We’ll take care of the statements.”

“Last time I looked, kidnapping was a federal crime.”

“True, but the mayor would appreciate it if we took care of it, and since his daughter is the victim here, we should defer to him,” David said with a smooth smile. “Maybe we could work together.”

Grace stood in the hall watching before Theresa tugged at her to move along.

The FBI guy studied David and gave him a nod. Then he glanced toward Grace in the hall and gave him one of those smug knowing smiles—the exact kind that David hated, the kind where the guy really did know.

They were forced to wait for the women in the small room with the criminals in handcuffs. Dan talked to someone on his two-way. David studied the assortment of federal agents and noted that they were all younger than him. The youngest stood near the door, waiting to intercept the ladies, and had to be twenty years David’s junior—about the right age for Grace. He found himself looking for a wedding band on the youngster’s hand and felt appalled at himself.

Grace appeared in the hall outside the door with her vitality—and her clothing—restored. She peered in at him, searching out his face, and gave him a smile. Junior FBI man intercepted her when she went to walk in the room.

“We’ll all be going outside, miss. Grace, is it?” Junior said with a flattering smile.

“Oh, of course.” She smiled back with a distracted look and nodded at David.

They all trooped down the hall, through the cavernous storage area and out the door on the opposite side of the building where he and Dan had entered. The three prisoners were being escorted by the police and Dan had Theresa. David walked alone. He watched the young FBI agent hold Grace’s elbow while they walked. To her credit, she kept peeking back at him with that charmingly adoring smile she had. The man spoke to her, but David couldn’t hear what was said. It looked like flirting to him. He’d better not be a married man, David thought.