Page 13 of Sweet Animosity

I’d forgotten how impossibly dull the novelty blade was.

Anxious that I was losing time, I sawed the knife back and forth over the tape, slowly making progress. As sweat dripped between my shoulder blades, I even leaned in and tried to tear at it with my teeth.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the tape slit and I was free.

Scrambling off the cement floor, I snatched up my purse and ventured deeper into the stack of cardboard.

The man probably assumed this room had no doorway exit.

And he would be right.

But he’d forgotten about the old grain chute.

So many of these old Chicago warehouses had rusted steel metal doors covering chutes that led outside for various reasons. I’d once seen Abakar’s men use the one in this room to dump garbage into a dumpster in the loading dock.

After creeping through the dusty darkness along the crumbling brick wall, I found it.

Prying it open, I shoved my purse through first, then used a nearby box to step up and push my feet through.

With eyes squeezed shut and holding my breath, I let go.

I slid along the slick metal until a burst of frigid air hit my face. Seconds later, I landed in the dumpster. I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to keep from crying out in horror at the stench.

After slinging my purse strap over my shoulder, I crawled and stumbled over the garbage to the metal ladder on the right side.

Just as I gripped the rough, rusted rung, something skittered and scurried over the discarded boxes.

No longer caring about my chipped nail polish, I scampered up the ladder as if it were the hounds of hell inside the dumpster with me.

Keeping in the shadows, I raced along the outer warehouse wall to my car parked on the other side of the street.

My hands shook so badly it took several tries for me to get the key in the outer door.

As I fell into the driver’s seat, I pushed the key in the ignition and sent up a quick prayer.

The engine turned over with a grind of the gears.

Then nothing.

I tried again.

Another wretched grinding noise split the stillness of the night.

Knowing the men inside could either discover me gone or hear my car and come out to investigate at any moment, I resolved to try one more time before I gave up and made a run for it. The Metra train was only a few blocks from here. Useful information when you drove an unreliable car.

Then I heard it.

A gunshot.

Fuck.

Sending up one final desperate prayer, I tried the ignition again…

CHAPTER 7

VAR

When I entered the room, Mac and Anton were crowded around a small security monitor.

---