Page 9 of Etched in Stone
“Like stalky? I got some boys with baseball bats. They are really good at discouraging assholes.
Worked like a charm when my cousin Glenda-”
“No, like in running gear and little ear mics. Like government agency spies.”
And there was that look that said she might be a little bat shit crazy, but he stuck with her a bit longer.
“You watch the drawer, and I go take a look,” he told her.
“The guy in the blue hoodie with the headphones, and the blond woman near the parking meter. At least that’s where she was the last three times I went around the block.”
Luis ducked out from around the counter and headed out. He flipped his own hoodie up and disappeared from the doorway. Five minutes later, all hell broke out on the street. A dog barked, a woman screamed and about five cars began honking at once. Luis came racing back into the store and in record time, his hoodie was off and stashed and he was standing behind the register as if nothing had happened.
A cop sauntered in, looked around. Luis rang up a gallon of milk as if he’d heard nothing.
“Coffee’s in the back,” he called and the cop flashed a thumbs up.
“You ain’t kidding,” Luis said calmly as he bagged up the milk. “The price of things today… You want to borrow a lottery ticket? How about a scratcher? I got some nice fun scratchers here.”
Jesse slapped a ten on the counter. She’d been trying not to spend money, as she was going to be short for the rent again, but Luis’s efforts had to be paid for with something. That at least was worth ten dollars and a jug of milk.
The cop exited, toting two coffee cups, and Luis waved at him calmly. Jesse idly scratched off the two scratchers Luis had put in front of her.
“So, I’m pretty sure that there are three of them out there. Or maybe four. I caused a bit of a ruckus and they all acted smooth as glass. Whatcha get into?” he asked her.
“I have no idea.”
“Well, they know where you live. And I don’t think they’re going away, but they might still be a bit distracted.” He handed her another hoodie from under the counter. “Put it on and go in the front real slick like. You got locks on your doors?”
“Two deadbolts.”
“Good. Good luck. Hey, you won twenty bucks!”
“Keep it.”
“Only if you take the milk. Seriously.” Jesse grabbed the bag and slick as she could, popped the hoodie on and up over her hair. Professionals probably wouldn’t be fooled but at least she had a chance.
Jesse didn’t look up, but from under the edge of her hoodie, she could see there were a growing number of city workers putting cones around a large splatter of blue paint while the cops with their coffee looked on with a rather nonchalant coolness to the whole situation.
She made it into the building and elevator before she dropped her hood. Once out of the elevator, she took three large breaths. The door to her apartment was cracked open. She had half a mind to go
get Ray, but then she realized, it was possible it was Ray in her apartment, working on the bathroom.
She certainly hadn’t told him no, exactly, and if he’d taken advantage of her being out all day, he might have started the demolition work already.
Jesse pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed in 911. All she had to do was push the button and she’d have an instant line. But then she wouldn’t look like an idiot if it was just some guy with plumber’s crack taking apart her bathroom.
She opened the door and surveyed the apartment. She could smell fresh coffee percolating and the lights were on. There was a man sitting ever so nicely on her couch, sipping coffee with a proper saucer, even. He was definitely not a plumber.
His hair was blond and slicked back in that creepy, I-might-be-a-Nazi way, and yet, there was something very not Nazi about his movements. He was slow to turn around and when he did, he met her gaze with bright green eyes that said he was slightly annoyed that she was taking so long to join him.
“Darling, sit, sit.” His accent was thick, but she couldn’t quite place it with so few words. Sit came out sounding like seat.
She took a step in and then paused. He certainly didn’t look like he was there to attack her, but he very well could be responsible for those people that had been following her all day. Jesse knew she should be more panicked about a strange man in her apartment, but she couldn’t imagine such a well dressed man deigning to do the dirty work of abducting a woman in broad daylight. His actions spoke more of an over-privileged asshole than a street thug. A streak of bravado rose in her. Over-privileged assholes she knew how to deal with.
“You are late,” he told her.
“You had me followed,” she retorted.
