She screamed these last words, but Bettina did not respond. An explosive noise from up above brought the child to her senses. The strange man had broken through the door!
With tears filling her eyes, she kissed the kind old woman’s soft cheek and said good-bye. There was no time for more.
By the time the man appeared at the open window, she was on the ground, grabbing the suitcase Bettina had thrown. He shot at her, but missed. Lorraine wasn’t about to give him another chance. She ran as fast as her small legs could carry her.
22
IT WAS AMAZING how fast a little kid could disappear off the face of the earth. Once he’d broken down the door to the old woman’s apartment, Joe Trefill had seen the open window and had pursued his quarry out onto the fire escape. He’d paused a flight above the old woman, wondering if he was walking into a trap. He thought she might grab him, making him lose his balance and fall into the filthy alley below. From that viewpoint he could see the child. He’d fired off a warning shot, deliberately missing her. LaBerge had made it very clear she wasn’t to be harmed. Well, if that fat pig thought he could get the kid without a little rough stuff, let him try!
He’d screwed up, royally. LaBerge had also let him know that, and had promised him nothing more than his hide intact if he fixed it all up and delivered the child as planned.
Trefill had tucked the gun into its holster again before racing down the fire escape. He was no longer wary of the old woman—she could be dead, for all he cared. But he couldn’t lose sight of that child!
He crashed out of the alley and onto the street, nearly slamming into a bag lady. She yelled something at him, but he didn’t hear her. His eyes were focused about two streets ahead, on a fading patch of bright red. It was the kid’s shirt. If he ran, he’d catch up to her. No way was some six-year-old bitch gonna get away from him twice!
Joe Trefill had been working for Walter LaBerge for ten years, and in all that time he still hadn’t learned what LaBerge’s work was all about. Something to do with weapons, he thought, because it was based in a New Jersey factory where they made parts for airplanes. All that secret government stuff, the stuff LaBerge didn’t believe Trefill had the right to know despite his years of faithful service, always pointed to military crap. Trefill wasn’t treated with much more respect than a lackey. But this time, he thought as he raced along Eighth Avenue, there was a chance to prove his real worth.
And he’d screwed up, royally.
The crowd grew more dense, making it impossible to keep track of the child any longer. Trefill was forced to slow down to keep from bumping into people. He moved ahead with a quick, impatient stride. The kid would have to stop and rest sometime. If it took all night, he’d find her.
He couldn’t imagine what a six-year-old girl had to do with LaBerge’s work. They’d acted as if she was very important. LaBerge had given him a big speech about trust, about how vital it was that he deliver the kid as planned. When they’d found her, the only information she’d been able to give was the name of a couple living in New England. They’d traced the man and woman. Then they’d given Trefill a suitcase full of money and instructions to bribe the couple so that they’d explain everything about the child.
But Trefill had gotten off the wrong train and had ended up in a bad section of New York City. He’d been mugged, and the kid had run away. It had taken him days to find her.
Now he’d lost her once again, but this time he was determined to get her back right away.
Feeling as tense as a hungry tiger, he went off to find his prey.
Lorraine had wanted to run as fast as she could, as far as she could. But the streets surrounding the apartment building were filled with people. Clutching the valise tightly to her chest, she kept her chin tucked down and wove her way through the crowd. Without much conscious effort her mind registered the variety of shoes she saw: platform high heels, black shoes and brown shoes, sneakers with fluorescent laces. Twice, a face looked up at her from the sidewalk, filthy visages belonging to men who were too drunk to even stand. Lorraine ignored them all, and in turn, they ignored her. In a city that had to claim countless homeless families, the sight of a child on the streets at night was nothing unusual.
She didn’t dare look back, for fear the action would bring the stranger into view. Lorraine had no idea how much of a head start she had on him. He’d been five flights above her when she reached the ground level of the building, but if he’d been running he might be right behind her, just inches away from reaching out and grabbing her.
Her heart pounded behind the shieldlike suitcase. She moved around a puddle that filled the gutter of one corner and dared a quick glance to be sure there were no cars coming.