Project Produce(12)

I choked. “Classic car?”

“Oooh, yeah, a real muscle car, as sleek and fine as him. I was just about to talk to him, but he folded that gorgeous body into his ride and drove away before I had a chance.” Gloria sighed. “Too bad. He had the biggest damn feet I’ve ever seen. Could’ve been a great subject for your project, especially if you’re planning on any hands-on research. Hell, I would’ve volunteered to be your assistant for that job.” She winked and took another sip. “Want some?”

I stood up and went over to the sink for a glass of water, but when a cloudy stream trickled out of the spout, I thought better of it. “No thanks,” I said, shelving the glass. “I’m suddenly not feeling well. I’m going out for some air.”

“Be careful. There are some nasty scumbuckets out there.”

“I will. You going to be around when I get back?”

“Nah. Gotta head into the city and hit the club scene if I’m ever gonna make the big-time as a singer.”

“Good luck.” I pulled on my Eskimo parka, hat, and mittens and then grabbed my coke-bottle-thick glasses. I had new contacts, but the frustrating things still took way too long to get in. Right now I didn’t have the time or the patience, so I headed outside and a blast of cold air hit me in the face. I welcomed the icy numbness. Maybe it would cool off the boiling rage burning up my insides. I knew exactly what scumbucket had put pressure on Mr. Clean, and I had a pretty good idea where to find him.

Before I knew it, I stepped off the subway, jogged up the stairs, and walked along the dark street toward the motel. The dirty slush on the sidewalk glowed in the moonlight, and a soft mist started to fall. I took my glasses off to wipe away the water spots when they slipped out of my hands.

Struggling to find the glasses, I heard a crunch. Shoot. My worst nightmare had come true. Blind as a bat. Picking up the broken remains, I shoved them in my pocket and then tightened my coat, feeling creeped-out by the shadows around every corner.

I took this route to work every night. It wasn’t like I had a car, and I couldn’t afford a cab, so I hopped the subway as far as I could and walked the rest. But tonight the streets were nearly empty.

I walked faster and the wind picked up, then my puffy hood got caught on the branch of a bush. I tugged at the hood, trying to free it, but the branch held fast, and I swore I heard a rustling behind the bush.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. “Oh, I am so not in the mood for this.” I yanked harder. The rustling increased, and my breathing turned choppy, but my hood finally gave way and the branch snapped back into place.

Oh, God. I glanced over my shoulder, but didn’t see anything, so I kept walking. Shoving my hands in my pocket, I frowned, then searched the inside for my keys. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

I hated the thought of going back by that bush, but Gloria would kill me if I lost her extra set of keys. I listened, but I didn’t hear anything, so I turned around and jogged back in the direction I’d just come from. The rustling started up again like an animal scurrying around.

Stay calm, I ordered myself, and looked around for a weapon, but then it grew quiet again. I leaned forward and squinted. Still nothing. Then I looked down. “Thank God.” I bent over and snatched up my dropped keys, then headed back toward the hotel as quick as I could.

Booking it down the street, I didn’t stop until I reached Simpson’s Sanctuary, trying not to pee my pants. And I hadn’t even had any kids yet.

A piece of paper taped to the front door of the motel caught my attention. I leaned forward until my nose hovered two inches away as I struggled to make out the words.

I already knew what it said, but I’d hoped Simpson would find a loophole somehow. Fat chance. Simpson wasn’t smart enough, and the scumbucket had made sure that wouldn’t happen. Why, why, why did men feel like they had to take charge and control everything?

I balled my fists. “Why you little--”

“Looks like you need my assistance after all,” said a familiar voice from behind me.





CHAPTER THREE





“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” I jumped a foot, made the sign of the cross, then spun around. Whipping my hands in front of me in a self-defense position like I’d seen on TV, I scrunched up my face in determination.

Detective Cabrizzi stepped out of the shadows behind me, looked me over, and then nodded with a smirk. “Ma’am.”

Okay, so I probably looked more like I was constipated than trying to defend myself, but at least I had done something. I relaxed my fists and took a deep breath to slow the bongos hammering against my chest. “Darn you.” I dropped my keys yet once again. “Do you always sneak up on unsuspecting women like that?”