Dirty Blonde

CHAPTER 27

Cate stepped out into the bitter cold, and on contact, her breath became a chain smoker’s fog, wreathing her face. She held her coat close to her neck and carried the trash bag in her free hand. She walked down the front steps, head down as if she were watching her footing, but she kept sneaking looks at the cars parked along Meadowbrook. There were more now than when she had first come; people had arrived home from work and parked their second cars on the street, so it was bumper-to-bumper along the curb. Many of the cars were dark, but after a few looks to the left of Gina’s house, Cate could see as far as eight cars down, in the bright, purplish light cast by the streetlight. She scanned the far and near sides of the street. One each side, all six driver’s seats were empty.

Good.

She walked down the driveway, alongside the Pathfinder and the Mercedes, making an apparent beeline for the dented steel trash can at the curb. When she reached it, she made a show of grabbing the metal handle, freezing in her bare hand, pulling off the lid, and moving the white trash bags that were already inside, as if she were making room. The street looked quiet. Many of the cars were dark, but it was nighttime and there was no streetlight in that direction, so it was dimmer than the other side.

If I were a bad guy, I’d park on the dark side.

Cate stole a glance to the right side and dropped the trash bag in the can. She could only see four cars down on either side of the street, because the streetlight faded at the perimeter. She was squinting past the fourth, making a fuss over closing the trash can lid, when she saw a sudden movement. In one of the cars. On the far side of the street.

There.

Cate tried not to panic. Had she seen it? Was it her imagination? It looked like a shadow in the car across the way. About six cars down, on the edge of the light, in shadow. The front-door lights from the houses only generally illuminated the area. She faked a big deal of clanging the trash can lid around and fitting it on tightly, as if she were afraid of marauding raccoons, not scary detectives. She snuck another look at the sixth car. A shadow. It was there, in the driver’s seat. The car was dark. She tried to read the license plate but it was too dark. It could be him.

I’m outta here.

Cate forced herself to walk slowly up the driveway to the front walk, then up the steps, and inside the house. Her heart began to hammer, and she didn’t take a breath until she got inside and locked the door behind her. The living-room light was back on, and Gina was coming downstairs.

“He went down like a dream,” she said happily, then stopped when she read Cate’s expression. “He’s there?”

“I swear, I saw something.” Cate tried not to panic her. Or herself. “Don’t get all Lucy and Ethel about it.”

“What did you see? Where?”

“In one of the cars.” Cate pointed to the right. “On the far side of the street.”

Gina’s eyes flared. “You’re kidding.”

“Quick.” Cate crossed to the table lamp and switched it off, plunging them both into darkness.

“You really think you saw something?”

“I want to make sure.” Cate went over to the window and moved aside the curtain, peering at the dark street. It was harder to see at a distance and in the parallax view, and she inched so close to the window she could feel the frost on her nose.

“What do you see?” Gina came to her side, trying to look out, too.

“I knew this would turn into Lucy and Ethel.”

“It’s inevitable.”

“Shhh, I’m counting.” Cate counted the cars to the one where she thought she saw the shadow. Three, four, five, six. There was a distinct shadow in the driver’s seat, low in the seat, as if he were slouching down. She drew back, closed the curtain, and looked at Gina in the dark. “Why would he park there, ahead of the house? How can he watch the house with his back to it?”

“Meadowbrook’s one-way. If he parks past the house, he can follow you out when you go.”

“Right.” Cate thought ahead. He must have come when they were having dinner. Or earlier and planted himself. He could have been there all afternoon, a crazy cop sitting in front of Gina’s house. “I shouldn’t have come. I jeopardized you and the baby.”

“I’m calling 911.” Gina went for the phone on the end table, but Cate was getting another idea.

“Go, do it. Tell them who I am, that’s working well lately. And say his name is Russo, because the cops are looking for him. Dark blue car, looks like a Ford. We can’t see the plate.” Cate dashed out of the living room and into the kitchen, where the lights were still on. She hustled to the knife rack on the counter and pulled out the biggest, scariest knife she could find and ran back to the living room, hiding it behind her back, even in the dark.

“Two-sixty-three Meadowbrook Road,” Gina was saying into the phone. “He’s parked in the dark blue Ford, six cars up from my house. On the even-numbered side of the street. Yes, that’s right. Fante. F-AN-T-E. No, F-A-N-”

Maybe I don’t have the clout I thought. “Be right back.” Cate opened the front door a crack and slipped outside.

“No, wait! Where are you going?”

Cate shut the door and was already outside in the cold. She instantly dropped behind a shrub, so he couldn’t see her, and bent over more, kicking off her pumps so they didn’t make any noise. Crouching low, she scurried in bare feet around the front of the Mercedes to its far side, traveled low along the Pathfinder, then darted across the sidewalk and stopped behind the parked car. She prayed nobody would start walking their dogs as she crouched lower and dashed across the street, ripping the toes of her pantyhose on the street grime, her feet turning to ice. In two seconds, she was on the other side of the street, hiding behind the back of an SUV, breathing hard.

Yikes. Cate covered her mouth so the breath fog wouldn’t show. Then she waited. Breathing as shallowly as possible, as low as possible. Forcing herself to wait. It wouldn’t take long for the cops to get here. They’d used the magical Fante name, so famous it had to be spelled. Twice.

Cate waited and waited in the cold for the right moment. She couldn’t be early, but she couldn’t be late, either.

Now.

She braced herself, holding the knife at her side, then took off, sneaking around the filthy bumper of the SUV to the curb and climbing up, alongside the parked cars. In the distance she heard sirens, too far away.

Wait.

After another minute, she inched forward, making a hump of her back, trying to ignore her freezing feet. The sirens sounded closer, and Cate moved along the car. She hoped Russo wouldn’t drive away. He wouldn’t know the sirens were for him, because she’d been so clever with her trash-can show.

The sirens got closer, and she moved forward to the fifth car, then waited. She moved along the length of the fifth car, creeping to the fourth. The sirens sounded only blocks away, and she could see curtains being pulled aside in the town houses. Lights went on, here and there.

She inched to the third car, her heart almost leaping from her chest. Her knees aching. Her feet freezing.

Hurry. Hurry.

The twin sirens sounded as if they were right at the development. The entrance was only three blocks from Meadowbrook. Cate prayed they wouldn’t get lost.

Suddenly she heard a noise closer, only a car away, coming from the sixth car. Exhaust burst from its tailpipe, a chalky explosion, almost in her face. Sirens blared in the next block. Russo was turning on the ignition.

He was going to get away.

Neighbors started coming out of their houses, curious. Sirens screamed louder than ever. White reverse lights on the sixth car blinked on, momentarily blinding.

Now!

Cate rushed the car from behind, coming out of her full crouch just as the lights blinked to red and the car started to go forward. She raised the big knife like a psycho killer, plunged it with all her might between the treads of the car’s back tire, and yanked it out, in one desperate motion. Pssssst! Smelly air sprayed from the tire hole.

“You can’t get away now, you bastard!” Cate shouted, springing up. The dark car moved forward, only slowly, sinking in the back where she’d slashed the tire.

Two police cars sped onto Meadowbrook, tearing down the street, converging on the moving car from opposite directions. The cruisers slammed to a halt, blocking the hobbled car, then all the cruiser doors popped open and patrol officers poured out on all sides, drawing their guns instantly on the dark car.

“Freeze! Police!” they all shouted at once, adrenalized, their bodies jittery shadows in the high beams of the idling cruisers.

“That’s him! Get him! Careful!” Cate almost cheered. Neighbors flowed from the town houses, and Gina ran toward her.

“Come on out, you won’t get hurt!” the cops kept shouting. “Take it easy! Hands in the air!” They aimed their revolvers, two-handed grips, on the dark car, which was sinking in the middle of the street. Cate held her breath while the driver’s-side door opened and she saw the backs of two hands rising in the night air.

“Don’t shoot! I’m a cop!” came a shout from the dark car.

“He’s a crooked cop!” Cate shouted back. “Watch out! He broke into my house! My office!”

Gina ran up to her side, panting. “He followed her here! He’s crazy!”

“Get out of the car, sir! Get out of the car!” the cops shouted, their weapons trained.

In the next second, Cate saw the back of a black watch cap emerge from the driver’s seat, and two cops lowered their weapons and rushed him as a team, flipping him facedown against the car, disarming him, wrenching his hands behind his back, then handcuffing him.

“Stay calm! Nice and easy!” the other two cops shouted, their weapons still aimed on target.

Against the car, the watch cap moved up to reveal a man looking at Cate. “Judge?” he asked, in disbelief.

Cate blinked, astounded. The driver wasn’t Russo at all.