Marked Man

66

I figured it out right away, exactly what was happening. As Charlie cursed at the sight of the gun and Monica gasped and Joey laughed, the truth of it clicked in my head, left, right, left, oh, crap. I might not be the sharpest spade, but put a gun to my head and I sharpen considerably.

He had sent her from the start, Teddy had. She was the friend from Allentown. Rhonda, not some old grizzled vet, she was the left-handed dispatcher of both Ralphie Meat and Stanford Quick, now here to wipe out Charlie, and Joey, and then me. Monica had met Teddy in California, so she’d have to go, too. Who’s next? We were next, the four of us, and I had delivered us all to her like sacrificial lambs on the altar of my stupidity.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t checked her out. I had called Newsday, I had asked if there was a Rhonda Harris who reported for them on the art beat, they assured me there was. But I hadn’t asked for a description, and how hard is it for a clever hit girl to steal an identity for as long as it takes to get the job done? And I should never have doubted, for even an instant, that someone was out there to wipe away Teddy’s problems in his old hometown. The one thing I had learned about him was that he never went with just a single option. Always have a backup plan, kid, or the vultures here will eat you alive, had said Theodore Purcell, and now his backup plan was pointing a gun at my face.

“Does this mean you’re not writing a book?” I said as I frantically tried to figure out what the hell to do.

“Why would I worry over words when this is so much simpler?” she said.

“No agent? No proposal? No advance? I thought we had a future together.”

“Oh, Victor,” she said as she waggled the gun at me. “We do. It’s just going to be very short.”

“What’s going on?” said Monica. “Victor?”

“She’s going to kill us.”

“Of course she’s going to kill us. But why?”

“It’s payback for what we done to your sister,” said Joey. “Karma with a gun.”

“Chantal wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“But it’s what she’s getting,” said Rhonda. “And after what I heard, I think I’m doing everyone a favor.”

“You look good for a Korean War vet,” I said.

“That’s my father,” she said. “But with two false hips, he doesn’t get around so well anymore, so I took over the family business. One step up from animal control.”

“You led them to me again, you idiot,” said Charlie.

“I guess I did.”

“As a lawyer you might be okay, Victor,” said Charlie, “but as a bodyguard, you’re the-”

Before he could finish, I jerked up the door latch and slammed the door with all the strength in my shoulder. I expected to feel the weight of her bang away from the taxi, but she did a graceful sidestep as the door swung wildly open. I almost tumbled to the ground, held up only by my seat belt, when the door swung back and smacked me in the head.

She pulled the door away from me and kicked me in the chest, so I was flung back into the taxi.

“Let’s not make too big a mess,” she said. “The cleaners are already on their way.”

With her side to the now-open door, she pointed her gun toward Charlie in the backseat. And then we heard it.

An engine revving nearby, a rustle of weeds behind us.

Rhonda looked up just as a small, dark car burst out of the vegetation and headed right for us.

Rhonda’s gun arm swiveled.

The onrushing car’s high beams burst on.

She threw up an arm.

The car jumped forward.

There was an explosion near my head. And then, with a blast of hot air on my face, with a jumble of red hair and white limbs, with an aborted cry and the dying scream of torn metal, the car came upon us and beside us and rushed past us.

And just like that, the gun, the open car door, and Rhonda Harris had all disappeared.