The Lost Years

32

Rory spotted the car waiting at the corner as she reached the top step of the subway exit Monday evening. She had hurried up the stairs and was now short of breath. The sense that everything was closing in on her was overwhelming. She had to get the money and escape. Years ago she had disappeared and she could do it again. As soon as she got out of prison after serving seven years for stealing from that old lady, she skipped her parole.

I reinvented myself, she thought. She had taken on the identity of a cousin who had retired after years of being a caregiver and who had moved to Italy, then died suddenly. I worked hard, she thought angrily. Now even if they can’t prove that I left the gun out and left the door unlocked, I’ll go back to prison because of the parole violation. And I saw nutty Kathleen looking out the window when I put the gun in the flower bed. Did she see me? She has a way of blurting out stuff that you would think she didn’t notice.

The passenger door of the car was being opened from the inside. The street was busy, and even though it was still hot people were moving swiftly. Everyone rushing toward air-conditioning, Rory thought as she felt sweat beginning to gather on her forehead and around her neck. She pushed back a strand of hair that was drooping over her chin. I’m a mess, she thought as she got in the car. Once I get away, I’ll check into a spa and get myself back in shape. Who knows? If I look good and have money, there may be another Joe Peck around somewhere waiting just for me.

She reached for the handle of the door and pulled it closed.

“Eight o’clock,” he said approvingly. “You’re right on time. I just got here myself.”

“Where’s my money?”

“Look in the backseat. Do you see those suitcases?”

She craned her neck. “They look heavy.”

“They are. You wanted a bonus. I gave you one. You deserve it.”

His hand went to her neck. His thumb pressed with all his strength into a vein.

Rory’s head slumped forward. She did not feel the needle he thrust into her arm nor hear the sound of the engine as the car sped downtown to the warehouse.

“It’s too bad you won’t be alive to enjoy the sarcophagus I’ve got all set for you, Rory,” he said aloud. “In case you don’t know what that is, it’s a coffin. This one is fit for a queen. Not that there’s anything regal about you, I’m sorry to say,” he added with a smirk.