Hot Toy (5 page)

“That warehouse sounds dangerous,” Courtney said. “Get the cab number and the cabbie's name.”

Nolan shook his head at Reese. “We don't know that she doesn't want to go out with me. She never really got to know me.”

“And whose fault is that?” Trudy said, turning on him. “Three dates and then you don't call, you don't write. But hey, it's not the end of the world.”
And you never kissed me, either. Han Solo would have kissed me.

“Trudy?” Courtney said.

“In a minute,” Trudy said to her.

“I know, I know, that was bad of me; I'm really sorry,” Nolan was saying. “But you didn't seem like you were having a good time.”

“A good time? I was on my best behavior, you jerk. What else did you need? Cries of delight at the faculty party? Moans of appreciation for the movie popcorn? Which, I might point out, I ate alone. Did you think—” She stopped, realizing that arguing made it sound like she cared. “Never mind. I'm sure you had a good reason for disappearing out of my life without a reason. Forget it.”

“Forget what?” Courtney said. “The name of the cabbie? You never gave it to me.”

Trudy leaned over to look at the cab license for her, and Reese tightened his arm across her shoulders. “Alexander Kuroff,” she said into the phone as she straightened.

“Write it down,” Courtney said.

“I don't have any paper,” Trudy said, and Nolan rummaged in her shopping bags and pulled out the Christmas paper she'd bought.

Trudy tore the cellophane off the corner of it and said, “No pen.”

Both men offered her pens, Reese a beat behind Nolan. Trudy took Reese's and wrote the cabbie's name on the white space around the red printed words on the paper.

“And the cab number.”

“Court—”

“Read it to me so I can write it down, too.”

Trudy read it off. “I don't see what good my writing it down is going to do. If I die, the wrapping paper goes with me.”

“You're not going to die,” Nolan said. “I'm here.”

“Oh, give it a rest,” Reese said.

“What cab company?” Courtney said.

“Yellow Checker,” Trudy said. “And I'm stopping this conversation now.”

“Call me every hour,” Courtney said. “If you don't call me, I'll call you. Every hour until you come home with the MacGuffin.”

“What are you going to do if I don't call and I don't answer?”

“Call nine-one-one. But you're going, right?”

“I'm on my way,” Trudy said, sitting back.

“Every hour,” Courtney said.

“Every hour.”

“I'll watch out for her,” Nolan said, close to the phone.

“Who's that?” Courtney said on the phone.

“Nolan again,” Trudy said. “He wants a MacGuffin, too.”

“Well, at least he's the devil we know.”

“We don't know him that well.”

“Hey,” Nolan said. “Your dad can vouch for me. We've been in the same department for two years.”

“That is not a recommendation.”

“What?” Courtney said.

“Dad can vouch for him.”

“Push him out of the cab.”

“Her dad can vouch for me, too,” Reese said, sounding about twelve.

“I have to go, Court,” Trudy said, before they started punching each other on the arm. “It's going to be a while.” She handed Reese his pen back and started to put the wrapping paper back in the bag one-handed and then looked at it more closely in the lights from the street. “Oh,
hell.
”

“What?” Courtney said.

“I got
birthday paper,
” Trudy said. “I need Christmas paper, and this is
birthday—
”

“Trudy,”
Courtney wailed.

“Maybe you can fake it,” Reese said, with badly concealed exasperation. “If it's just a bunch of animals, it could be anything.”

Trudy held up the paper. It said
Happy Birthday
over and over and over. “No animals. Just ‘Happy Birthday' in red.”

“Well, then you're screwed,” Reese said, sounding bored with the whole thing.

“No, she's not.” Nolan held out his hand. “Give it here.”

“You're going to fix this?” Trudy said. “How are you going to fix this?”

Nolan wiggled his fingers. “Gimme.”

She handed the paper over and watched while he took out his pen again and wrote
Jesus
under every
Happy Birthday.

“You're a grave disappointment, but you're also a genius,” Trudy said, giving credit where it was due.

“Did he fix it?” Courtney said.

“Yes,” Trudy told her.

“Make him help you get the Mac.”

“Goodbye,
Courtney,” Trudy said, and hung up.

“So you'll go out with me again?” Nolan said, handing the paper back.

“Not a chance in hell.” Trudy put the paper in the bag with the cow.

“Okay, lunch,” Nolan said. “Lunch isn't really a date.”

“Oh, give it up,” Reese said, and let his head fall back against the top of the seat. “I have lost my patience with you.”

“Well, look for it,” Nolan said. “Maybe it fell off the sleigh.”

“Man, I don't know about you,” Reese said.

“I'm a man of mystery,” Nolan agreed. “Another reason Trudy should see me again.” He smiled at her in the dim light as the cab sped toward the warehouses. “So, meet me for coffee?”

“She doesn't want to meet you for anything,” Reese said.

Yes, I do,
Trudy thought.

“So, coffee,” Nolan said, warm and solid beside her.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme,” the voice on the radio said.

Kill me now,
Trudy thought, and put her head on her shopping bags.

*   *   *

The streets grew dark as the cab left the city proper and turned into the warehouse district, and ten minutes later they stopped outside a deserted building, the parking lot lit by one lamp, high over its main door.

Reese opened the door and got out, holding the door for Trudy, who slid over on the seat and peered out at the darkness.

“There aren't a lot of people here buying MacGuffins,” she said, staring at the empty lot.

“They probably sold out of them while you were trying to decide if I was a rapist,” Reese said, sounding peeved.

“We could turn around and go back,” Nolan said. “I'll buy the coffee.”

Trudy took a deep breath and got out, her three shopping bags bumping against her knees.

“Want me to take those for you?” Reese said.

“No,” Trudy said as Nolan got out behind her.

“You are not a trusting woman,” Reese said.

“I don't think they make those anymore,” Nolan said to him. “Tell you what, since you found the warehouse, I'll pay for the cab.”

“Keep the cab,” Trudy said, and turned back to Reese.

“The Macs are in here,” Reese said, and opened the door to the warehouse.

There was light inside, but Trudy stopped at the door to wait for Nolan. He talked to the cabbie, and then he turned and came toward her and the cab drove away.

“Hey, I told you to keep the cab,” she said, and Nolan took her arm.

“He's coming back,” he said, and his voice sounded different as he looked over her head into the warehouse.

“Why is he leaving at all?”

Reese came back to the door. “Come on in. You're letting the heat out.”

Trudy took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold into the warehouse, dragging Nolan with her since he wouldn't let go of her arm.

The place was a cavern filled with rows of shelving crammed with boxes, a giant version of the old toy store. High above, industrial lighting made the center space by the door bright, but the rest of the place was dark. It wasn't silent, though. There was a radio somewhere blaring “The Little Drummer Boy.”

“Rum-pa-pum-pum,” Trudy said, not at all reassured.

“Over here,” Reese said, and led them away from the door, Trudy pulling Nolan along, since he still wouldn't let go. “You can leave your Mac here.” He dropped his bag with the Twinkletoes in it. “I'm leaving my bag here.”

“Where are the MacGuffins?” Trudy said, keeping a tight hold on her own bags.

“And who are
they?
” Nolan said, and Trudy looked back to see three men now standing in front of the door. They looked a lot like Reese, young and dudelike in denim jackets, but they weren't smiling.

Uh-oh,
Trudy thought.

“Wait here,” Reese said, and went over to confer with the men.

“You know, I don't feel good about this,” she said to Nolan.

“Good instincts,” Nolan said, not taking his eyes off the men. “Come here.”

He tugged on her arm and she let him pull her over to the closest row of shelves.

“Be with you in a minute,” Reese called back, and Trudy nodded to him, and then Nolan jerked her arm and she tripped after him between two rows of shelves and into the darkness.

“What are you doing?” she said.

“Shhhh.” He kept going, tugging her deeper into the gloom of the unlit shelving.

“What do you mean, ‘Shhhh'? What's going on?”

“Quiet.” Nolan pulled her down another side row and then across another one, effectively losing them both in the darkness.

“Stop shushing me. I don't like—”

He stopped and cupped her face with his hands and whispered, “Trudy, please shut up.”

“Why?” Trudy whispered back.

He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “Because I think Reese is a bad guy. And I think he wants your MacGuffin. And I think those guys out there are his minions. So we should—”

“Minions?” Trudy said, so startled she spoke out loud.

Nolan put his hand over her mouth. “And we don't want them to find us,” he whispered. “Not unless you're prepared to give up that MacGuffin.”

Trudy shook her head, and he took his hand away and bent to her ear again. “Then we should hide it here. They're going to find us, and we can tell them the box is here and let them spend the rest of their lives looking for it—”

Trudy shook her head again.
“No.”

He slapped his hand over her mouth and whispered, “
Listen.
I'm not a toy collector, I'm an undercover cop.”

Trudy pulled back, trying to see him in the dark. “I don't believe it,” she whispered back. “An undercover cop who teaches Chinese lit?”

“I'm a well-educated undercover cop.”

“This is your explanation.” She shook her head and started to move away, and he pulled her back.

“Look,” he whispered in her ear, “we knew the bad guys were operating from the university lit department, and I really do have a degree in Chinese. And some literature. Hey, I'm a good teacher.”

Actually, he was, Trudy remembered. That was another thing that had made her want to go out with him, competence. And now he was telling her that there was a toy-theft ring operating out of the lit department. “‘The bad guys.' Is that really cop talk?”

“It's too dark to show you my ID. Want to feel my badge?”

“You have to be kidding me.”

“Your buddy Reese—”

“He's not my buddy,” Trudy said, and then she heard Reese call her name from the center space of the warehouse and stepped closer to Nolan.

“Listen to me,” Nolan said. “They're toy hijackers and they want that doll. If things get bad,
give it to them.
”

Toy hijackers?
“No.”

She heard him draw in his breath in exasperation, but she didn't care.

“This is for Leroy,” she whispered. “His rat daddy ran off with the rat nanny, and his mother is in meltdown, but he knows Santa is bringing him a MacGuffin. He's getting it.”

“Oh, Christ,” Nolan said under his breath. “I'll get him another one, I swear. Just give them that one so we can walk out of here alive.”

“That's not very heroic.”

“I'll be heroic when you're not here,” Nolan whispered. “Now I just want you out in one piece.”

“I'm not giving up Leroy's Mac. What's your Plan B?”

Nolan sighed his exasperation and then took her arm and drew her deeper into the shelves. “We hide.”

“Hide?” Trudy whispered back. “How—”

“Shut up,” he whispered, and she did, following him deeper into the darkness until they came to a wall. He took her hand and led her along the wall until he found a staircase, and then he took her slowly up the stairs, testing each tread to make sure it didn't creak, which wasn't really necessary since “The Little Drummer Boy” had given way to Brenda Lee singing “Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree,” making her usual Christmas fortune in residuals.

When they reached the top, they were on a walkway, looking out over the warehouse beneath the windows of a darkened office. Nolan tugged her arm and she sank down with him on the metal platform as silently as possible, her shopping bags rustling.

“Now what?” she whispered.

“Now we wait for backup.”

“What backup?”

“The backup I sent the cabbie for. Shhhh.”

He was peering over the rail, but they were too far away to see into the lighted part of the warehouse.

“You're really a cop?” Trudy whispered. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”

“I don't know,” Nolan whispered back. “Why are you holding on to that damn doll when that could get us out of here?”

“What if you're not a cop? What if Reese is your accomplice and you're working together to get the Mac from me?”

“For our mutual nephew?” Nolan's whisper sounded a lot tougher now, but that might just have been the exasperation in his voice. “Has it occurred to you that you're trapped in a deserted warehouse with a bunch of thugs?”