Shot Girl (32 page)

He kissed me then, long and slow, and my body didn’t want him to go.
I
didn’t want him to go. I wanted that sleepover—without the sleep, of course.

Finally, Vinny pulled away, but his face was inches from mine. He gazed at me as if he was memorizing me. "I love you," he said simply, then let me go and walked out of my apartment without a look behind him.

 
I waited for the claustrophobia to settle in, but it didn’t come. All I felt was warm all over, and I decided a beer just wouldn’t do as I took the bottle of cognac out of the cupboard and poured myself a short one. I carried the glass with me to the window, where I saw the tail end of Tom’s Impala moving down the block, Riley in his cruiser in front of the brownstone.

Where was the freak-out? He’d told me he
loved
me. It was that word. The one I hadn’t used in a very long time. The one I hadn’t heard in a long time because I went out with men who were as emotionally stunted in the commitment area as I was.

Vinny had been with his former fiancée, Rosie, for five years. Five years. I couldn’t imagine that. I hadn’t even been with Ralph for three years. But I had loved him, loved him with every part of myself. Until he screwed up.

Maybe finding out that I hadn’t really known him at all was what had done it for me. Finding out that he was a con man, that I’d been conned. It demeaned what I thought we’d had together, and he actually thought I’d go along with it at first.

"Come on, Annie," he’d said. When I closed my eyes, I could see him in front of me, that crooked smile. "We’ll take the money, go somewhere, start over. No one has to know. It’s easy, you know. You can just write anything and they’ll believe it because it’s in the paper. Jesus, people are stupid."

Had he thought that all along? Had he been planning this con from the get-go? I never knew. He did think I was so blinded by the love goggles that I’d forgive him. And obviously from his behavior at the Rouge Lounge, he thought he had another chance. I couldn’t believe his arrogance. But it had been there at the start; I had just chosen not to see it.

He was probably sorry no one made a movie about him like the one about Stephen Glass or that he hadn’t gotten a book deal like Jayson Blair.

I swirled the brown liquid in my glass, and a tinge of something hit me. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but knowing that Vinny wasn’t going to screw up, he wasn’t going to be like Ralph, was somehow comforting.

I sipped my brandy as I watched the streetlights come on around Wooster Square. The long day had started to settle into its short night, twilight bleeding into darkness. I wanted to be with Vinny and Tom right now, seeing Felicia, finding out what the hell was going on. But I was stuck here, with a bodyguard who could fix air conditioners.

I wondered if there was anything else around the apartment that needed fixing.

And then the phone rang.

I glanced at it, decided to screen. My voice seemed too loud. My hand shook slightly as I waited for the response that never came.

Silence for two seconds, then dial tone.

Whoever it was, was still out there. Calling me. Knowing that I was alone. Maybe he’d seen Tom and Vinny leave. But surely then he had seen Riley in the cruiser.

I moved away from the window. The lights were out, and it was darker now. If I turned the light on, whoever was outside would be able to see me. I sat on the couch in the dark, sipping my drink, wondering if I had enough to last the night.

The phone rang again.

My whole body stiffened, the liquid swishing in the glass as my hand started to shake. I heard my voice again, the beep, and then:

"Annie? It’s Ned. Ned Winters. If you’re there, pick up.">

Chapter 42

A flood of relief washed over me, and I picked up the handset. "What’s up, Ned? You took Priscilla to the train?"

"Oh, well, she decided not to go home after all. Why don’t you talk to her?"

Not even a second passed and I heard, "Hey, Annie."

"Hey there, girlfriend. What’s going on? It’s not like you to change your mind a million times. That binge must have really hit you. We brought you soup." I saw the take-out bag still sitting on the island, and I got up to put it in the fridge. "I can’t believe Ned came to pick you up after abandoning you. What’s up with him?"

"Ned talked me into staying. We’re at the Anchor. Since you already had dinner, how about a drink?"

"Didn’t you have enough earlier?" I asked, sounding like her mother. But she
had
been throwing up in my toilet all afternoon.

"Oh, I’m not drinking. You kidding me? After today? But it would really be great if you could come have a drink. I’ll stay over at your place after all. I can get a ride home with you."

I was about to say I couldn’t, I had to wait for Tom, when Priscilla whispered, "Listen, Annie, I can’t handle Ned alone. He’s a wreck, about Ralph, about his dad. I really could use the reinforcements."

I sighed. "I’ve got that cop out front."

"Oh, him?" Priscilla giggled, her voice back to her normal tone again. "He’s a cutie."

"If you’re a cradle robber maybe. But what I’m saying is, I can’t leave. If I climb out the window again, Tom’ll have my ass."

"Oh, hold on, Ned wants to talk to you."

"Annie? Why don’t we come by and pick you up? The cop knows me from before, and if you tell Tom you’re just going out for a drink with us, he can’t be upset about that, can he?"

There was an odd logic to it. I didn’t want to stick around here. Granted, I’d be stuck with tripping down memory lane again, but it was preferable to just waiting for Vinny to come back. And since I’d abandoned Priscilla with Ned earlier, I felt like I owed her one for that.

"Yeah, sure, okay," I said. "I’ll meet you out front."

I hung up and grabbed my bag, locking the door behind me. Night had fallen now, and the streetlamps glowed against the silhouettes of the trees around the square. The heat and humidity had not dissipated but hung like a wet cloth. I went over to the cruiser, which was running. Riley rolled down his window, and the blast of cold air hit my face.

"My friends are picking me up. You know, Ned, the guy with the Jeep, who picked up my friend Priscilla earlier," I said. "I’ll call Tom and tell him we’re going to the Anchor for a drink."

Riley shook his head. "You’re not supposed to leave."

"Listen, are you on duty? This is a total waste of taxpayer money to sit here in front of my apartment all day."

"I’ve got orders," he tried.

"Do you have a cell phone I can use?" I asked. "I’ll just call Tom and tell him what’s going on."

"Don’t you have a cell phone?"

I thought about the bits of plastic on the sidewalk over at Southern. "Not at the moment," I said.

Riley reluctantly handed me a cell phone, and I punched in Tom’s number.

"Are you okay?" His voice was anxious, like I shouldn’t be.

"Priscilla and Ned are at the Anchor and they’re coming to pick me up and take me over there, too. I tried to tell Riley here that it was okay, and he doesn’t have to babysit me anymore." I paused. "How’s Felicia?"

He was quiet so long I thought I’d lost the connection. "Hello?" I asked.

"Yeah, I’m here. Okay, I’ll meet you at the Anchor."

"So what’s up with Felicia?" I asked again.

"She’s not here."

"What do you mean she’s not there?"

"She gave Rocco the slip."

"Jesus, what are we, in a Humphrey Bogart movie? What do you mean, she gave him the slip?"

"Just like I said. You know how you got out of your apartment earlier? Well, she had the same idea. With the same success, apparently." The exasperation dripped off Tom’s words.

"So you don’t know where she is at all?"

"No sign of her. Listen, I need to talk a little bit more with Vinny and his brother. Vinny and I will meet you at the Anchor. Stay put there, okay?"

"Sure."

"Let me talk to Riley."

I leaned against the side of the cruiser, ignoring Riley’s frown, as he talked to Tom. When he was done, he stuck his head farther out the window. "I’ll stay until he picks you up."

I nodded, but I wasn’t totally paying attention. My car was right there. I’d missed it today, riding that damn bus and then riding with Dick. If I drove myself, then I could bring Priscilla home after just one drink, leaving Ned behind.

But just as I was about to look for my keys, the red Jeep came toward me. It eased to a stop in front of my building. Ned waved. I gave a wave back, then nodded at Riley before I crossed the street and climbed into the Jeep.

"Where’s Priscilla?" I asked.

"She’s saving the table for us," he said, pulling away from the curb.

"I’m surprised she didn’t go home," I said. "She was pretty sick."

"She’s better now. She had something to eat," Ned said, his eyes trained on the road. He wore wire-framed glasses.

I chuckled. "Guess our eyesight isn’t going to be getting better from now on, right? I didn’t know you wore glasses."

"Just for night driving," he said, but I could tell his thoughts were somewhere else.

"Thinking about your dad?" I tried to grab at some of that elusive compassion.

He shrugged.

The Jeep went around Wooster Square and turned back, going in the opposite direction it had come from on Chapel. Ned didn’t seem like he wanted to talk, so I didn’t say anything else. He kept looking in the rearview mirror, however.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Probably nothing."

"What do you mean?" I twisted around in my seat and saw a set of headlights behind us. "Is someone following us?"

"I don’t know. But those lights were behind us when we went around the square, and they’re still there. Didn’t you say someone was stalking you?"

My chest constricted with each word.

Ned took a right onto Church Street.

"Where are you going?" I asked. The Anchor was just off Chapel Street, which was the road we’d been on.

"I’m going to lose him," Ned said, glancing up and down between the rearview mirror and the road in front of him. He stopped at the light at Elm, in the middle lane, then swerved quickly to the right, turning down the one-way street, ran a yellow light at Orange, swinging fast to the left.

The headlights stayed with us.

And the farther north we went, the farther from the Anchor we were. Tom would be pissed if I wasn’t there. But Priscilla was.

"Give me your phone," I said.

Ned shook his head. "No."

"Jesus, Ned. I’m going to call Priscilla. Tell her why we’re not there yet."

"Hold off a little. This shouldn’t take long."

The car swung around through the back streets between Orange and Whitney. This was Yale grad-student territory, big old houses split up into apartments, no yards, just a patch of green in front, some with flowers, some overgrown. I’d thought about moving here at one point, but my neighborhood was less dicey, a little more tended to.

Ned turned up Edwards, ending up on Munson, with a little maneuvering. The headlights continued to tail us. I knew where Ned was heading now; when he turned up Crescent, around Beaver Pond Park, it was clear.

Soon we would be at Fitch Street, where Ned felt more comfortable—at Southern Connecticut State University.

We were a long way from downtown New Haven at this point.

We’d turned down Fitch when I realized the headlights behind us were gone.

The Jeep slowed to a stop. Ned hit his hazard lights and cocked his head toward me.

"What?" I asked. "What’s going on?"

Ned shifted in his seat. His face was clouded in a shadow, so I couldn’t read his expression.

"How did you get a key?" he asked softly.

"What?"

"How did you get a key?" Ned asked. "Only Ralph and I had keys to the apartment. But you let yourself in."

I swallowed hard. How the hell had Ned known I was there the other night? I tried a small chuckle, but it came out as sort of a twitter, inhuman almost. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," I said, although not too convincingly. I certainly wouldn’t have believed me.

Ned’s hand snapped around mine and held it tight before I could even think about getting out of the Jeep. "Did he give you the key? He wasn’t supposed to do that. It wasn’t supposed to happen that way."

I stared at him a second, this person I’d once been close to, this person who’d once been a best friend. This person who had come to my rescue just this afternoon. We’d shared a lot together—kid stuff, stupid stuff. We’d shared dreams. And I should’ve suspected something earlier. But sometimes when the obvious is right in front of us, we don’t see it.

Jack Hammer had said it was someone who had gotten close to me. Couldn’t get much closer than this.

"You’ve been helping Ralph stalk me, haven’t you?" I asked. I wondered why my voice was so calm, why my heart wasn’t beating a million miles a minute.

"Why did he give you the key?" Ned sounded like a goddamn broken record.

I thought back to three nights ago. Had it been only three? It felt like a lifetime.

Seeing Ralph had thrown me for a loop. It had been a long time, but I could never have forgotten his face, despite the tug of time around his eyes, his mouth. When he kissed me, he’d pressed the key into my hand.

"You know where to find me," he’d whispered. "Tonight. We can pick up where we left off."

I hadn’t had time to give it back; he was gone, groping that bartender who looked at him like he was the best thing since sliced bread. I’d recognized myself in her, the girl I’d been, the one who’d fallen so hard for this man. But he hadn’t been a man; he’d been a stupid kid, worse than Dick Whitfield, because even though Dick was a boob, he would never make shit up. He had ethics. The one thing I’d thought Ralph had but the only thing he didn’t have.