Mallory had never ventured into this part of Seattle after dark. Respectable people avoided the area once dusk fell. Even driving through here with the car doors unlocked could be risky. The sidewalks weren’t as crowded as she had expected, but because the people seemed intimidating to her, she felt as though she was walking through a solid wall of humanity, bums, drug pushers, runaways, streetwalkers. There was no light in their faces, no hope. Life was a struggle to survive and if you got in their way, they would walk over you.
When Mac stepped into a grimy tavern to buy a pack of cigarettes, his hissed order “stick tight” was one she hastened to obey. Some of the men standing under the flashing neon sign outside of the establishment were staring at her as though she was an all-you-can-eat special. She didn’t know if it was her appearance that appealed—she found that hard to believe—or if she looked as though she might have money.
“Hey, bro,” Mac said to the barkeep. “I’m lookin’ for Corrine. She been around?”
“I ain’t seen nothin’,” the man snarled, his brown eyes gleaming with hostility as they fastened on Mallory.
Mac tossed his quarter of change into the air, palmed it and slapped it on the bar. “Tell her I’m lookin’ for her.”
“I’ll tell her if I see her, Mac.” The bartender, who seemed to know Mac well, took the quarter and tossed it into a jar of coins, muttering something under his breath that cast serious doubts upon both Mac’s generosity and his legitimacy.
“Guilty on both counts,” Mac called over his shoulder.
The bartender guffawed and rubbed his sizable paunch. Walking past the occupied bar stools, Mallory noticed that the men and women patronizing the establishment looked at her as if she was a cockroach in the center of a banquet table. Were these the kind of people that Emily was being held by? People who whiled away their lives staring at rows of bottles?
Mallory doubled her hands into fists and dug her nails into her palms, picturing her daughter’s guileless brown eyes.
“I didn’t think you smoked,” she said to Mac as they emerged from the bar. I can’t think about Em. I have to keep my perspective, stay calm. Tears burned in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to keep them from falling.
“Chameleon, remember? I don’t inhale.” He dipped his head toward his cupped palms to light the cigarette. As he straightened, a purple-haired youth dressed in skintight black leather veered in Mallory’s direction. Mallory’s face flamed when he directed an insolent look at her breasts. Mac draped one arm over her shoulders, his face settling in harsh lines. Snuffing the match with his fingers, he met the kid’s gaze. It was an unspoken challenge. The younger man turned sharply away.
Glancing down at her, Mac said, “I’ll say this for him, he’s got good taste.”
Mallory tried to smile and failed. The vision of Em’s face still floated in the back of her mind. “Do you think she’s down here? With men like these?”
Mac placed his hand on her hair and threaded his fingers to her scalp, his touch warm and soothing as he traced circles above her ear. “I don’t know, Mallory. We just have to pray that whoever has her is a decent person. There are some down here, you know. A lot of them.”
“I’ve never told her about the really ugly things that can happen to little girls. The closest I ever came was warning her not to talk to strangers. I didn’t prepare her for anything like this.”
“She’ll be okay, Mallory. Think positive, hmm?” His eyes met hers and, imagination or no, it seemed to her that some of his strength flowed into her. He placed the cigarette in his mouth to free his other hand, then smoothed the wetness from her eyelashes. His eyes narrowed against the trailing smoke, and the lines that bracketed his mouth deepened as his lips tightened on the filter. Dropping his arm back to her shoulders, he drew her close. Glancing around them, he said, “Not getting fresh, just don’t want anyone deciding you look lonesome.”
When they first began to walk, her hip bumped against his thigh, but they quickly fell into a rhythm. She slipped an arm around his waist. “Not getting fresh,” she said. “Just don’t want to look lonesome.”
He chuckled.
A drunk staggered toward them. Mac swerved to avoid a collision, but not in time. The man bumped her shoulder and would have sent her reeling if not for Mac’s steadying arm. She swallowed, her throat parchment dry. She looped her shaky fingers under Mac’s wide belt and moved even closer to him. Being an unattached female down here was clearly not wise. Mac struck off down the sidewalk again. His hand curled warmly around her upper arm, his fingers making light circles on her sleeve. That absentminded caress was the only sign he gave that he was even aware of her. When she looked up at him, she noticed that his face had assumed the harsh and unreadable expression she had seen before, the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth as if it were a permanent fixture.
A young girl sidled up to them. She jutted out a hip, her denim-clad leg brushing Mac’s as she flashed him a smile. “Hey, honey, ditch Goldilocks and I’ll show you a good time.”
Mac’s arm tightened around Mallory as he sidestepped the girl and continued walking.
Shock coursed through Mallory. “She’s not that much older than Emily. Thirteen, fourteen, maybe?”
“They grow up fast down here. And as much as you might want to, as hard as you might try, you can’t rescue all of them.”
From his tone, Mallory knew he had learned that lesson the hard way. The longer she knew this man, the more she liked him. Liked? She pressed closer to the lean hardness of his body. No, what she felt for Mac had already gone far beyond mere liking. The feeling had sort of snuck up on her. She wasn’t quite ready to pin a name on it. Her practical side, which was and always had been dominant, told her she hadn’t known him long enough to feel anything for him. Was it gratitude? Desperation? Those were possibilities she couldn’t ignore. Mac was her one and only hope when it came to saving Emily. Mallory sighed. What did it matter? The feeling was there, nonetheless, waiting to be faced, a one-way street to heartache. Even if Mac could forgive the fact that she had been Bettina’s friend, he was never likely to forget it. Randy had been his brother, after all.
His gaze shifted back and forth, taking in every person, checking every dark doorway. “The boys should be down this way someplace. As soon as we meet them, I need to find Corrine.”
“Who is she?”
“An old school chum. She’s worked the streets for over twenty years. Started at about the same age as the girl back there. Has her own stable now. I hope she still runs a string down here. From what I’ve heard, the big money is made out by the airport.”
“A stable?” The question no sooner left her lips than she knew what he meant. Em was so much in her thoughts that Mallory’s brain seemed to be functioning at half capacity.
Mac took a drag on the cigarette and squinted as smoke drifted from the corner of his mouth uninhaled and got into his eyes. “Corrine’s got more connections than the governor. If anyone knows who works for Lucetti, it’s her. The problem will be finding her. She doesn’t work herself anymore, just manages her girls. And she doesn’t go for rough stuff. If someone wants to quit or move on to greener pastures, she doesn’t get nasty. Lucetti, unfortunately, doesn’t deal that way. She hates his guts, which is why I figure we can count on her for information.”
Mallory bit her lip. They were going to comb the streets looking for a woman who supported herself managing prostitutes? For a moment, she felt appalled. Then she shoved the feeling aside. She didn’t care who Corrine was or what she did for a living, not if she could help them find Emily.
“Hey, Coach!” someone yelled.
Mac stopped walking and pivoted on his heel. His change of direction was so sudden that Mallory lost her hold on his belt and fell out of step, dislodging his arm from around her. Four teenage boys converged on them. Mallory, who was following closely on Mac’s heels, took one glance at the youths and faltered. They looked as rough as dirt roads after a torrential winter rain. Mac greeted them with a ritualistic bumping of elbows and clapping of palms. Then, as if he missed the weight of her hand at his waist, he turned to look for her.
Feeling intimidated, just as he had predicted she might, Mallory was hesitant to join them. Mac held out a hand to her. When she walked over to him, he put his arm around her. She groped for a hold on his belt, acutely aware that she was being looked over by four pairs of impenetrable eyes, two sets of blue, one of green and one as black as obsidian.
The boy with the black eyes appeared to be the oldest, a tall young man of Indian or Spanish descent with shoulder-length ebony hair. He regarded her with an almost contemptuous curiosity, his youthful and extremely handsome face cast in light, and then in shadow by the bar’s neon sign that flashed on and off above him. A thin scar angled across his right cheek. From a knife fight, possibly? A length of chain dangled from the hip pocket of his tattered blue jeans, and the handle of what she guessed was a switchblade protruded from his waistband. Unlike Mac’s, his wristbands were adorned with sharp little spikes.
With a snort of anger, Mac plucked the boy’s knife from his waistband and hefted it in his hand. “What’s this, Danno? You know what will happen if you guys are caught packing blades. You don’t run the streets anymore.”
“You said it might be dangerous. We came prepared.”
Mac held out his hand. “No way. Hand them over.” He snapped his fingers at the other boys.
“Coach!” Danno cried. “Do you know how much those switchblades cost me? We walked ten blocks one way to get them.”
“Next time, you won’t buy them, then, will you? When I said it might get dangerous, I didn’t mean it as a call to arms. I just thought I should level with you. Besides, the danger will most likely be to me. You can’t violate your probation. You know better. Come on.”
With sullen glowers, all four boys handed over their knives. Mac tossed them into a nearby trash receptacle. When he returned, he inclined his head toward her.
“Danno, I’d like you to meet Mallory Christiani.”
Danno shifted his unreadable black eyes to her. After a tension-laden moment, he extended his hand. Just as hesitantly, she placed uncertain fingers across his palm. His grasp was loose and noncommittal but warm. She tried to smile with stiff lips, then forced herself to meet his gaze. With a shock, she realized he was afraid, afraid of being rejected. The realization made her heart catch. He was too young to be so bitter and suspicious. Mallory’s smile relaxed and spread across her mouth. “I’m pleased to meet you, Danno.”
The obsidian glassiness left his eyes, revealing a vulnerability that disarmed her. His mouth tipped into a crooked grin. Glancing at Mac he said, “Hey, Coach, she’s choice.”
The next boy, Mark, was a scruffy redhead with freckles, which made him seem a tad less ominous. Mallory shook hands with him and suffered through being referred to as sweet, another term she knew was popular with teenagers. Then she was introduced to Eric and Toby, blue-eyed with shaggy brown hair, on the shy side of fifteen. Toby pumped her arm up and down with so much enthusiasm that her shoulder felt as if it might become dislocated.
“Mark and Danno are college boys this year,” Mac informed her. The pride in his voice made the boys stand taller.
Danno smiled and arched his bushy black eyebrows. “So what’s up, Coach?”
“I’ve got to do a little street work tonight. When I have to leave Mallory, I need you guys to watch over her.”
Danno threw Mallory a curious look. “She in trouble?”
Mac quickly briefed him. “I want you out from under the lights, staying low. Think you can handle it? I don’t want her getting hurt, and you’re the only friends I can completely trust to watch out for her. I won’t color it. These creeps on our tails mean business. My Volvo got blown to smithereens this afternoon. We’ve been shot at. Just being in the same vicinity with us could be bad for the health.”
“If there’s anything we’re good at, it’s gotta be blending in.” Danno grinned and slid his dark gaze toward Mallory again. She was beginning to suspect he had practiced that crooked smile for hours, perfecting the lazy, careless twist of his lips so it had just the right effect. The way he stood somehow reminded her of Mac, his hands shoved into his pockets, his shoulders slouched, one hip angled outward. “I’m real sorry about your little girl. All of us are.”
Not trusting herself to speak, Mallory merely nodded. She fell into step beside Mac as he struck off down the sidewalk, the four boys flanking them. She noticed that oncoming pedestrians, rather than walk through their number, preferred to spill into the street and brave the traffic, which was considerable. The first time it happened, she wondered why. Then she remembered who she was walking with. If she had met these four boys on a sidewalk, she would have taken her chances in the street, too. And now that she came to think of it, Mac didn’t exactly look like the kid next door.
Within the safe circle of his arm, Mallory absorbed the sights and sounds around her. Though it was night, the city seemed bright and glaring to her. She found herself searching every face and wondering if that person knew where Em was. Pain swelled within her. A few hours, that was all they had left. Every step they took measured off a second, the seconds accumulated into minutes, minutes into hours, taking them closer and closer to deadline.
“Try not to think about it,” Mac whispered.
Taken off guard, Mallory threw her head up and stared at him, wondering how he had known. “It’s hard not to.”
“Think about the welcome-home party we’ll throw for her. I have a friend who’s a clown.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, me!” Toby interrupted.
Mac smiled. “What’s her favorite cake?”
“Chocolate.” Leaning her shoulder against his side, Mallory took a deep breath. Visions of Em at home drifted through her mind, and the frantic feeling inside her slowly subsided. She was lucky to have Mac on her side, she thought. So lucky.
As they walked, the boys relaxed enough in her presence to talk among themselves, including Mac in their teasing banter. Mallory deduced from their conversation that they were on Mac’s baseball team, which he had begun coaching several years ago, volunteering his time to an organization for underprivileged, delinquent boys who were thought to be still redeemable. Now she understood why Mac had been so hesitant to discuss the area of Seattle he had grown up in. She also discovered why Mac’s end tables didn’t match. He was paying for Danno’s and Mark’s tuition at the University of Washington. Little wonder he drove an old clunker Volvo.
Danno’s major was going to be law. Mallory had trouble picturing him in a suit, sitting behind a desk like Keith’s. Mark proudly announced he planned to be an accountant. Just when Mallory was beginning to be impressed, Mac winked at her and said Mark already had a job lined up keeping books for the local fence. Mark roared with laughter, then skipped back, doing the elbow bumping thing with Danno.
Watching them, Mallory could see why Mac would fork out thousands of dollars for their education. They were just kids like any others, no matter how they came across when you first met them. Had Mac been a Mark or Danno once? She suspected he had. Glancing at the surrounding throngs of humanity, she could even see why all five of them worked so hard at looking mean. Down here, the weak weren’t going to inherit much of anything. A kick in the teeth, maybe.
That thought brought Mallory full circle, back to worrying about Emily. On the upper floors of some of the taller buildings, there were low-rent apartments, their grimy windows mirrored by the lights below. Was Em up there someplace? Was she gazing down, even now, hungry and afraid? Could she see them? Mallory’s steps faltered but Mac hauled her relentlessly forward.
They walked several blocks, until they reached a cluster of even taller buildings with graffiti on the exteriors. As they wove in and out of the throngs of people, Mac became watchful, his eyes scanning the women who advertised their wares curbside to passing men in swank cars. Every half block or so, he left Mallory in a shadowed doorway with the boys while he approached one of the girls, slipping her money as he asked her questions. Each time, he came back looking discouraged.
They finally came upon a young woman who whispered something when Mac slipped her some money. Mac thanked her and returned to them. “Pay dirt,” he said, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “Hey, Danno, do you know of a new—” Breaking off, Mac threw a glance at Mallory. “A new house around here?”
“Over two blocks. Why?”
“Corrine’s set up there.”
Danno’s grin vanished. “The redhead?”
Mac nodded. “Lead the way. We’ll follow.”
Danno clearly found this to be an unacceptable turn of events, but he finally shrugged and struck off down the sidewalk. A few minutes later, he pulled up and glared at Mac over his shoulder. “This is it.”
Once more, Mac left Mallory standing on the sidewalk with four grim-faced boys. He went inside a large, run-down house. A quarter of an hour later, he emerged from the building, reclaimed Mallory and lifted an eyebrow at a glaring Danno. “I have to go back downtown and find a fellow called Chapin.”
Danno planted his hands on his hips and jutted out his chin. “What’s up, Coach? You flipped or what? First we come here. Now we’re going to find Chapin? He’s a pim—”
“I know what he is,” Mac cut in. “We don’t need it spelled out.”
Danno stood there, head cocked to one side, questions shining in his eyes. “You’re always preaching to us about avoiding trouble and now you—”
“Danno, trust me,” Mac said, reaching out to grip his shoulder reassuringly. “I wouldn’t talk to him if I didn’t have to.”
By the time they had walked clear back downtown, exhaustion was beginning to take its toll. Mallory had had little sleep for days, and it was starting to show.
Mac approached a young woman dressed all in red. Money changed hands and with a slight nod, she indicated a man up the block.
“Thanks.” Whirling, Mac walked back to them, giving Danno a thumbs-up. “If something goes wrong, Danno, take her straight to Shelby.” Mac’s eyes locked with Mallory’s. “You remember our deal? Stick to Danno. He’ll take care of you.”
Mallory grabbed his jacket sleeve. “What do you mean, if something goes wrong?”
He tried to pry her fingers loose and flashed her an unconvincing grin.
Panic flooded her. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized just how dangerous this might become for him. It wasn’t his fight. “No! Mac, wait. If it’s that dangerous, let me go.”
Mac cradled her face between his hands. “Mallory, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ve done this a hundred times.”
“But never to get information about someone like Lucetti. This is just as much out of your league as it is for Shelby, isn’t it?” It seemed to her that his hands pressed harder against her cheeks. “Answer me! You could be killed, couldn’t you? For asking questions about him? I—I don’t want you hurt. Em’s my daughter. It should be my risk. Keith wouldn’t expect you to do this.” His face started to swim, and she realized she was looking at him through tears. She struggled to keep her voice firm. “Let me do it. All you’d have to do is point him out and I’d—”
He was looking down at her as if he had never really seen her before. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Well, of cour—”
Her words were smothered midstream by his fingers on her lips. His eyes seemed to look down into hers and see forever. Then he released her. Stepping back, he pried her hand from his sleeve. “If I get hurt, it’ll be my own fault for having insisted on going,” he said softly, echoing what she had said earlier when he had been afraid to bring her along. “Besides, I intend to come back. I have an important date to keep, remember? Watching cartoons and eating Pop-Tarts with two beautiful ladies. Now do like you promised me, Mallory, and stay with Danno.”
With that, he slipped away through the crowd, leaving her with the boys. She watched his bobbing blond head. About a quarter block north of them, he approached a man wearing black slacks and a vest over a leopard-patterned silk shirt. Mallory glanced at her companions. They were all four staring at her.
Danno motioned for her to follow him back to the darkened doorway. She fell in beside him. “If something happens to him, I—” She gulped and made a helpless gesture with her hands.
“Nothin’ll happen. The coach is too slippery.” He drew her deeper into the shadows. “You watch. He’ll be back before you know it.”
Eric and Toby stood guard, one on each side of the doorway. Mark joined Danno and Mallory in the darkness and reached inside his jacket for a pack of cigarettes. He lit up and took a quick succession of drags, keeping an eye out for Mac.
“The coach will snatch you baldheaded if he catches you,” Danno warned him. “You’re on your honor to quit.”
“I’m tryin’,” Mark snarled. “Give me a break.” When the cigarette was about half gone, his gaze fastened on something beyond the crowd. He quickly tossed the cigarette. “Whoa, Danno, look sharp. We got trouble.”
Danno stepped from the shadows to see. Mallory followed. Standing on tiptoe, she saw Mac grab the man in the leopard-patterned shirt by the front of his vest, lift him off his feet and slam him against the cement wall of the building.
Danno stiffened. “Uh-oh, he’s got company comin’.”
Mallory’s stomach dropped. The people who had gathered around Mac fell back to let a flamboyantly dressed man get through. She saw metal shimmer. Mac threw the man in leopard print onto the sidewalk and whirled, leaping back just in time to avoid a flashing arc as the newcomer swung a knife at him.
“Whoa...” Danno started forward, then turned to look at Mallory. Their eyes met in silent communication. She nodded encouragingly. Grabbing Eric by the sleeve, Danno shoved the younger boy toward her. “Eric, Toby, you guys make like her shadow. The coach needs help.”
Eric did a nervous little jig on the sidewalk, jumping to see what was happening. Toby, who was even shorter, grabbed his friend’s shoulders and bounced around behind him, his chin lifted. “Oh, man. They got blades! I knew we were gonna need ours. The coach is such a priss sometimes.”
Mallory craned her neck. Danno and Mark were running at breakneck speed, turning sideways and shoving their way through the throngs, their long hair flying behind them. Mac was now surrounded by three men, the man in leopard print and two others. Jumping into the air, Mac delivered a kick to one man’s chest. As he landed, he did a backswing and caught another guy with a stunning blow to the side of his head. The third man slashed with his knife and connected with Mac’s side. Mallory clamped a hand over her mouth. Before she realized it, she was running along the sidewalk, Eric and Toby right beside her.
She saw Danno break through the crowd that had gathered to watch the fight. He leaped into the fray, whipping his chain from his jeans as he landed beside Mac. The chain seemed to come alive in Danno’s hand, snaking through the air to pluck the knife from one man’s fingers. The weapon no sooner clattered onto the cement than Danno spun and whacked another man in the temple. Mac took advantage of the confusion and let fly with another kick to one fellow’s chest. After delivering that blow, he followed up with a fist to the man’s unguarded midriff. Mark hurtled through the crowd at that point, evening up the odds. The confrontation was over in short order. The two men who had attacked Mac from behind disappeared among the spectators, leaving the man in the leopard-skin patterned shirt alone.
Mac grabbed the man’s vest again and shoved him against the building, planting his fist in his midsection. The man grunted under the force of the blow and expelled his air in a gush. “Now start talkin’, mister,” Mac hissed. Drawing his gun from under his jacket, he pressed its nose against the man’s ribs.
Danno and Mark flanked Mac and stood guard to make sure no one interfered. Danno wrapped his length of chain around his arm, prepared to use it as a weapon again if anyone stepped forward. Mallory elbowed her way through the crowd, then stopped, caught up in the breathless tension. A chill slithered over her skin as she glanced at the faces around her. There was a sick eagerness in the air, so thick she could have scooped it with a spoon. They wanted Mac to kill the man, were hoping he would. Especially the prostitutes. From the hatred gleaming in their eyes, Mallory suspected they would have liked to rip Chapin apart. She couldn’t blame them. Looking at him, Mallory felt the same primal thirst for revenge. Chapin might not have been directly involved in Emily’s abduction, but he was still an associate of Lucetti’s. That gave her cause enough to hate him.
Chapin started to shake. “Miles is dead, bro. That’s all I know.”
“How did Lucetti figure into it?”
The man rolled his eyes toward the gun. His larynx bobbed and he cried, “He’ll have me killed if I say. Give me a break, man, please.”
“Talk!” Mac gave him a threatening shove with the gun.
“Lucetti had three of his goons waste him. Miles was gonna double-cross him. That’s all I know. I swear it.”
“How was Miles gonna cross him?”
“I—Lucetti killed somebody, some professional fellow. Miles found out about the killing! I don’t know all the details. All I know is Lucetti got wind that Miles had gone sour on him.”
“And how did Miles fit into the organization?”
“I—I think he kept the books. Yeah, that was it. He kept the books. The head accountant.”
“Where can I find Lucetti?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’d better tell me, friend, or I’ll blow a hole in you the size of a baseball diamond.”
“I—I don’t know. I’d tell you if I knew. I would. I never see Lucetti, just the guy under him. I swear it.”
“And who is that?”
“Andrews, Jake Andrews. You can find him at Longacres on the weekends. He likes to bet on the horses. Otherwise, I don’t know. That’s where I always meet him.”
“Okay. What about the three men who wasted Miles? What were their names?”
“I—I don’t know. One was a guy named Fields, I think. They work together—on the financial end—collecting I think. I’m not sure, man. I’m not lyin’. I’m just not sure.”
Apparently satisfied, Mac released his grip on the man’s vest. The boys backed off and continued to check out the crowd. Mac ran his hand down over his eyes, blinked, then gave his head a shake as if to clear it. He spotted Mallory then and moved toward her, Danno and Mark closing in behind him. The moment he reached her, Mac seized her arm.
“We have to get out of here,” he growled, pulling her forward into a run.
Mallory knew that Mac was afraid the other two men had gone for help. As they sprinted up the sidewalk, the boys fell in around them. The pounding of their feet on the cement seemed deafening as they took the corner and headed east.
“Mac, are you cut?” she asked breathlessly.
“Just my jacket. Miles. I knew I recognized that name!”
“What d’you mean?” she panted.
“Dead, he’s dead. I read about it in the paper right before I left town. They found his body in an alley. Beaten to death.”
Jerking her half off her feet, Mac took a sudden left turn down a dark alley. When Mallory saw the looming swath of blackness ahead, she nearly balked. If the streets were dangerous, a dark alley like this was suicidal. Then she remembered who she was running with and decided they were probably at home in dark alleys.
They spilled out at the other end of the alley onto a street that intersected with the block they had just fled. Cutting through traffic, ignoring the many screeching brakes, they picked up the alley again on the other side. Mallory lost all sense of direction. Mac was circling, backtracking to throw pursuers off their trail. It seemed to her they ran for hours. She reached the point of exhaustion and passed beyond it into blessed numbness. She couldn’t feel her legs, couldn’t tell if her sides were still aching. But she was keeping up.
When Mac drew up beside the white BMW, she fell across the front fender and labored for air. It was some comfort that Danno looked like a blob of jelly beside her, his mouth gaping as he fought to breathe. Mark leaned against the building and slid down it to sit on the sidewalk. Holding his belly with one arm, he groaned and started coughing.
“That’s what cigarettes do for you,” Mac said with a growl as he unlocked the passenger door of the car. “Come on, pile in. I want to get out of here.”
Mallory skirted the open door on quivery legs, so weak she felt as though she might collapse before she made it onto the seat. Danno boosted her in by placing a hand on her back. He slid in beside her and sank low, throwing his head back and gulping for air. The other three boys climbed in back. After Mac got in, he gave everyone a quick once-over, then cranked the engine. “Everybody in one piece?”
“Yeah,” Danno assured him. “Fine, Coach.”
“Good, that means I can wring all your necks. I thought I told you to stick with Mallory?” He swerved the car out onto the street. “What did you think you were doing, Danno? You could’ve been killed. Or what if the cops had come? Assault with a deadly weapon? I asked you not to carry chains anymore.”
“Sorry, Coach. We’ll trash them, I promise.” He took several deep breaths and swallowed. “Tomorrow. We’ll do it tomorrow. Right, Mark? I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Sorry wouldn’t comfort your mother much if you ended up hurt! That wasn’t a game out there. Those guys were trying to kill me. And what about Mallory? How would you have felt if you’d gone back and found her with her throat slit?”
Eric leaned forward to peer over the seat. “Coach, Danno didn’t leave the broad alone. I stayed with her.”
Mac reached back and smacked Eric’s forehead with the heel of his hand. It was more an affectionate thump than a reprimand. “Apologize, idiot. You don’t call women broads.”
“Why not? I’ve heard you—”
“Er-rr-ic! Just apologize, please.”
“Sorry.”
Mallory closed her eyes. “Apology accepted.” Glancing at Mac, she said, “And it was my fault Danno left me. I could have stopped him.”
“I’ll wring your neck, too, then. If I get into a spot, I don’t want the diaper brigade coming to help.” Glaring into the rearview mirror, he said, “I’m trying to get you guys straightened out, not killed. A serious offense for any of you and it’s going on your permanent records. End of career. Is that what you want, Mark?”
“I’m nineteen,” Danno protested. “That’s not exactly the diaper brigade. You were fighting in Vietnam when you were younger than me.”
“Just old enough to go to trial as an adult, that’s what you are. No more juvenile hall and a slap on the wrist for you, Danno. You do realize that an attorney can’t be a convicted felon? You keep your nose clean, understand?”
“I have! I’ve been so straight, my back aches!” Danno jackknifed forward so he could see around Mallory. “You were in trouble. What was I supposed to do? Let them cut you to pieces? You wouldn’t have deserted me, law or no law.”
Mac took a right turn and pulled the car up next to a curb. Mallory peered out the window at a two-story Victorian row house that had been converted into apartments. Many of the windows were patched with cardboard. Trash was strewn across the porch and small yard. Dim lights shone through tattered curtains.
“Danno, I’m counting on you to keep these yahoos off the streets tonight. Got it? Those guys might recognize you.”
“Consider it done,” Danno replied sullenly.
“Coach...” Mark’s voice sounded strangely off-key. “Coach, I think maybe I’m bleeding.”
Even in the dim light, Mallory saw the color wash from Mac’s face. He twisted in the seat. “You’re what?”
Mallory had seen Mac scared a number of times, but never had she seen such stark terror in his expression. He loved these boys as much as he would his own. She could feel his body going taut. Struggling for room to turn around and battling a suddenly writhing ball of frightened boys, Mallory at last managed to get on her knees so she could look over the seat. “Open your door, Danno,” she said crisply as she reached for Mark’s uplifted arm. “I can’t see anything in the dark. Mac, give me some room.”
The cool authority in Mallory’s voice brought Mac’s head around. The dome light flickered on. A little amazed, Mac did as she said and scooted aside, watching as she gently slipped Mark’s jacket off his shoulder and freed his arm from the sleeve. “Don’t look so scared, Mark,” she said with a grin. “If it was serious, you would be pumped dry by now.” She turned his arm to examine a long slash that ran from his elbow toward his wrist. Placing a thumb on each side, she pulled at the edges of the wound. “It’ll hurt like the devil, but it’s not going to need stitches. Hardly more than a scratch. You were lucky.”
Mac realized he was shaking. The calm in Mallory’s voice soothed him like a balm. Passing a hand over his eyes, he let out a breath of pent-up air. Some of Mark’s color was returning. The boy grinned. “Yeah, I figured it was nothing.”
Danno laughed. “Which explains why he’s green. Admit it, Mark, you thought you’d got it bad.”
“Well...” Mark’s voice rang with anger. “I couldn’t feel anything. When it doesn’t hurt, it’s usually real deep.”
Mallory gave his shoulder a pat. “I think you were just too scared to feel it. Have you had a recent tetanus shot? Good.” Turning toward Danno, she said, “I want you to disinfect it—”
“Not with Merthiolate, either,” Mark cut in.
“—and wrap it with clean gauze,” Mallory went on. “By morning, it won’t need a bandage.”
“It’s not that teeny a cut,” Mark cried. “Whatcha think you are, a doctor or something?”
“A nurse. Used to be, at any rate. Not a very good one, I admit, but I do know enough to recognize a life-threatening wound.” Mallory gave him a reassuring smile. “Trust me, Mark. It’s superficial. Your jacket got the worst of it.”
Mac’s attention snagged on what she had said. She was a nurse, but not a very good one? There was an underlying bitterness in her voice. From where he sat, watching her in action, he would have said she was top-notch. Even before she had known how serious the injury was, she had reacted with calmness and decisiveness. Which was better than he had done. She was a natural, able to instill trust in others, take control.
“I’ll take care of him,” Danno teased. “Once I finish with it, he’ll think it’s life threatening.”
The boys piled out and slammed the car doors, plunging the interior back into shadow. Mac lowered his window and reached out to collar Mark as he walked past. Drawing him toward the car, he ruffled the boy’s hair. “Thanks, my friend.” After giving him a light punch on the chin, he plucked the cigarettes out of Mark’s shirt pocket. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Coach, don’t you know how much those are a pack now?”
“Yeah, too expensive for a college kid. So quit, huh? And the next time I see you, that chain better not be in your pants. Clear? I’m serious, Mark. No weapons, period, no matter what. I have too big an investment in you.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Mac leaned his head out the window. “Hey, Danno! Come here a minute.”
Mallory sat down and leaned across the seat to roll down the window so the boy wouldn’t have to open the door. Danno braced his hands on the top of the car and bent at the waist to bring his face on a level with theirs. “Yo?”
“I owe you one,” Mac told him huskily. “If you hadn’t come along when you did, I wouldn’t be here. If I came across as ungrateful, I didn’t mean to. You saved my bacon. Thanks.”
“What goes around, comes around. It’s called a payback, Coach. I’m sorry I left your lady. It just seemed like the thing to do at the moment, you know?” Even in the dark, Danno’s teeth gleamed as his mouth slanted into the lazy grin. Extending his hand to Mallory, he said, “I hope I see more of you.”
“I’d like that.” Mallory was faintly surprised to realize that she actually meant it. She gave Danno’s hand a friendly squeeze, then dug in her purse for her business-card case. “Hold on a sec.” She found a pen and scribbled notes on the backs of two cards, signing off with her initials. Handing them to Danno, she said, “There’s one for you and one for Mark. Go to that address and tell them I sent you. You can both get on-the-job training there with fairly good pay. After school, summers. When you get your degrees, get in touch with me through Mac. I know a couple of influential people who may be interested in promising young graduates.”
“No lie? Hey, that’d be radical. Why would you want to do that?” He tipped one card toward the streetlight so he could read the print. “Attorneys at Law? Hey, it’s right downtown. Me and Mark can walk there. You sure they’ll hire us?”
“Guarantee it.” Mallory snapped her purse closed. “As for why? It’s called a payback, Danno. Thank you for all your help tonight.”
With a chuckle, Danno threw his chain on the seat beside her. “She is choice, Coach. Don’t let her get away.”
Mac bumped the horn as he pulled out into traffic. Craning her neck, Mallory watched the boys until the car rounded a corner and she could no longer see them. Turning back to Mac, she sighed. “Quite some baseball team you’ve got there.”
“They’re especially good with bats.”
She wished she could manage a smile, but it simply wasn’t in her. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes. “Now what?”
“Now we can relax until Lucetti calls in the morning. I have enough information on him to hang his—” he cleared his throat “—to hang him. Because of that he’ll have to give us the extra time we need. At least if he doesn’t want the wrong people to hear he wasted Miles and that other guy. Which I’m sure he doesn’t. Knowing his penchant for keeping his trail swept clean, he wouldn’t like the heat it would generate. Even if the cops couldn’t find him, they’d sure make a massive effort to.” Her shoulder was touching his. He glanced down at her. “Hey, you okay? You’re shaking.”
Mallory tried to smile. She wasn’t at all okay. Mac’s line of reasoning seemed sound, but that was all it was, a line of reasoning. He didn’t have an insight into the future. He couldn’t predict Lucetti’s next move with any certainty. She knew he meant to comfort her, but a new kind of terror had her in its grasp. If the man who had Emily was like Chapin, was her daughter still alive?