She and Annie raced over to one of the soaped windows, and with the sleeve of her jacket, Gwen cleared a little circle. Down on the street, two blocks away, several police vehicles were parked around the little car they’d left in the lot.
“Oh, shit,” Gwen said. With so many uniforms swarming around down there, it was hard to see what was happening, but Gwen could tell they’d managed to open the passenger door. She touched Annie’s shoulder. “Did you leave anything in there?”
Annie flinched. “My old clothes.”
“Fuck!” She slammed her hand on the windowsill. If they had a K-9 unit, the dogs would lead them right here. A moment later, she realized their fingerprints were all over that car. “Goddamn it,” she whispered, her stomach dropping. They had been stupidly careless.
Annie started pacing, her hands in her hair, muttering to herself. Gwen approached her, hands out at her sides, empty palms up. Closer, she could hear her.
“Can’t go back, can’t go back, can’t go back,” she said, sounding like she was stuck on a loop.
“Annie? Annie, stay with me, here. Don’t lose it.”
Annie’s eyes flew open, and her hands dropped from her hair. “What are we going to do? What on earth are we going to do?” Her voice was high, quavering, almost hysterical.
Gwen had to quell the urge to shake her, and she clenched her fists at her sides. “Annie, stop it. Stop it right now, or you’re going to get us caught before we even have a chance to try. Take a deep breath and calm the fuck down.”
Annie reacted as if slapped, her head snapping backward. Her face reddened and her eyes darkened. “That’s easy for you to say! You’re not looking at life in prison!”
Gwen had to bite back an angry retort. Again, she clenched her fists, fingernails biting into her palms. “You don’t know me, Annie. You know absolutely nothing about me. Maybe I don’t want to be caught, either. Ever think of that?”
Annie’s eyes darted from side to side. She licked her lips. “No, I guess not. I don’t know anything about you, except that you can steal cars.”
“Exactly.”
Some of the tension left Annie’s shoulders. She was studying Gwen’s face, seeming almost concerned now. “So what should we do?”
Gwen sighed in relief. She was being reasonable again. She walked back to the window, peering out, and then gestured for Annie to join her.
“See? They’re all still at the car. They’re going to put the net down on this neighborhood if they haven’t already, but most of them are just standing over there yakking away. Any minute, the dogs will show up, and then we’ll be in deep shit. But until then, we have the advantage since they don’t know where we are. I say we get the hell out of here and as far away as possible on foot. Some patrolmen might be walking around already, but we should be able to dodge them if we’re smart about it.”
Annie took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”
It was a little easier getting down the stairs than up, but it wasn’t quick, either, nerve-wracking in a different way. Gwen braced herself, waiting for the door to open and their exit to be cut off. By the time they were back on the ground floor, her legs were shuddering with tension and fatigue, and Annie was almost staggering. She got the flashlight out again, and the light shook with her hand.
“Let’s sit down for a second,” Gwen said, steering her over to a pile of wood. It was telling that Annie didn’t challenge her. She simply dropped onto the wood as if her legs had given out. Gwen sat down next to her, thigh flush with Annie’s on the small available surface. Annie gripped her hand, squeezing it so hard Gwen almost cried out.
“Do you think we can do it? Can we get away?”
Gwen squeezed back. “It’s worth a shot. If I didn’t think we might, I wouldn’t try. I’ll be in enough shit as it is, now—aiding and abetting, breaking and entering, grand-theft auto, evading police…”
They were silent.
“I’m sorry, Gwen,” Annie finally said, her voice quiet, pained.
“Don’t be. It’s my fault as much as yours.”
Annie still looked guilty, shoulders sagging, eyes directed at the floor. Gwen touched her chin, making her meet her eyes.
“I mean it. It’s not your fault. I knew what I was doing.”
Annie’s eyes filled with tears, and she turned away, blinking rapidly. She slid off the wood and stood up, stretching.
“I’ll make it up to you.”
Gwen stood up. “With the money?” She couldn’t help her note of mockery.
Annie’s expression was serious, her lips a thin line. “Whatever it takes.”
It was starting to grow dark now, but the heat of the day was still intense, blasting them like a furnace when they opened the back door. Gwen poked her head out, peering up and down the alley, then motioned for Annie to follow her. Without talking, they both crouched, dashing from trash heap to garbage can to debris as they ran the length of the alley, away from the police and their old car.
Ten feet from the street, Gwen motioned for Annie to wait and crept up to the edge of the nearest building, peering in both directions. She gestured for Annie to join her, and the two of them started walking down the street, again in a direction away from their car. They were entirely exposed here on the sidewalk, and Gwen could almost feel her skin shrinking in alarm, terrified someone would see them, call out to them.
“We’re sitting ducks here,” she said, almost whispering.
“I know—I’m trying to think. I used to work down here. We have to get away from this district a little. All the delis and restaurants down here are closed for the day.” She paused, frowning. “But we’re not too far from the edge of this part of town now. There’s a little neighborhood not far from here, with bars and things, but I have to remember how to get there. It’s different on foot.”
They kept walking, passing banks and insurance companies, primarily, all closed for the day. A few cars passed, each one tempting Gwen to bolt. Any of them could be an unmarked police car.
Five minutes later, they approached a bigger, busier intersection. Again, Gwen motioned for Annie to stop, still blocked by the building, and threw a quick glance up and down this busier road. More cars and people were here, but none of them, as far as she could tell, were police.
She turned back to Annie and lifted her hands. “Where to?”
Annie pointed to their right. “I know a place that way about four blocks. A bar. At least it used to be there. It’s closer than that neighborhood I mentioned earlier.” Her eyes lowered. “I’ve only been there a few times.”
She seemed strangely nervous, or maybe guilty, but Gwen chalked that up to her uncertainty. Three years was a long time—restaurants and bars closed and reopened as something new all the time. They might get there and find an empty building, or any manner of store or business. A bar, however, would be a good place to hide for a few minutes, and at least they’d be off the street. Gwen had no idea how long it would take for the dogs to find them, or if the police were even using dogs to track them. If they were, she didn’t think it would be very fast, as the dogs would be on leads with their handlers, but they needed to hurry. If the dogs and police didn’t stop and check the building they’d gone into, they would be faster. She and Annie might have as long as half an hour, if they were lucky.
“It was here,” Annie finally said, pointing down an alley.
Gwen frowned, staring that direction and not seeing anything but trashcans. “What do you mean? At the other end of the alley?”
“No—it’s right there. That black door. It’s…secret.”
“Like a speakeasy or something?”
Annie hesitated, not meeting Gwen’s eyes. “Not exactly.”
She could tell Annie was hiding something, and Gwen was losing the last threads of her patience. “What the hell is it, then?”
Annie’s face colored, and she finally met Gwen’s eyes. “It’s a gay bar.”
Gwen flinched in surprise. “Oh.”
Annie was flustered now, her face a dark, mottled red. “I wasn’t a regular or anything. I wasn’t…I mean, I only came here a few times. With a friend.”
Gwen laughed. “Sure, sure, whatever you say. So how do we get in? With some kind of password or something?”
“You knock and ask for Marge when they open the hatch. I think she used to own the place.”
“Will anyone know you in there?”
After a pause, Annie shook her head. “I don’t think so. It’s been a long time.”
Gwen stifled a laugh. “Okay. Lead the way.”
Annie knocked on the door, and after a long, breathless pause the little hatch at eye-level opened. A pair of dark eyes stared out at them, and no one said anything.
“I’m looking for Marge,” Annie said.
“She’s not here anymore,” a man said from behind the door.
Annie’s eyebrows shot up.
He laughed. “Sorry, kid. Just giving you a hard time. Any friend of Marge is a friend of ours. You two have ID?”
“Yes,” Gwen answered.
Something inside was unlatched, and then the door swung outward, making them back up a couple of steps.
“Get in here before the heat creeps in,” the man said, motioning them in. He closed and locked the door behind them, sitting down again on a stool in front of the door. Gwen had reached for her wallet to get out her ID, but he didn’t ask for it, and Annie motioned for her to follow her down a little hallway and into the bar.
The bar was dingy and dark, the walls painted a solid, deep black that made everything seem smaller, dirtier. The smell of smoke filled the air, but other than the bartender and a pair of men playing pool, they had the place to themselves. A few high-top tables stood near the pool table, and there were a couple of booths on the far wall, some arcade games, and the usual rainbow-colored neon beer advertisements above the bar. A tiny dance floor had been set up in front of an old jukebox next to a cigarette machine. It looked and smelled like almost every gay bar Gwen had ever been in, and despite the general dankness, it felt familiar. Having a locked front door between them and the police was also a bonus.
“Go sit in a booth,” Gwen said, pointing. “I’ll grab a couple of drinks. What do you want?”
“Beer’s fine.”
Gwen approached the bar, and the bartender, who had been watching a baseball game on the little TV above the bar, was clearly annoyed at the interruption. She had that same platinum-blond hair as the waitress had this morning—the kind of crisp, fried blond that killed your hair. Her face was darkly tanned, lined from the sun. She could have been the other waitress’s sister.
“Jim ask for your ID?” the woman asked, a cigarette tucked in the corner of her mouth.
He hadn’t checked them, but he’d asked, so Gwen nodded.
“What’ll you have?”
“Two beers. Whatever’s on draft.”
Gwen had guessed correctly that there was only one offering, and the woman filled two glasses clearly meant for tall cocktails, not beer. The usual bum’s rush, Gwen thought.
“Six dollars,” the woman said, turning back to the TV.
Gwen had to bite her tongue—even for a bar like this, she was clearly up-charging. Still, she threw the money and a sizable tip on the bar without complaint and took the glasses over to the booth. She set one down in front of Annie before sitting down across from her. She slipped the strap of her leather bag over her shoulder and pushed it against the wall. Annie frowned at the small glass but didn’t comment.
“Nice place,” Gwen said, taking a sip. “Wonder if we’ll get tetanus.”
Annie grinned and took a drink, grimacing soon after. She offered the glass to Gwen, and she took it. Between the two glasses, she might get an actual pint. Annie glanced around and moved closer across the table, motioning for Gwen to do the same.
“I don’t think anyone can hear us, but I can’t be certain,” she explained.
“Don’t you think we’re more conspicuous like this? Hunched over and whispering?”
Annie smiled a little wider. “Maybe—but we might seem…friendly.”
Gwen smiled in return and took one of Annie’s hands in hers. Annie started to draw it back, and then she left it there, clearly understanding what Gwen was doing. Gwen ran her thumb across the back of Annie’s hand and saw her eyebrows lift slightly. The contrast between their skin was striking, absorbing—Annie’s almost translucent with a hint of pink, hers a dusky gold, darker in here than outside.
She wrenched her eyes away and winked at Annie. “All part of the disguise.”
Annie nodded. “Listen—I’ve been thinking.” She paused, gaze shifting around the room again. The men at the pool table were wrapped up in their game, swearing and teasing each other, and the bartender was back to her baseball game. Still, Annie hunched closer, her face now inches from Gwen’s.
“I’ve been thinking about the car, wondering how the police found it so quickly.”
Gwen nodded. “I wondered the same thing. It was in that lot, what, half an hour? Forty minutes? Even if everyone in town was out looking for it, that’s really fast. I mean, there must be a hundred of that same make and model on the road, and the plates were different, too. Someone would notice if their car was stolen, but it takes a while to realize your plates have been changed.”
“Exactly. It was too quick.”
Gwen wondered how she could word what she’d say next delicately. Annie, as if reading her thoughts, nodded.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
Gwen was surprised. “You do?”
“Someone betrayed me. One of my business partners set me up.”
Gwen shrugged. “You did say someone was watching that building for you. Maybe they were waiting until you showed to call in.”
Annie nodded but then shook her head. “But why? Why help me break out, only to call me in once I’m out? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Who knew about the package in the desk? How many people, I mean?”
“Two. The woman I talked to on the phone—she was the one watching it—and the person who put it there.”
“Which one is more likely to screw you over?”
Annie didn’t hesitate. “The second—the man. I don’t trust him as much. But he’s not in town right now.”
Gwen leaned back. “It must have been her.”
Annie shook her head. “It couldn’t be. Really, it couldn’t. We planned the escape together for months. Why would she do that?”
“So she’s the main reason you’re out?”
Annie nodded. “I’d still be in prison without her.”
“There’s no one else? No one that knew?”
Annie started to shake her head and then stopped, frowning. “Well, there is one more person. As far as I know, he didn’t know about the package, but he’s…angry. He testified against me in court.” She shrugged. “But that’s pretty far-fetched, especially after all this time. He doesn’t even live in town anymore.”
“Maybe he hired a private detective,” Gwen suggested. “Do you think he knows what’s inside the envelope?”
Annie’s eyebrows shot up, and she paled slightly. “Christ. I hope not.”
“Either way, you might have to be careful using any of those IDs. He might leak the name to the police.”
Annie paled further. Gwen squeezed her hand and got up. “Let me go get you a real drink.”
She walked back to the bar, and the bartender turned at once, all smiles and warmth. The tip had done its job.
“Need something else, sugar?” The cigarette had burned down in the last few minutes, the ember almost to the woman’s lips.
Gwen jerked a thumb back in Annie’s direction. “My girlfriend’s having a bad day. Think you could make something special to cheer her up? Something sweet—like you.”
“Aren’t you a flirt, now?” the woman said, giggling. She started picking up various bottles of alcohol and poured them all together. Gwen turned around to watch the men play pool, surprised to see that several other patrons had come in while she was distracted. She glanced at her watch. Almost eight. The night crowd was starting to arrive. She and Annie would want to leave sooner rather than later. More eyes meant more people that might have seen Annie’s photo. She turned back as the bartender finished her liquid masterpiece and set it on the bar. Gwen could smell vermouth and something fruity.
“Anything else for you, hon? Another beer?”
“Whiskey, if you have it. Double. Neat.”
She paid for the overpriced drinks, once again tipping wildly, and brought them back to the booth. Annie was fiddling with a book of matches, lighting them one at a time before dropping the spent sticks into the ashtray. She took the glass of whiskey before Gwen had a chance to stop her and threw it back in one gulp.
Seeing Gwen’s face, she said, “Oh. I’m sorry. Was that red one for me?”
“It’s okay,” Gwen said, sitting down. She took a small sip of the cocktail, gagged, and pushed it away. “Tastes like cough syrup.”
Annie grabbed the glass, drained it, and then smiled. “Tastes fine to me. Anything’s good after three years.”
“No toilet gin in the joint?”
Annie laughed. “Not that I saw. I was trying to be good—maybe get early release.”
Gwen liked seeing her laugh. She liked the way the alcohol had brought a little color back to her face. This was, she thought, the first time she’d seen Annie almost relaxed, normal.
She wrenched her gaze away from her face, watching the growing crowd of men fill up the area around the bar. Most of them were very young. Some, she suspected, had gotten in based on the loose carding policy at the door. She’d benefitted from something similar when she was their age, making her first forays into places just like this. She felt Annie’s eyes on her and looked back to find her staring, a smile lifting one side of her mouth.
“What?”
Annie shrugged. “You looked, I don’t know, wistful, for a minute.”
She took Annie’s hand in hers again, not realizing she was doing it until she had. “I was remembering something.”
Annie nodded, and her eyes grew wary again. “What are we going to do, Gwen? We can’t sit in here all night.”
“I don’t think it’s safe to go back to the hotel, either.” She paused. “Don’t you know anyone in town, someone you could call? What about that woman from earlier? What did she suggest? I mean, besides killing me.”
Annie ignored the last part. “She suggested I contact an old friend of mine. A trucker. She thought maybe he could smuggle me out in his rig.”
“What’s stopping you? Afraid he won’t help?”
“No—that’s the problem. I know he will, but I don’t want to get him in trouble. Tom and I go way back. Childhood friends. Anyway, I don’t know if I should call him. I’m worried they might have tapped his phone. He was on my list of known associates.”
“They couldn’t tap his phone, could they? Is that even legal?”
“It was tapped before. They used it in court.”
“Jesus. Still, I think those rights expire or something. They wouldn’t have tapped it this whole time.”
Annie shrugged. “Maybe. Still, I can’t be sure either way. At the very least, they’re probably watching his place.”
“Could you meet him somewhere else? Like, does he go to a bar somewhere, or something? Somewhere you could run into him?”
Annie’s face lit up. “What time is it?”
“Eight fifteen.”
“And it’s Tuesday, right?”
“Yep. Still Tuesday.” The longest Tuesday in existence, she thought.
“Tom works the night shift. He’ll get to work around ten. We might be able to catch him before he heads inside.”
“What if he’s out? I mean, like out driving somewhere.”
Annie shook her head. “He won’t be. He works Tuesdays through Saturdays, back and forth from different cities up through Wyoming.”
“What if his schedule’s changed? When’s the last time you spoke?”
“Two weeks ago. He visits me at least once a month.”
“It’s worth a try.”
“I hate to think of him getting into trouble, but if we can get out of town, he won’t be in danger for more than an hour, tops.”
“Let’s go,” Gwen said, sliding out. At the last second, she remembered to grab her leather bag, her heart tripping for a moment in relief. Leaving it would have caused a major problem.
“How are we going to get there? He parks his truck way across town,” Annie said, standing up next to her. She slid her hands through her hair, those pale, loose curls catching on her fingers. Gwen had to look away, that pinched, tight feeling rising in her stomach again.
“What did you say?”
“I said how are we going to get there? Stealing a car would be…risky, wouldn’t it? With all those police nearby?”
Gwen didn’t respond, leading her by the hand through the now-crowded bar. Annie kept her head down, but no one really watched them too closely, everyone wrapped up in showing off, having a good time. The only person who seemed to focus on them briefly was the only other woman in here besides the bartender. She was an older butch, and she grinned at Gwen and lifted her chin in Annie’s direction, as if praising her choice. Gwen grinned back at her and kept going, winding through the people that towered above them.
It was a relief to be outside again. The night had already taken some of the edge off the heat. That was the nice thing about dry climates—the sun went down, and it actually cooled off in the summer.
“So?” Annie asked. “How are we going to get there?”
Gwen was about to respond when she heard her answer coming from the street. She led Annie out of the alley, spotted a bus stop, and walked over to it. The bus was still a block away.
“But we don’t know where it goes,” Annie said, peering at it like she was.
“Away from here. That’s good enough for me. We can take it a mile or two, get out, and grab a cab.”
They were still holding hands by the time the bus finally stopped for them, and Gwen reluctantly let go in order to pay. If Annie had minded the handholding, she hadn’t let on, and as they sat down together, Gwen wondered what that meant.