Chapter Eight --

 

“I don’t get you, Dunham. Why does that make you happy?” Axel had a puzzled expression on his face.

“All this time,” I confided, “I thought there was something wrong with me. I thought I did something wrong. Maybe I didn’t love Tark enough, or maybe I didn’t give him what he needed.”

“So what changed?”

“Marga dumped you.”

“And you feel the need to point this out because...?”

“There’s nothing really wrong with you, other than you sometimes step over the line of good taste.”

“Name me one time I went over the line!” he shot back. “I’m the epitome of good taste!”

“Just one?” I raised an eyebrow and Axel chuckled.

“There’s nothing wrong with you either, Kelsey. Other than you’re strong-minded and determined to put me in my place. Too bad you don’t want to put me in your place!”

“See? You just proved my point,” I laughed. “You’re incorrigible!”

“Guilty as charged. How about some lunch?” he suggested. We ordered a couple of Italian chicken melts and light caramel coolers. As the next hour passed, we seemed to get past that invisible barrier and out into the open with our conversation. It was as if we shared so much in common that neither of us had anything to fear from the other. For the first time since my divorce, I actually felt comfortable teasing a man.

“You’re a lot cuter when you smile,” Axel informed me.

“Is that right?”

“Otherwise,” he replied, taking a long sip on his straw, “you come across as really uptight.”

“I haven’t had a lot to smile about,” I acknowledged.

“I can see how the new baby’s got your panties in a bunch. I’d be pretty upset about that if I were in your shoes,” he decided.

“It’s not just that. My boss is a horse’s ass.” I went into detail about Warren’s penchant for deal-making and bridge-burning.

“You should start your own business,” Axel decided. “Why not do for others what you’re doing for Fripp?”

“Are you kidding? Warren’s a mean son of a bitch. He’ll chew me up and spit me out. All he has to do is suggest my work is less than stellar and people will think I’m trying to pass off fakes as the real thing.”

“How in the world did you get hooked up with that guy?” he wondered. I explained about Warren and Bliss Redux, about how everything changed when Mathilda left Dockersby.

“It doesn’t sound like it’s a job worth saving.”

“It’s not really, but I can’t afford to get on Warren’s bad side.”

“You could always move to New York, Kelsey. Start your life over again. There are plenty of galleries there.”

“Warren has a rather long reach,” I said sadly. “He’d find a way to sabotage my career. You should see what he’s done to other people who tried to leave.”

“Sounds like we should stick you in the Witness Protection Program,” he joked. “We’ll give you a new identity, get you hooked up with a new job.”

“If we don’t solve this drug cartel mess, I might just take you up on that.”

Twenty minutes later, as the employees of Caribou Coffee were giving us the eye for taking up space, Axel’s smartphone buzzed. It took about thirty seconds for him to complete the call. I could tell from his comments that things went well.

“Right...fantastic...absolutely...clockwork...roger that.” He gave me a big grin. “Well, Kelsey Durham, you’re a free woman. They retrieved the heroin from the trunk of your car. They took it to their waiting van, tested it, and decided it hadn’t been tampered with, so you’re off the hook. They put the gecko in your trunk. You can head out to St. Michaels.”

“Great,” I forced myself to say. A wave of sadness rolled over me and threatened to take me out with the current. “I should go to the ladies room before I hit the road.”

“Right.”

Five minutes later, Axel and I stood outside my car. I was reluctant to make my farewell. He didn’t seem to be in any rush either.

“Listen,” he said, “if you ever decide you’re ready for a change, look me up in New York. Just tell them you worked a case with me.”

“Sure,” I agreed. My chest felt tight, like I had swallowed a new heartache.

“We’ll always have Paris, kiddo,” he grinned, taking my face in his hands and kissing me on the lips, lightly at first and then with a deep, delicious hunger. I returned the passion, surprising myself with the intensity of my kisses. When we finally parted, we were both breathless.

“Damn!” Axel cursed, burying his face in his hands. “This is so wrong!”

“Why? I thought you liked me!” I felt as if I had been slapped across the face. Were my cheeks red with the fire of shame? “We’re both adults!”

“No, Kelsey! I don’t want you to go!”

“You don’t?”

“Are you kidding? I’m trying to figure out how we’re going to make this work. I have to be in New York next Wednesday. All my worldly goods are on their way to Jersey City.”

“Jersey City?”

“That’s where my new condo is. I bought a place at Port Liberté. Ten minutes to Manhattan and I’ve got a dock for my boat.”

“You have a boat?”

“Arne likes to waterski,” he explained. “And I like to fish. It’s not a big boat.”

“It’s okay. I like boats,” I laughed. “And I like to fish.”

“Now I know we have to get together. Maybe I can call you once I’m settled, and you can come up for a weekend. We’ll go into the city. We could see a show.”

“I’d like that,” I agreed. “But leave the brown contacts home. I like your real eyes.”

“Heck, with my new job I won’t be wearing any more disguises. I’ll be sitting at a desk.”

“Nice,” I grinned.

“I should let you go. I wouldn’t want Warren to split a gut.”

“Nor would I.” Our fingers entwined, each of us reluctant to let go of the other. For a long minute, I studied him, trying to memorize every line, every crease etched into his handsome face, afraid I might forget.

“You drive safely,” he instructed me. “Don’t take any foolish chances.”

“I promise.”

“I’ll call you when I settled in my new place.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I smiled, tracing his lips one last time with my fingertips. He opened my car door and stepped aside to let me slide in behind the wheel. My hands shook as I put the key into the ignition and turned the engine over. I backed out of the space as he leaned against his SUV. With a final wave, I drove away.

I got onto I-95, heading towards Annapolis, brushing away stray tears. A part of me was sad to be leaving Axel behind, but as I drove, my heart seemed lighter. It was as if I had finally let go of the past and I began to embrace the future, a future that included the hope of spending time with Axel. By the time I crossed the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and made it to Kent Narrows, I was singing with the radio. Just past Chester, my cell phone rang. I pulled over and answered. My assistant, Bella, wanted to know how close I was. She was in need of 100-pound picture hooks, wire, and bumpers. I promised her I would stop at Lowe’s on my way through Easton.

I pulled into the parking lot just off of Route 322. Grabbing my purse, I hurried into the store. If I didn’t waste time, I might still be able to get to St. Michaels before Warren lost what was left of his mind.

I headed down the aisles, picking up the items, and used the self-checkout. Pulling out my credit card, I paid, took my receipt, and grabbed my bag. Once through the automatic doors, the bright sun hit me full in the face. I crossed the pavement, wondering where Axel was at this very minute. Then I found myself trying to imagine what his new condo was like. I couldn’t wait to see it. I popped the remote button and unlocked Uncle Jack’s Camry.

“Chica, how nice to see you again.” I heard Hector’s voice behind me. As I turned, he flashed a knife, the long, cruel blade shining in the sunlight. “Get in.”

One look at his determined face told me that I probably was not going to survive whatever he had planned for me. I was desperate to find an out, an opportunity to escape, but Hector moved in closer. I could see the sweat bubbles forming on his upper lip. He was already imagining his moves, one by one, and salivating at his prospects.

“Don’t force me to say it again. Get in the car. We’re going for a ride.” Hector held the door open, waiting for me to comply. With a heavy sigh borne of disbelief and surrender, I inched my way past him and got behind the wheel. “Not there. Move over. I’ll drive.”

I lifted my bottom over the console and pulled my legs up to my chest before swinging them onto the floor mat. Hector, meanwhile, pushed back Uncle Jack’s seat, settling his large belly in front of the steering wheel.

“Keys!” he demanded. With great reluctance, I placed them in his outstretched right hand, mindful that his left still held the ever-present knife. He slipped the key into the ignition and turned it. The car groaned, misfired, and sputtered. Another turn of the key brought the same result.

“What did you do to it?” Hector bellowed at me. “What is wrong with the car?”

“I don’t know! It was working fine.”

“Show me!” he insisted. He slid out of the seat and waved me into it. “Hurry up!”

I was about to begin the process all over again when I caught sight of a movement in the rearview mirror. I thought someone was crouching there.

“Don’t even think about opening that door!” Hector sneered. “I’ll slit your throat before you’re out of the car. Don’t you know who I am?”

There was something in his voice that compelled me to ask. I didn’t want to know the answer, but I knew I needed it.

“Who are you?”

“El cuchillo de caza. People call me ‘The Hunting Knife’. You see, chica, I am a professional assassin. I kill for a living. That is why you should be afraid of me. I know more than a hundred ways to take your life, and almost all of them are painful. How I kill you will depend on how much you please me now.”

“You want me to please you?” I couldn’t begin to imagine what that might consist of, but I knew I wasn’t going to like it.

“No, chica. You want to please me. No matter what you do, I will find my pleasure in how you die.”

A cold terror formed in the pit of my stomach, like the hard knot of a bony fist dipped in ice water. I felt it punch its way up to my throat and I wanted to expel it, but it would not release. It remained where it was, choking off my air. Gasping, my hands trembling, I took my place in the driver’s seat and turned the key. The engine coughed and sputtered, but did not recover. I tried it again, but the result was the same.

“Come on,” I urged Uncle Jack’s Camry for the third time.

“Don’t flood it!” Hector hollered at me. “Move over!”

Once again I started to clamber over the console, but as soon as I landed in the seat, the door popped open and I was yanked out unceremoniously and dumped on the ground.

“Hands on the wheel!” Axel screamed. “Where I can see them!”

I rolled out of his way as best I could, but our legs got tangled. Axel lost his balance, tumbling into the passenger seat, well within Hector’s reach. I saw the flash of the blade just before it came down on Axel’s exposed hand. The yelp of agony as the blade twisted into raw flesh cut through my psyche with a pain greater than I could endure. I don’t know what made me do it. Thirty years from now, I don’t think my memory of it will be any clearer. All I know is that one moment I was lying on the ground like some limp rag doll and the next, I was flying through the air, crossing the distance to the other side of the car, and wrapping my arms around Hector’s head, trying to make it impossible for him to continue stabbing Axel. There was only one flaw with my plan. I left myself vulnerable to the long reach of a frenzied murderer.