“I surely do thank you for all your help, Preacher. And you don’t have to worry ’bout me ever saying a word of this to anybody.”
“Same here, Brother Kezzie. When we do the Lord’s work, we don’t need to tell the devil.”
As they parted, each man to his own vehicle, Kezzie wondered what he was going to do with that failing used- car dealership.
He wished there were a way to see McKinney’s face when his jeweler friend told him that the bag contained only costume jewelry. Good-quality costume jewelry, but worth no more than five or six hundred dollars for the whole bag.
Well, a man can’t have everything, he told himself philosophically, and drove to the outlet mall, where a black Lincoln with tinted windows sat all alone at the far end of the parking lot. He stopped beside the car and waited till the man in the backseat joined him in the truck’s cab.
“Everything go okay?”
“Hook, line, and sinker,” he said. “Just got to know what bait to use.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out the diamond earrings. “And them here was better’n red wigglers or crickets. You want that used-car place? It ain’t worth much and I got no use for it.”
G. Hooks Talbert gave a sour laugh of grudging admiration. “Damn! You got that, too?”
“Yeah. I figured as long as we was scraping him clean, might as well.”
“Do what you like with it. I don’t want my name on anything connected to this.”
As Kezzie drove back through town, sirens seemed to be coming from every direction. The cars ahead were pulling over to the curb and he did the same. Two fire trucks and an ambulance went flying past and in his rearview mirror he saw several police cars weave in and out around them, all headed in the same direction.
CHAPTER 25
Choking and coughing as smoke swirled around me, my first impulse was to retreat to the bathroom again, to slam the door shut and cram the cracks around it with wet paper towels. Instead, I got as close to the floor as I could, where the smoke was slightly thinner, pulled my wet jacket away from my arm, and tied the sleeves behind my head so that my mouth and nose were covered.
The wound began to ooze blood again and smoke burned my eyes, but somehow I forced myself to crawl toward the fire, which must have begun up closer to the front. I was disoriented and couldn’t remember exactly which way I had come until I saw the trail of my blood on the concrete floor. I followed it on hands and knees. The crawl seemed to take forever, and I could feel the heat building toward me as I finally rounded the wardrobe I had cowered behind only a short time ago. Another few feet and I reached the dollhouse.
The flash drive was gone, of course, and so was my purse. I almost whimpered in fear and desperation, but as I turned to crawl back to the toilet, I caught a glimpse of the leather strap under the edge of a chest where I must have kicked it in my haste to get away from the bullets. I yanked at it and it caught on the foot.
The fire was getting ever nearer. I felt my skin drying and somewhere close by something exploded with a shower of glass that sprinkled down on me, shards catching in my hair. Every instinct screamed at me to leave it and go, but I couldn’t give up.
A lateral tug and the purse popped out. I slung the strap over my head and made like an inchworm trying to break the world speed record.
Once I was back inside the toilet with the steel door closed and my wet jacket plugging the crack at the floor, I heard sirens from outside. Someone must finally have given the alarm.
I almost dropped my phone in my haste to turn it on and push the speed dial for Dwight’s number.
He answered on the first ring and before I could speak, he yelled, “Deb’rah? Where the hell are you? Will’s warehouse is on fire and he says your car’s there.”
I told him as concisely as I could, trying not to babble hysterically, “Look for a small high window and oh, Dwight, please hurry!”
“Stay on the phone,” he said. “Don’t hang up. We’ll get you out.”
More sirens outside, and now I heard them through the phone wherever Dwight was. I could also hear him barking orders and then he was back on the line.
“We’re almost there now. I can see the warehouse.”
The front part must have been engulfed with flames by then, for I heard him groan. “Oh, my God!
I was trying not to panic but now that help was so close I was terrified that they would not get to me in time. The walls were built of concrete blocks. Built to last. Like a brick oven. And me the loaf of bread dough.
“Talk to me, Deb’rah,” he said and his voice was suddenly calm and reassuring.
“I’m scared, darling. Really scared.”
“It’s gonna be okay. I promise. We’re here. Get as far from that window as you can and turn your back. They’re gonna smash it open.”
No sooner had he said that than bits of glass showered down. I looked up and there was the face of a fireman who called to me and said, “What we’re gonna do, ma’am, is pull this wall down, so you stay back as far as you can and put this over you.”
