and the force of her dark eyes. It was her eyes that had first attracted Charlotte to her.
Charlotte grinned widely as she moved closer to the car, one foot down off the curb. 'Dixie!' She bent even lower to look inside the rest of the car. Dixie was alone. 'Isn't this your brother's car?'
'I borrowed it to drive down here to the Village.'
'How come?'
'To see the woman I love.'
'That would be me?'
'That would be you, sweetheart. Hop in.'
'Why? Where we going?'
'Get in and I'll tell you.'
No reason not to. Charlotte moved back so she wouldn't block the big door from opening, then lowered herself into the car.
The interior was cool. An air freshener attached by a suction cup to the windshield emitted a faint lilac scent that seemed to overlay some other, more acrid odor. The upholstery was soft leather and felt almost like velvet beneath Charlotte's exploring touch. Nice. As soon as she pulled the door closed, the car was filled with silence. She felt isolated but comfortable and cozy, being in here with Dixie.
'This some kind of surprise?' she asked.
'In a way it is. We're going to my brother Don's.'
'Oh.' Charlotte realized she'd sounded disappointed and regretted it. She didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. 'I mean, how nice! But how come?'
'He's home today and we were talking on the phone, and he said he wanted to meet you. Said you looked like a nice person.'
'Is that why he wants to meet me? Because I look nice?'
Dixie gave her a sideways glance and pulled the car smoothly away from the curb. 'He's interested. He figures you're my significant other.'
Charlotte laughed. 'I was afraid he might be interested in another way.'
'Not Don. We know all about each other. He understands.' Dixie braked the big car hard to avoid a cab making a wide turn. She glanced again at Charlotte. 'Buckle up, hon.'
Charlotte did as she was told. 'Am I?' she asked.
'Are you what?'
'Significant to you.'
Dixie smiled and ran the fingertips of her right hand along the inside of Charlotte's left thigh. Charlotte's body stiffened and she caught her breath.
'You have no idea,' Gloria said.
31
Jill deliberated for hours. Finally she returned to the phone and called the precinct house nearest her address. They didn't know what she was talking about at first. Then they tried to convince her that if she had valuable information it wasn't necessary to talk to a particular officer. She told them patiently that she'd talk only to Quinn. It occurred to her that they might be tracing the call, but that was okay. She'd decided on her course and didn't care.
At last someone gave her the number to call to talk to Quinn. A detective named Fedderman told her that he'd be glad to help her, that Quinn wasn't available. Again she insisted on Quinn and only Quinn. Finally, maybe because Fedderman heard the desperation in her voice, he relented. He told her to hold and he'd put her through.
There was no unmemorable background music, only a series of clicks and buzzes as her call was patched through to yet another number.
A voice said, 'Quinn,' and the connection was made.
Charlotte was surprised when Dixie slowed the big Chrysler to a stop. They waited while a sectioned overhead steel door rumbled and clanked as it rolled up in front of them. She looked over at Dixie, who smiled reassuringly, as the door reached full open position and the long black car eased into what the dimness soon revealed to be a garage. Charlotte heard the steel door rattle closed behind them.
'Don's garage,' Dixie explained.
Charlotte nodded. She hadn't been paying much attention, but it didn't seem to her that the garage was large enough to be part of a much larger building that would contain apartments. Of course, Don might live in one of those prewar brick or brownstone homes converted into apartments. Or it might be a rented garage; there must be plenty of them in Manhattan, considering the scarcity of parking spaces.
She felt better when a wooden walk-through door on the back wall of the garage opened and Don entered. He was wearing faded jeans and a gray T-shirt that might at one time have said METS. He was also carrying a white cardboard box.
As Dixie climbed out of the car on the driver's side, Charlotte opened her door. She heard Dixie say, 'Hi,' to Don, then, 'See what I've brought.' As if Charlotte was a pleasant surprise. But Don didn't seem surprised.
Charlotte got all the way out of the car and closed the door behind her. She thought she heard the electronic whisper of the doors locking. The garage smelled of gasoline and oil and something she couldn't identify. Heat rolled out on her ankles from beneath the car.
Don looked over at Charlotte and winked. 'Hi, Charlotte.' He placed the cardboard box on the floor, wiped his palms on the thighs of his jeans, and walked over to her. He was smiling. Charlotte thought he was going to offer his hand to shake. Instead he punched her hard in the stomach.
All the air whooshed out of Charlotte's lungs and she slumped forward. Didn't fall, though, because Dixie had walked around the back of the car and was there to catch her with her arms around her midsection just beneath her breasts.
Close to her ear, Charlotte heard her ask Don, 'Bring everything?'
'Everything you wanted. This was your idea.'
Charlotte's body wanted to draw into a tight curl. Her feet rose off the floor. But Dixie was strong and held her firmly enough so she didn't fall. She was hanging there in the air with her legs pulled up almost in a fetal position.
The vacuum in Charlotte seemed to be drawing every part of her toward it. Her head was bowed. She couldn't raise it as she tried futilely to suck in air. She saw that the garage floor was covered with something. A plastic drop cloth. She also saw that Don was wearing loose green booties of some sort, the kind doctors wore in operating rooms or other sterile environments. He reached into the cardboard box and pulled out a green surgical smock. It took him less than a minute to slip it on over his clothes, complete with cap. His movements were all very smooth and practiced, as if he'd done this many times before. He snapped on latex gloves with the same expertise.
Charlotte's heart was about to burst. She worked harder to suck in precious oxygen, and this time managed a quick, sharp intake of breath. A rasping sob.
'She'll be able to scream soon,' Dixie said.
'Can't have that,' Don said.
He bent down, got a thick roll of gray duct tape from the box, and walked over to stand in front of Charlotte. He reeled out about two feet of tape and ripped it off the role. Charlotte felt Dixie tighten her grip and shift one arm so her hand was cupping Charlotte's chin. She raised Charlotte's head and Don quickly slapped the tape over Charlotte's gaping mouth and wrapped it around her cheeks and neck, even her hair. He pulled out more tape and wound it tightly so she couldn't breathe in or out through her mouth, couldn't utter a sound. Then he stepped back and surveyed his work without really looking at Charlotte as a person. That more than anything scared her.
What will they do to me if I'm not human anymore?
'She won't suffocate, will she?' Don asked.
'She's breathing through her nose,' Dixie said.
