“I said, ‘I’ll see you there!’ ”
I tried to ask again, but on a whooshing noise of exasperation, Gudrun killed the line between us.
Back at the coffee bar, Daphne and Susan were saying their good-byes.
“Thanks for the coffee, everyone,” Daphne called.
“Totally delish,” Susan agreed. “Hey, Daph, you want to meet for dinner?”
“Sure. Where are you headed now...”
The girls separated on Hudson. Then Gardner Evans burst in to start his shift, proudly waving his new CD mix for our sound system. Nancy Kelly waved good-bye, and Tuck waved the phone again.
“Matt wants to know when he should stop by to discuss the seasonal delivery schedule.”
“Tell him to be here at two o’clock sharp,” I replied. “And tell him to bring a car.”
“A car? Why?
“Because I need to be in Queens at three. And he’s going to be my backup.”
The sun is strong today. Too strong! Too much light!
She whipped closed the window curtains, anxious to bring back the cool, shifting shadows of her underworld. Her heart was beating so fast now, her lungs laboring, her skin beading with perspiration.
Calm down, she counseled herself. You have plenty of time... plenty of time . . .
She would prepare for this event the way she always did—like a machine. First she selected her clothes. Black again . . . black for mourning, black for death . . .
Next she found the mask.
Her masks existed in many forms, but for this performance, she went to a closet and dug out the plastic kind—a copy of the one she’d used on Bay Creek’s bridge, above that snaking canal of water that carried away her old self, which spanned the distance that led to this new one.
After laying out everything on the bed, she sunk to her knees, smirking with a thought: Years ago, that woman had gone down on her knees in a bedroom, too. But not to pray . . .
With a deep breath, she lifted the mattress and groped around for the cold steel shaft. Fingers closing on hard metal, she pulled, letting the mattress fall with a muffled thud.
Feeling the weight of the weapon, she smiled. Here was something better than prayer. Here was power. The power to defend life and exact death. The power to make three women’s lives a living hell.
The same way they did for my mother . . .
She stroked the dark trigger, so cool and smooth, recalled the joy of pulling it, only once before—on her mother’s persecutor.
I showed him what premeditated really was, didn’t I?
First she’d bought the gun, so easy, just a weekend drive away. Then she’d stalked him, all the way from Long Island, waited for him to leave the restaurant, then his club, finally the bar. At last, he came back to the Manhattan parking garage, tipsy, distracted . . .
She’d dressed with perfect irony—a young mother, cradling an infant. Hera breast-feeding Hercules. Only this son of Zeus had a belly full of bullets, and when the gun discharged in the chilly gloom, light flashed like the light from Hera’s breast to create all the stars of the Milky Way.
She cackled, recalling the man’s shocked face; his fat, falling body; the light of life leaving his eyes. Such a brilliant lawyer! Such a brilliant mind! How dazzling are you now? In your coffin? In your grave?
The getaway had been easy. No one saw her. No one stopped her. But she learned a valuable lesson the next day, watching those idiot news people report the execution.
Beware of all-seeing eyes. They record everything: comings and goings, sins and secrets . . .
The gods of the underworld had been with her that night. The police ignored the security camera’s image of a bundled up mother, her face obscured as she carried her child. Instead, they focused on more promising suspects: a young punk with a mugging rap sheet; a vagrant with mental problems; a worker on parole.
From then on, she remembered to look out for those all-seeing eyes—or find a way to trick them. All-seeing people were another matter. People like Clare Cosi.
That woman just wouldn’t stop prodding and probing; pushing and snooping. The stupid Coffee Lady might even be smart enough to unmask her. Which is why she must die this afternoon. And once that nosy barista is gone, I can begin my grand finale . . .
That afternoon, three impatient horn blasts shattered the tranquillity of my coffeehouse. I glanced out the front window to find a military vehicle idling on Hudson.
“I think Mr. Boss has arrived,” Esther announced, “unless we’re hosting a reunion for Desert Storm vets.”
The Hummer was massive; its exterior dabbled in the chocolate-chip brown of army camouflage. When I reached the sidewalk, Matt waved me forward.
“My God,” I said, “are we going to Queens or invading a small country?”
“Get in and we’ll decide.”
I slung my heavy handbag full of tricks over my shoulder. It clattered as I climbed into the cab. I swear I felt the monster engine rumbling in my chest.
“Breanne’s magazine rented this prop for a fashion photo shoot,” Matt explained.
“What to wear when the Joint Chiefs drop by?”
“Apparently, military-style wraps are a Best Bet for a Fall Favorite. Anyway, she had the thing parked in our building’s garage, so I thought, ‘What the hell?’ More fun than her wimpy hybrid, don’t you think?”
That’s when Matt took a closer look at my face—and his smile vanished. “What happened to your nose, Clare?”
“Oh, that . . .” I touched the bruise. “It’s nothing—”
Matt’s expression darkened. “Did Dudley Do-right do something wrong? Because if he did, he won’t know what hit him.”
“Matt—”
“I mean it. I’m pretty sure I can take that guy, armed or not.”
“Thanks, but Quinn had absolutely nothing to do with this. I ran into a door . . .” A big canary yellow door with a rock- hard forearm. “And with enough makeup you can barely see the damage.”
“A door?” Matt repeated. “So what’s the name of this ‘door’ and where can I find him?”
“I’ll explain on the way. Let’s get going. Here—” I passed him the napkin. “Nancy drew me a map.”
He waved it away. “I’ve got all the directions I need right here.” With affection, he patted a GPS device fitted to the dashboard. “We’re 6.9 miles, twenty-eight minutes, and one toll away.”
“Thank R2D2 for me.”
Matt slipped on a pair of Ray-Bans and eased the Hummer into traffic. With his new longish hairstyle and
