on top of the wall, then rolled over it into the mud and scrambled to her feet.
She hurried out of the shadows and ran across a parking lot. It was a deserted industrial stretch, and she hurried past abandoned cars rusting in place. She ran along the street, and ahead shone the lights and attractions of the Camden waterfront. Rain ricocheted off the asphalt. Stones dug into her soles but she kept running. There wasn’t much traffic, and a minivan sped past her, spraying water and grit.
A sign read WIGGINS PARK AHEAD, but it looked too far away. She didn’t have time to waste. She had to get to the airport. She couldn’t keep up this pace much longer.
A cab turned the corner, slowing at a stop sign, and she bolted for it, tore open its back door, and shouted at the woman passenger, “Get out!”
“Hey! What?” The young girl edged backwards in fear, her short dress riding up. “Help!”
The cab driver twisted around, startled. “Lady, what’re you doin’? This is
Alice yanked the girl out by her elbow, then slammed the door closed. “Drive! There’s five hundred bucks in it for you!”
“Bull!”
“Drive, I said!” Alice stuck a hand into her soggy messenger bag, where the bundles of money sat in a pool of water. She grabbed one and waved it at the cabbie, spraying him. “It’s wet but it’s green.”
“Whoa!” The cabbie hit the gas. “Where we goin’?”
“To the airport, and hurry.”
Chapter Ninety-seven
Mary stood at Judy’s bedside while she rested, a greenish oxygen tube snaking her friend’s nose, an IV running to the back of her hand, and a plastic wire traveling to a clip on her index finger. She had gone into shock, but the bullet had only pierced her shoulder and she was going to be fine. Mary sent up a thankful prayer as her mother smothered Judy’s face with kisses.
“Ma.” She placed a hand on her mother’s soft back. “If you keep this up, she’ll need more oxygen.”
“
“Thanks.” Judy smiled and her weary gaze shifted to Mary’s father, who was attached to her hand more securely than the IV. “I love you guys.”
“WE LOVE YOU, TOO, KIDDO.” Her father patted her hand, and Mary smiled.
“Jude, your parents are on the way, and we told them you were okay. We caught them right before their plane took off.”
“Good. Thanks.” Judy sighed, and her eyes fell on Mary, at the foot of the bed. For a minute neither of them said anything.
“I’m so sorry,” Mary said, softly.
“What for?”
“For not believing you. For giving you such a hard time. For being such a bad friend. For almost getting you killed.”
“Guilt city.” Judy reached for her hand. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”
“Yes I do.”
“No, you don’t. It’s okay. Friends fight.”
“Not us.”
“Once every ten years, even us. That’s how we know we care. Agree with me, would you? I’m perforated, for God’s sake.”
“Okay. I agree.” Mary nodded.
“Where’s Bennie and Grady?”
“Off, after Alice.”
“Good.” Judy’s gaze shifted toward the door, which was opening.
They all turned to see who was coming in, including Mary.
Standing in the threshold was Anthony.
Chapter Ninety-eight
Bennie, Grady, and two cops, Officers Stern and Rigton, crowded onto the front step of the Society Hill town house, and the door was opened by a tall, bald man in a red plaid bathrobe, whom they’d clearly gotten out of bed.
“I’m Ron Engel, folks,” he said, extending a hand. “Officers, good to see you. Please excuse my appearance. Do come in.”
“Ron, hello.” Bennie had spoken to him on the phone but he’d insisted on seeing her in person. “Do you remember me? We met a few months ago, and I’m a private client of yours.”
“I remember you, yes. Come on in out of this weather.” Engel let everyone in to a well-appointed anteroom with a cherry console table, a sculptural ceramic lamp, and a Persian rug. “I made some calls to my team in private banking, in reference to this matter.”
“What’s happening?” Bennie asked. Grady stood next to her, but she didn’t pay him any attention. She wasn’t the woman he remembered anymore, anyway. “Ron, is Alice moving my money and how can we stop her?”
Officer Stern looked over, frowning under the wet bill of his cap. “Miss Rosato, we agreed we’d handle this.”
“You are,” Bennie shot back. “So am I.”
“To begin, I spoke with Legal about it.” Engel glanced at Officer Stern. “Officer, are we sure this is the real Bennie Rosato? I wouldn’t want to expose the bank to any liability.”
Officer Stern nodded. “This is Bennie Rosato. We expect to have Alice Connelly in custody tonight. At this juncture, she’s a fugitive from a charge of attempted murder, among other things.”
“Murder?” Engel’s graying eyebrows flew upward, and Bennie ran out of patience.
“I need to stop her from transferring that money.”
“We can’t. I’ve checked, and all of your accounts were already wired to BSB on Nassau.”
“All my accounts? Everything?”
“Yes.” Engel’s lips set. “The bank is not liable in this matter, because, as you know, Miss Connelly presented all the proper identification and she-”
“I’m not going to sue you,” Bennie interrupted. “Can’t we call the Nassau bank and prevent the transfer? Right now?”
“No. No one’s there, and the transfer is electronic and instantaneous. It goes through, regardless. It already has.”
“That’s impossible. I don’t have an account there.”
“Yes, you do. She opened one. It will be opened automatically the first thing tomorrow morning, and the money’s already in it. We do it all the time for private banking clients.” Engel cocked his graying head. “USABank is merely a stakeholder in this matter. We had no choice but to transfer the money when properly instructed to do so-”
“Ron, there has to be some way to undo that transfer.”
“Please.” Engel held up a hand. “We can’t undo the transfer, but we can freeze the accounts. We’ll send an email that will instruct BSB, the Bahamian bank, not to permit any withdrawals or transfers from any of the accounts. I’ll follow up with a phone call personally, first thing on Tuesday morning.”
“Will that prevent her from withdrawing it, for sure?”
“Yes. BSB is our partner bank. If we instruct them that the legality of the transfer is in question, they’ll put a
