Behind us, some of the police cars had already turned around. Lights flashing, they raced north on LaSalle, trying to catch up. On the busy city streets at that time of day, they stood no chance. Sometimes though, if they couldn't do anything else, cops just liked to make noise. Eventually, Tinkerton would send a small army after us. The man had no shortage of anger or motivation, but he had no idea where we were going or where we might get off. For the moment anyway, we were free.
“How long do you want to stay on this thing?” she asked.
“You're the local expert, you got any suggestions?”
“The El drops underground in another mile and turns into a subway. It runs north under State Street into the Loop. We could get off at Randolph and run like hell.”
“Running would not be a good thing. We want to be quick, but melt into the crowd.”
“I'm much better at melting,” she hugged my arm tighter.
I looked down at her, exasperated. “Are you going to keep making suggestive comments like that, because…”
“Hey, I'm just fooling around, Talbott,” she said, not backing off an inch. “So lighten up. You sound like an old man.”
“I
“Humor? Well, they might lock you up for a lot of things, but you are way too late for statutory rape.” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “I'm twenty-four.”
“And I'm thirty-four and the longer I hang around with you, I'm not sure I'll ever see thirty-five.”
“Then I've got a lot of work to do to “young” you up, don't I?” She squeezed my arm tighter again. “’Cause I'm not ready to act thirty.”
The train rolled on north through another station. “Okay,” I said. “We'll get off at Randolph.”
“We could go back to my aunt's. And I have a couple of girlfriends out in the suburbs I could call. Or we could hop on another subway and head north to Evanston.”
“Bringing your friends would be a bad idea, but what's in Evanston?”
“My Toyota. I have it parked up there in a rental garage. It isn't much, but it's a car and it can get us to Milwaukee, or Peoria, or St. Louis, or somewhere.”
“No, Tinkerton would have already checked on vehicle registrations and they'd have an APB out on your car and the license plates.”
“Well, we can take the El out to O'Hare or Midway and catch a plane.”
“You and me make it through airport security? That won't work.”
“Let me think,” she said. “There are some commuter railroads that come into the Loop. The Northwestern Station is about a half mile away. Or we could run over to Michigan Avenue and catch the Illinois Central or the South Shore.”
“The South Shore? Where does that go?”
“South, dummy! Well, actually it swings east around the south shore of the lake into Indiana, as far as South Bend, I think. Eddie took me there once, to a Notre Dame game.”
“Eddie? Did he go to Notre Dame?”
“Get real. His golden dome was above his ears. No, Eddie was a gambler and he liked to watch his money work. He bet like Pete Rose and he lied even worse. He would tell me he quit and then put down serious money on a half-dozen football games the next weekend. The bastard borrowed money from everybody, always looking for that big score. He hocked my camera once. I chipped his front tooth over that one.”
“A real sweetheart.”
“Yeah, he was a walk in the park. We had our moments though,” she smiled wistfully. “They lasted about a week and a half after the honeymoon, when the love muffin disappeared and I woke up next to the real Eddie.”
Through the window, I watched the train drop lower and lower until we disappeared inside a tunnel and everything went black. The lights came on inside the car and the rumbling clickety-clack of steel wheels reverberating off the concrete drowned out her voice. Outside, the first sign for the Randolph Street station flashed past.
“Is this where we get off?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
I turned her around so she faced me and looked into her eyes. “Look, you can stay on the train and ride it to the end of the line, you know.”
“Then what?” she asked. “Go home and feed the cat? Clean the kitchen? Bury the stiff in the rear yard? I don't think so.”
“If you come with me, we're getting out of Chicago. I don't know where we're going, probably to Boston, and I don't how long it will be before you ever get back here.”
“Promise? Because I'm bone tired of Chicago, Talbott. It's flat worn me out and there's nothing here I want to go back to. Frankly, Boston sounds pretty good to me. Anywhere sounds pretty good, so stop trying to talk me out of it.” She still had her arm through mine and she pulled me out the door onto the platform. “I'm coming, are you?”
I pulled my arm free and ran down the platform toward the staircase, but she blew by me at a dead run. I ran after her, but I never stood a chance. In seconds, we were up on the street, walking away, and blending into the fast-moving crowd. The truth was I was glad she was with me. I also knew it was stupid and very dangerous, but I couldn't stop myself anymore. She was so alive, and I was so tired of being alone.
“Let's take the train to Indiana,” I decided and told her. “The South Shore. It'll get us out of here, and it's in the right direction.”
“Okay. The South Shore station is under the Prudential Building.”
“I was there yesterday. I had to fight off the hookers for a pay phone.”
“It's so nice to be wanted,” she laughed as she latched onto my arm again. “We're disguised as a couple. But to make it work, you've got to pretend you're enjoying it.”
We walked up Randolph past a long line of stores. Every half block I pulled her into a doorway. She would put both arms around me inside my jacket and rest her head on my chest while I looked up and down the street. “We could move a bit faster if you didn't keep doing that,” I told her.
“I'm pretending, remember. So stop complaining.”
What could I say? I looked up at the sky, expecting a lightning bolt to zap me any minute, but the tall buildings and deep doorways probably ruined Terri's aim.
At the next corner I saw the entrance to the underground commuter rail station. We passed two gypsy girls on the stairs hawking cellophane-wrapped roses to the tourists. Sandy started down the stairs, but I pulled her back and reached into my pants pocket. I pulled out a badly wrinkled five-dollar bill and handed it to one of the girls, who smiled and gave me one of the big red ones.
“Here,” I said sheepishly as I turned and gave it to Sandy.
Her face lit up like a small child. “A rose? A red rose? You?” I seemed to have caught her completely by surprise. “Uh… I really don't know what to say, Talbott.”
“You said to pretend we're a couple,” I answered.
Before I could stop her, she reached up and kissed me softly on the cheek. “This is very sweet of you,” she said. “I know you're just pretending, Talbott, and that's okay. You're safe out here on the street, but don't do something like this when we're alone.”
Hand-in-hand, we ran down the stairs to the underground railroad station under the Prudential Building. There was a large, framed railroad route map standing next to the ticket booths. I found downtown and let my finger trace the line that ran south and east around Lake Michigan. Each colored dot represented a local or express train station.
“Here's my plan,” I told her. “We'll take the next South Shore train, like you said, whatever comes first, and head into Indiana. If we move quickly, while Tinkerton and the cops are still streaming north, maybe we can slip through before they can close the net.”
“Makes sense.”
“Then stay close and keep quiet.” We walked up to the ticket window at the far end. “When's the next train
