There was a country and western bar at the foot of the pier, just past the pool. There’d be people there. Rednecks. A shout for help and that guy would be toast.
Maggie was fast, but the man behind was gaining, wheezing his breath in and out. He was a train, too. She pumped her arms faster, forcing her legs to match the rhythm. But still he was gaining. His breath, louder now, churning up the tracks.
She felt like she was going to explode as she pumped her arms still faster. She was sprinting all out toward the dark stretch of sand between the pool and the pier. She couldn’t let him catch her there. She turned and started chugging up the sand toward the bar, sucking air, lungs about to burst.
The pool was a thing out of a horror story, Dark glass and concrete climbing three stories out of the sand, blocking out Ocean Avenue, blocking out help. She was alone in the world with her pursuer, the distance between them shrinking.
She saw the bar. She was going to make it. The door opened on a black van parked under a streetlight in front of the bar. She was about to shout out for help when Ferret Face stepped out of the van.
He had a gun.
Virgil was almost on her.
She dropped to the sand.
“What?” Virgil shouted as he tripped over her.
She scrambled to her feet and was off, sprinting like she was running the hundred yard dash back in high school. She was so exposed, her back a wide target. She made for the pier. There was someone under there. Scary probably, but someone.
“Get her!” Ferret Face shouted out.
The space under the pier was a dark tunnel to the sea. Waves whipped around the pylons, echoing through the blackness like a hurricane swirling through her soul. She kept her speed up, dodging the pylons till she stumbled over something.
“Hey,” someone shouted as she fell. She hit her head on something hard, but she didn’t have time to worry about what it was, because she was tangled up with a man. Rancid breath, hairy. She pushed away from him and sprang to her feet.
“I’m guessing you came here looking for safety.” Laughter. Maggie turned. It was a black man, wiry hair akimbo, beard to his chest. He smelled like he hadn’t bathed, ever.
“Men after me.” Maggie panted. “One has a gun.”
“We know,” the man she’d tripped over said. He was white, but you could hardly tell through his dirt covered face. His hair stuck out like he’d been electrocuted, his great beard was matted. There was a smell here, Maggie could easily imagine it coming from that beard.
“Come on out of there,” Virgil said. “We ain’t gonna hurt you.”
“Yeah, right,” Maggie muttered.
“Get under there and get her,” Ferret Face said.
“I ain’t going under there.”
“Come on.”
“You go,” Virgil said.
“Come on in. We’re waiting.” The black man’s quiet voice was like a gunshot through the night.
“Shit,” Ferret Face said.
“Bring yourself on in. We haven’t eaten yet,” the white man said.
“Fuck, there’s two of ’em,” Horace said.
“Let’s go,” Virgil said.
“Yeah.”
Maggie held her breath for what seemed like forever.
“They’re going,” the black man said.
Maggie exhaled. “Thank God.”
“A lady shouldn’t be out alone after dark,” the white man said.
“But I’m not alone.” Maggie Laughed. “I’m with you.”
“You look like you could use a drink.” The black man handed her a bottle.
“Thanks.” Maggie took a swig. “Shit, that’s awful.”
“Ain’t it though.” He laughed as she handed it back.
“Thanks, you guys were great.” Maggie dusted the sand from her Levi’s.
“Darley.” The black man extended his hand. “Darley Smalls.” Maggie took the hand. Hard, calloused, but gentle too. He didn’t have anything to prove any more.
“Theo Baptiste,” the white man said. “It’s French.” He held his hand out as Darley had.
“Maggie Nesbitt.” She took it. He had a firm grip, but not as firm as it could have been. He could have crushed her with his giant paw.
“Pleased to meet you,” Baptiste said.
“You guys weren’t afraid,” Maggie said. “Those men had a gun.”
“Gun or no, they were cowards,” Darley said. “We weren’t worried.”
“How could you tell?”
“They were chasing a woman,” he said. “Real men don’t have to do that.”
“No, they don’t,” Maggie said.
“They were gonna take you,” Theo said. “They had that van parked and waiting. It was you they wanted, not just any pretty woman happened to be out after dark. They set you up.”
“I saw them earlier today, then the one with the gun later, at the Lounge up on Second Street. I thought he was a policeman because I saw the gun.”
“He was no policeman,” Darley said.
“I guess not.”
“You live with that news guy. Maybe he was poking his nose in a story where it doesn’t belong,” Theo said.
“How do you know who I live with?”
“We rest here after dark,” Darley said, “but we have to be gone by sunrise or the lifeguards run us off. So we spend the days wandering the alleys, poking through the trash, checking out what people like you toss away. You’d be surprised what we find and what we know. Show us a face and we can put it together with an address. We’re not your average bums.”
“How do you live?”
“We got places to sell the stuff we find,” Theo said. “We get by.”
“I gotta get my shoes.” All of a sudden Maggie wanted to be home. These men could be every bit as dangerous and the men they’d scared off. She backed out of the dark.
“You get in trouble. You remember us. We don’t take to men chasing after a woman,” Theo said.
“Not at all,” Darley said.
“I’ll remember,” Maggie said. Then, “I gotta go.”
“I think we’ll walk you back to those shoes,” Darley said and they followed her out from under the pier.
They walked the distance in silence. Maggie’s impression had been that these men might be dangerous, but they didn’t seem so now, not exactly safe either, but she didn’t feel threatened by them.
“That them over there?” Darley pointed.
“That’s them.”
“You’ll be okay now,” Theo said. “They’re gone.” And without even a goodbye, they turned and started back toward the pier.
Chapter Six
Maggie walked into the Whale out of breath. She took a quick look around, spotted Gordon sitting in one of the booths by the pool tables, playing chess with one of the two men sitting across from him. It was obvious the
