Living with the Dead Part 19

"I'm fine," Robyn said, which was, for the moment, true.

"Where are you? What's that noise?"

"I'm safe. I'm just having some trouble turning myself in."

"I totally understand that. I don't think I'd have the guts to even try try to do it without support moral and legal. So here's what we'll do " to do it without support moral and legal. So here's what we'll do "

"That's not it. I " Two kids went by, screaming about wanting to ride the Avalanche before leaving. Robyn waited for them to pa.s.s.

"Rob? Are you still there? What's that racket?"

"Busy place. I do want to turn myself in. I tried. I can't. It's the girl from the photograph. Adele Morrissey."

"Adele? How'd you ?"

"I know her. She used to take pictures of Portia. She's a papa razzo."

"What?"

"A paparazzo. And a f.u.c.king psychopath, apparently."

The woman beside her looked over sharply. Even Hope had gone silent in shock at her language. Robyn mouthed an apology to the woman and inched down the bench, lowering her voice.

"She was at the police station."

"Adele? From the photo?"

"Right. She intercepted me. She wanted my cell phone. She had a gun, so I ran. She chased me. I grabbed another cab, went to another police station and she was there, waiting for me on the steps. She got there before I did."

"Okay, so "

"I can't lose her, Hope. No matter what I do, where I go, she finds me. Finally, I found a police officer a bike patrolman. She she shot him." The air seemed to thin at the memory and Robyn had to inhale and exhale to catch her breath before continuing. "She shot him from behind. Killed him. I got a bullet through my shoulder."

"She shot you?"

"I'm fine. But she's still following me, and the minute I give her a chance, she's going to kill me, for a cell phone I don't even have have."

"Okay, then, we aren't going to give her that chance, are we?" Hope's voice was calm.

"She can find me, Hope. Anywhere Anywhere. I've lost her over and over, and no matter where I go, as soon as I think I'm safe, she pops up "

"Are you someplace safe now? Where you can wait?"

"Yes, but "

"Then tell me where you are and we'll come and get you."

"You aren't listening, Hope. She'll kill you. She'll kill Karl. She'll kill anyone who gets between me and her."

"We'll handle it. Just tell me "

Robyn hung up. Seconds later, an unfamiliar ring made her jump. Her phone.

She flicked it off and back on, then dialed 411, called the station and asked for Detective Findlay. She offered to leave her number, but when the woman heard who it was, she had her stay on the line.

"John Findlay," a voice said a couple of minutes later.

"Detective Findlay? It's Robyn Peltier. You've been looking for me."

"Are you okay?"

That wasn't what she expected and she hesitated a moment before saying, "I'm fine. I'm at a spring fair in..." She wasn't sure of the exact neighborhood, only remembering that the cabbie said it was the Wils.h.i.+re Park district, so she told him that.

"Fair?"

"It's a long story. I've been trying to turn myself in but "

"You've been having trouble."

She paused. How'd he know that?

"I'll be right there," he continued. "Stay in a public area. I'll phone when I arrive. Give me... twenty minutes."

"Okay."

"How's your shoulder? Do you need medical attention?"

"My... ?"

The bike officer. He must have lived. He'd told Findlay about her being shot and said she'd had trouble surrendering.

"I'll need it looked at, but "

"Hang up the phone," said a voice beside her.

Robyn twisted, expecting to see the woman with the sleeping child. Instead, sitting at the other end of the bench was Adele Morrissey.

"h.e.l.lo?" Adele said. "Do you speak English, Robyn? Hang up the phone."

She did, still dazed. "What do you want?"

"Duh. The same thing I've wanted for two days. We call it a cell phone. Let's see if you can do something bright for a change and hand it over before you kill more people."

"I haven't killed "

"Of course you have. That cop friend you ran to Thursday night? That bike cop a few hours ago? Boohoo, poor me, I need a man to protect me. See what happens? You make me kill them and I'm tired of it. I have better things to do, you know."

Robyn searched Adele's eyes for some sign she was trying to be funny. There was none.

"You want my phone?" Robyn lifted the cell and waggled it. "This phone?" phone?"

Adele glowered like a child having candy waved in front of her face.

Robyn whipped her arm so fast a man ducked as if narrowly avoiding being hit.

"You " Adele began.

"Better run," Robyn said. "You can't trust folks these days. If someone gets it before you..."

Adele glared at her, then jumped up and disappeared into the crowd to find the phone.

Robyn waited until Adele was out of sight, then slid the cell phone from her sleeve and sneaked off the other way.

ROBYN.

Robyn looked out over the multicolored haze of the fairgrounds as her Ferris wheel car climbed. Was Detective Findlay on his way? If he did come, what would he do? Quietly search for her? Or commandeer the PA system, sending Adele into a murderous panic?

She dismissed the last thought by focusing on a lighter one. Tomorrow's headline: "Double Murder Suspect Apprehended on Ferris Wheel." She tried to laugh, but the sound came out shaky, whisked away on the updraft as the car descended, the swaying setting her wounded shoulder afire.

When her car dipped to the bottom, she saw Adele in the crowd by the ride's exit gate. Robyn couldn't summon even a spark of surprise. She was beyond thinking she could outwit Adele. To get through this, she had to believe the unbelievable that this young woman could find her wherever she went. Accept it and work around it.

So when the car descended the next time, Robyn pretended to search the crowd for Adele, as if she hadn't seen her. As it rose again, she used the cell phone and called a cab. The dispatcher said a car would be at the front gates in twenty minutes. Robyn checked her watch, calculating. She took a deep breath of chill night air. She'd been playing cat and mouse with a psychotic killer for six hours. She could survive another twenty minutes.

Robyn erased all calls from the log. If she had to hand this phone over to Adele, she wasn't taking the chance of her going after Hope when she realized she'd been duped.

Once in the cab, she'd go to the nearest police station. If Adele somehow managed to get there first, Robyn would continue on, from station to station, until she found one where the driver could drop her off right at the door. Then she'd make a run for it.

As plans went, this one sucked, as Damon would say. But it would have to do.

The Ferris wheel was unloading now. Robyn leaned over the side, making a show of searching the crowd. She'd already seen Adele slip behind a burly man at the exit.

Finally Robyn's car reached the platform. She let the operator help her out, and started toward the exit. A few steps from it, she stopped, checking her pockets, then shaking her head. She walked to the bank of cubbies where riders stashed backpacks and stuffed bears. She pretended to root around in the last cube, then darted to a nearby gap in the fencing. The attendant at the gate let out only a halfhearted "hey" as she squeezed through.

Sixteen minutes left.

Robyn didn't run too obvious just walked quickly, scouring the attractions for one that would whisk her out of Adele's reach for a few minutes. But the lines were now swollen with laughing, jostling teens who scared away anyone over twenty. Robyn would stick out like a sore thumb among them. What she needed was A profanity-laced outburst exploded behind her, and she glanced back to see Adele bowling through a knot of teens, her gaze fixed on Robyn, shouldering aside anyone who got in her path.

Okay, Bobby, browsing time is over. Pick something and hustle your a.s.s in there.

Robyn skirted one large group. Then she saw the answer, s.h.i.+mmering and winking under blinding floodlights. A house of mirrors.

She jogged over, startling the dozing attendant. Clearly not one of the more popular attractions at the fair tonight. All the better. Robyn flashed her wristband, climbed the steps and dashed into the maze.

She snaked down the first few corridors, feeling her way, paying little heed to her surroundings until, deciding she was in deep enough, she slowed.

Think you can find me anywhere, Adele? Try this.

She leaned against the cool gla.s.s wall, smiling as she caught her breath. Beyond the trailer, the lights of the fair flashed, distorted bubbles of color.

Uh, Bobby... You shouldn't be able to see that. Not through mirrors.

She told herself it was an illusion, that the lights were actually inside the trailer, reflecting off the mirrors. Then she saw the distorted shape of a man carrying a child on his shoulders, the little one's white s.h.i.+rt glowing.

A house of mirrors? No, she was in a house of gla.s.s.

Don't panic, Bobby. You're the only one in there, right? If you can't see the faces of people outside, Adele can't see yours from out there.

But that didn't matter with Adele. She could find Robyn anywhere.

The trailer steps creaked. A figure appeared at the distant entrance. Robyn wheeled and stumbled the other way. Three strides, and she smacked into a pane of gla.s.s. Both hands shot out, feeling her way, finding gla.s.s in front and to either side, and then she understood the idea of a gla.s.s maze. You could see the exit sign, but couldn't get to it, banging around like a bird caught in a sunroom.

She kept feeling. Gla.s.s in front and beside, trapped Bobby? Relax. You're just caught in a dead end.

She turned and saw the other figure moving through the corridors. She could make out only a light-colored s.h.i.+rt and dark pants, a description that could fit half the people at the fair.

Take a deep breath... then get the h.e.l.l out of there, Bobby.

Robyn headed back the way she'd come, sweeping the sides and front, taking any turn that would bring her closer to that exit sign. The other person she refused to think of it as Adele kept moving, too, getting closer, then farther away as she navigated the maze.

Finally, Robyn saw the exit sign right ahead, above the gla.s.s, so close she could jump She smacked into the wall.

She frantically ran her hands around all three sides. The exit was right there right there. She could see the steps, the faces of pa.s.sersby, just one pane of gla.s.s separating them.

She turned around. The other figure was closer now, no more than ten feet and a few gla.s.s panes away. A woman with dark blond hair and a yellow s.h.i.+rt. Just like Don't think, Bobby. Just keep moving.

But moving meant getting closer to Adele. She kept picturing the gun and her knees locked. Finally she closed her eyes and, feeling her way, took one step, then another. The junction that led to the exit couldn't be far. She'd just taken a wrong turn.

Only she hadn't. There hadn't been another route all along that back corridor. Finally she reached the end, turned, and turned again, each move bringing her closer to that searching figure.

Just keep going. If she made it to the entrance, that was good enough. Ignore Adele. It was a public place At a smack against the gla.s.s, Robyn jumped and even as she turned, the memory of Adele at the taxi window resurfaced and she knew There she was, right on the other side, her face twisted by the warped gla.s.s, pulled into something monstrous, all eyes and gaping mouth. Even through the distortion, Robyn could see her hate and felt a twinge of outrage. What had she done to deserve this girl's hatred?

She's nuts, Bobby. She doesn't need a reason. Just run Adele pulled out her gun.

Robyn sidestepped, unable to tear her gaze away from the weapon.

It's on the other side of the gla.s.s, Bobby. She's trying to spook you. Don't let her. Just get out of there.

Another slow step sideways. Robyn slid her hand into her pocket and took out the cell phone, then motioned throwing it over the wall. Adele nodded and lowered the gun.

Robyn reached as high as she could and dropped the phone over the wall. She didn't wait to see whether Adele caught it. She was turning to run when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Adele let the phone hit the floor, her hands rising, the gun swinging up.

Robyn dove. The bullet sliced through the gla.s.s and whizzed past her.

Holy s.h.i.+t. Holy s.h.i.+t!