Marcie’s mouth twitched, then she shook her head and replied, “I don’t believe you! You’re just saying that!”
“Marcie! Please! Think about what I’ve said! Talk to me and I’ll make sure nobody hurts you. We’ll look after you. Think about what happened to Crystal!”
Marcie was silent for a brief moment, then slowly shook her head.
“If you won’t help me with who murdered your friend, then at least save your own life!”
“I can look after myself.” Her wide eyes and trembling lips revealed she knew she couldn’t.
“Come on, Marcie! Use your head!”
“I’m gettin’ out,” she said, opening the door.
“Marcie!” shouted Danny, grabbing her arm. “Believe me! I know what I’m saying!”
“Let go!” she wailed. “If I’m not under arrest, you can’t do this!”
“Look, think about what I’ve said. I want to help you, I really do. Take my card. It’s got my cell number. If you change your mind you’ll know how to reach me.”
Marcie reluctantly put the card in her purse and then got out of the car.
“Marcie,” said Danny, before she closed the door, “I hope you saved the little glass mouse Crystal gave you, ’cause there’s not much else left of her.”
Marcie’s eyes started to water, then she slammed the door and walked back to the mouth of the alley.
The hours slowly ticked by. Marcie stared at her watch to make sure it hadn’t quit. She kept thinking about Danny. Was he telling the truth? How did he know so much?
His face looked familiar. She was sure he had been coming and going from the BW. Should I tell Red? What if she thinks I squealed?
She took his card out of her purse and looked at it before stuffing it back inside. He said he’d look after me … but look what happened to the guy in the alley when he ratted out! She looked at the crystal mouse in her purse, then quickly closed it.
Almost midnight and still no customers. Typical Monday … when things are dead.
She saw headlights coming down the alley from behind the hotel. A dark-coloured pickup truck came to a stop. The headlights partially blinded her, but she could make out the silhouette of a figure gesturing to her from behind the steering wheel. She walked around to the passenger side, putting one foot on the running board as she stuck her face up to the open window.
“Hey, mister, looking to party?” she asked with a smile. Her smile vanished when she saw that the man was wearing a ski mask that hid all but his eyes and mouth.
She stood transfixed as the barrel of a shotgun rose toward her face. Abruptly, the shotgun jerked to a stop when it caught in the seatbelt harness.
The man pulled it free and Marcie screamed and turned her face as she started to tumble to the ground. The roar from the shotgun echoed up the alley as the truck careened wildly out into the street and disappeared.
Danny answered his cellphone. Two minutes after that, Jack and Danny pulled up to the curb a few blocks away from the Black Water. There was a telephone booth nearby, but it was empty. Seconds later, a figure crawled out from under a parked car and ran toward them.
Jack watched her yank open the back door of the car and clamber inside. She was saturated with urine, rain, and mud. Jack noted her face around her eyes. It was dry. The dirt and dust hadn’t been stained. As scared as she was, she hadn’t cried.
How hard has she become? Is she already like so many others down here whose brains protect them from their world by shutting out any emotion that causes pain? Completely incapable of any real feelings?
She looked out the back window of the car and then glanced out the side windows.
“You’re safe now, Marcie,” said Danny. “This is Jack Taggart, my partner.”
Marcie turned to stare out the back window. “Marcie! You’re safe! You really are,” said Jack. The gruff tone of his voice caught her attention. She looked at him for the first time, then said, “I know you! You were with Red a couple weeks ago! When that guy who ratted got killed in the back alley!”
“I was. Red doesn’t know who I really am.”
Marcie paused for a moment, then said, “You said somethin’ that made Red take me off the street for a while.”
“I tried to help. Sorry there wasn’t anything else I could do.”
Marcie stared briefly into his eyes, then her body relaxed and she held her head in her hands and wept.
Jack looked at Danny and said, “Let’s go to my apartment. She can have a shower and warm up while I wash her clothes. Then we’ll talk.”
“We could take her to my house. Susan wouldn’t mind.”
“No,” replied Jack quietly. “If things don’t work out, I don’t want anyone knowing where you live. It’s easier for me to change apartments than for you to sell your house.”
“Are we going to call Social Services?” asked Danny. “I’m not going with them!” wailed Marcie. “They got people in there who tell them stuff. I know, ’cause Red told me! You make me go there and I’ll just run away. I mean it!”
“Take it easy,” replied Jack. “Who do you mean when you say ‘they’? You said, ‘They got people in there.’”
“Bikers,” she sobbed, “Satans Wrath.”
He looked at Danny and whispered, “I believe her.”
It was two hours later when Marcie stepped out of a warm shower, wrapped a towel around herself, and peeked out the bathroom door.
“Your clothes are on my bed,” yelled Jack from the kitchen. “I didn’t iron them, but they’re clean. I just took them out of the dryer; they’re probably still warm. I also put one of my shirts on the bed. Put it on, too.”
Minutes later, Marcie walked into the kitchen. She looked flustered and gestured with her arms. She had rolled up the sleeves several times, but they still hung down to her wrists. The tail of Jack’s shirt hung to her knees.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Jack. “It looks better than the tank top.”
Marcie’s face flushed and she sat down at the table.
“How do you like your eggs?” asked Jack, opening the refrigerator.
“I — I’m not hungry,” she replied, sitting down at the kitchen table. “Thank you for washing my clothes. I was so scared I pissed … I mean wet myself.”
“So who tried to kill you, Marcie?” asked Jack, while dumping a package of bacon into a frying pan. “You said somebody took a shot at you. Do you know who it was? Did you see
