gear. Just a neighbor here to ask a question.
“Hi, Cassidy,” he said brightly, “I was wondering if you could help me out with something. Wow, what happened to your eye?”
“Umm,” I stammered, “Don’t worry about it. What’s up?”
“My girlfriend bet me a six-pack that I couldn’t cook dinner, so now I need to come up with something she’ll like and I was wondering how to make meat loaf.”
Is he serious? I thought. Meatloaf?
“Meatloaf? Why meatloaf?” A glance at Silva. “Sure, I can tell you how to make meatloaf but that’s not exactly a meal that is going to impress a girl.
Meatloaf is what housewives make if they can’t think of anything else.” I glanced at Silva. He rolled his eyes and started eating his steak.
Michaels looked at me quizzically, like okay, what would impress a girl? Was he enjoying this? I felt like a jellyfish. My legs were all wobbly. I was barely thinking. I was watching for my break.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What would impress a girl?”
“You have to make something like she’d order at a restaurant. There’s easy ways to make dishes like that, too. When is she coming over?”
“Tomorrow.”
“That gives you some time. Go to the store and buy a bottle of Jamaica Mistake. It’s a marinade.” Gee, I guess I do marinade everything. “Get a package of boneless chicken breasts. Put the two in a big Ziploc bag and marinade it for a few hours. Cook the chicken on the grill and steam some vegetables to go on the side. You can cook rice to go with it.”
I stole another glance at Silva. He was getting impatient. Good, that was just what I wanted. He rose and stood at the door of the dining room. He caught the tablecloth on his way out and his plate scooted towards the edge of the table as he got up. Even better. Shadow stared at the plate. He really wanted that steak but he knew he had to get the code word first. His ears pricked, begging for the code word. He drooled a little.
“Chicken?” he said. “You think she’ll like chicken?”
“Better than hamburger. You can do the same thing with steak but I like it with chicken better.” Check out the dining room. I looked Michaels in the eye and slid the car keys out of my pocket pointing at the electric blue BMW Roadster parked on the street. A barely noticeable nod affirmed he got it.
Chatting with a neighbor was not the same thing as getting rid of them. Silva was debating between heading off something at the door and sitting down to his steak. This is what I was waiting for. I glanced at Shadow. He was so close to that plate all he needed was… “Okay,” I said, and then louder, “Get it!”
Shadow lunged for the steak. There was a clatter for silverware and china and Silva turned. He lunged for the dog. I hopped out the door, closing it behind me. I slid the key in the lock and heard the bolt slide in. I dashed for the car. There were a lot more cars on my street than usual. Men in uniform hunched behind them. My hands were shaking so bad I couldn’t find the keyhole. Stupid key! Come on! The curtains were thrust aside and a shot went wild over our heads shattering my front window. The key slid in. I heard the snap of the door locks disengaging and we jumped in. I turned the key, threw the car into gear and took off. Zero to sixty in 5 seconds. Thank you, Jack! I love this car. I screeched around the corner and took the left turn that led out of the neighborhood, then immediately had to brake to a stop at the police barricade.
“Whoa, little lady. You can stop here. This is the where the good guys hang out.” I pulled to a stop beside the group of police cars. A uniform walked up to Michaels, checking us out.
“Everybody okay? We heard a shot.”
“Yeah, I think so.” Michaels answered. “You okay?”
I got out of the car and sank to the ground, sitting cross-legged in the dirt. Too much. I was wound up too tight. I had to sit. But not in the car. The car oozed stress, too. Okay, just sit. It’ll be fine.
Michaels walked around the car and knelt down in front of me. All I could do was stare at the ground. He put his hands on my shoulders looked me in the eye. “Did Silva do this to you?” He touched my black eye gingerly.
A single nod, “Yeah, but that’s not what hurts.”
“I know,” he almost whispered and sat down on the ground with his shoulder against mine. I listened in stunned silence to the crackle of the police radios and the quiet talk in the background. Even with all the action and tension around me, it was relatively quiet compared to the noise of my mind for the past ten hours. The warmth felt good. Just the touch pulled some of the tension away. We sat that way while the cops closed in and did their thing.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“That’s cop talk for ‘we need the rest of the story so we can put this guy away for a long, long time.’”
“You’re right. But it’s also from someone who knows what it’s like to be kidnapped, and beaten, and shot at. It’ll help you to get the story out.”
A big sigh escaped, almost a sob, but I was determined not to cry. “He’s got my dog and my dinner. And I can’t go back. And you guys are going to have to watch my house for a few days.”
He grew grim again. Long pause.
“Why’s that?”
“Silva is expecting company in a day or so. That’s why I was determined to get out of there today. You’ll probably want to pick him up, too. Name’s Oscar. I think he might have met with more trouble than Silva did, so there will probably be some charges filed there, too. He’ll probably be driving a stolen car. Sounded like something sporty but big enough for two guys, a bag of loot and a hostage. Something fast.”
Michaels stood and spoke with one of the uniforms.
“Look, I need to get back and wrap things up. Will you wait here for me?”
I nodded numbly, “One more thing you should know.”
He knelt down in front of me. “Yeah, what’s that?”
“The master bedroom closet has two rifles and two pistols in it. Silva doesn’t know they are there, but if he hides back there he could discover it. He’d have ammo for a long stand off.”
“That might be good to know, thanks. You sure you’re okay?”
I nodded again, “I’ll be okay as soon as this is all over.”
Michaels spoke to another officer. She came over and sat with me, but it wasn’t the same. He jogged back to my house, disappearing behind the Wilson home.
A fire department rescue squad drove up and two paramedics jumped out and spoke to the officers standing around. One of them approached me.
“Let’s get you checked out.”
“I’m fine,” I said. “A little banged up but I’m not injured in any way.”
“A black eye and three lumps on your head and you’re not
