wiping my new glasses, I looked across the low ground as the rear of the mall came into view.
There was a loud hiss of brakes as a truck backed up to a loading bay. Three other trucks were already parked along side the car where I'd met Luther. But again, just as at the hotel, there were no police investigating the crime scene.
Maybe they didn't like the weather.
Only the bays that were in use were lit. The group of bins where I'd hidden Kelly was pretty much in shadow. One was being filled with the old metal shelving I'd used on Luther.
Even from where I was, I could hear the loud crash and clatter. Kelly must be petrified down there.
No need for a 360; I'd seen enough. As I looked forward deciding where to go now, I watched a bus pull up by a shelter, take on passengers, and drive off again. Maybe that was our way out of here.
But if they'd found Kelly and set an ambush, where was I going to run? I had to work out an escape route. Hijacking cars doesn't work so well in a built-up area it attracts too much attention. Better to use the crowds and confusion. I picked three possible routes.
Hanging around increased the chance of getting busted, so I decided to lift off from the area for a while. I continued on to the stores. I thought I'd get some stuff for Kelly; she'd be needing an appearance change, too. She'd been on the news;
she was famous now.
I bought her a nice big floppy hat. I wanted to tuck her hair up out of the way and hide her face as best I could. I also bought her a thinly padded pink three-quarter-length coat to cover those skinny legs, and a completely new set of clothes to fit a nine-year-old. She was tall for her age, so I thought I'd better get the larger size. Almost as an afterthought, I bought myself some new jeans and a T-shirt.
With a handful of shopping bags I retraced the route along the fence. As I walked away from the stores, their lights still reflected on the wet asphalt of the parking lot. The traffic was slow on the main drag, windshield wipers on full speed.
As I got to the fence I looked left. There was no change.
I kept on walking. As I got level with the stores, the access road started to rise up to meet me. The fence stopped. I turned left down a slippery grass embankment and onto the road that led to the back of the stores. I followed the fence again as I dropped down into the vacant lot.
The rain had turned the dust into mush. I now had the fence to my left and the loading bays to the right. I kept on walking, fighting the temptation just to run to Kelly, grab her, and get the hell out of there. That's what gets people caught or killed.
My eyes must have looked as if I were plugged into the power lines. They were darting everywhere, getting as much information into my head as possible. I wanted to see this am bush before it was sprung. I was committed now. If push came to shove, I'd fucking shove.
What if Kelly wasn't there? I'd call 911 and say I'd seen that girl from the news wandering around the area. Hopefully the cops would get her before Luther's pals did. That was if they hadn't already. I'd then have to take my chances when the Nick Stone manhunt began. Whoever had her would then have my name.
I got to within about twenty yards of the bins, still walking at the same steady pace. I didn't even look around now, because that took time and effort.
I came up to the bins and started to lift away the boxes.
"Kelly, it's me! Kelly! See, I told you I'd come back."
The cardboard was soaking wet, coming apart in my hands. As I pulled the last of it away, I could see she was more or less exactly in the position I'd left her. Curled up, sitting on some dry cardboard. My mind flashed back to how she'd looked when I'd found her in the garage. At least she wasn't rocking, with her hands clamped over her ears. She was dry;
maybe the bogeyman had got in, but at least the rain hadn't.
I stood her up and put her new coat around her shoulders.
"I hope you like pink," I said.
"I got this for you, too." I put the hat on her head to preserve whatever was left of her body heat.
She put her arms around me. I hadn't been expecting it;
I didn't know how to react. I just kept talking to her. She cuddled me harder.
I readjusted the hat.
"There, that'll keep you nice and dry. Now let's go and get you a bath and something to eat, shall we?"
I had the bags in my left arm. She gripped my left sleeve as we walked. It was awkward, but I needed to keep my right hand free to draw my pistol. The bus was about half full with shoppers and bulging shopping bags. Kelly was cuddled up beside me in the window seat. Her hat was doing its job; her hair was tucked up, and the dropped brim covered her face. I was feeling good. I'd saved her from Luther and his buddies. I'd done the right thing.
We were on our way to Alexandria, an area I knew to be south of downtown D.C. but within the Beltway; we were going there because that was what had been on the destination sign of the first bus to arrive.
Everyone was fed up and wet, and the bus was well misted up. I leaned across and used my sleeve to wipe away the condensation, but it didn't help much. I looked toward the front, where the windshield wipers were working overtime.
The priority was a hotel; we'd have to check into one within the next hour or so, because the later in the day I left it, the more unusual it would look.
"Nick?"
I didn't want to look at her because I knew what she was going to ask.
"Yes?"
"Why were those men chasing you? Did you do something wrong?"
I could feel her looking at me under her hat.
"I don't know who they are, Kelly. I just don't know." Eyes still fixed on the clear patch of windshield, I said, "You hungry?"
In the corner of my eye, I could see her hat moving up and down.
"Not long now. What do you want McDonald's?
Wendy's?"
She nodded for both, then mumbled something. I was still looking out the window.
"What's that?"
"Mickey D's."
"Mickey D's?"
"McDonald's! You're so out of it!" "Ah, OK that's what we'll get."
I went back to my thoughts. I would only use cash from now on; I had to assume the worst, which was that we'd been traced through my credit card. Despite that, I'd still call London again. Deep down, I guessed that they'd probably already consigned my records to the shredder, but what did I have to lose?
We drove past a place called the Roadies Inn. It fit the bill. I didn't have a clue where we were, but that didn't matter; I'd sort that out later. I signaled the driver that we wanted the next stop.
When the Roadies Inn had been built in the 1960s it probably looked like a million dollars. Now even the grass outside looked faded, and on the red neon vacancy sign the V and the N were flickering. Perfect.
I peered through the screen door to the lobby. A woman in her twenties was behind the reception desk, smoking, and watching a TV that was on the far wall. I only hoped we hadn't had star billing on the news. Looking past her into the back office, I saw a bald, overweight man, probably late fifties, working at a desk.
"I want you to wait just here, Kelly." I pointed to the wall of the hotel under the upstairs landing that acted as a patio.
She didn't like it.
"I won't be long," I said, starting to walk backward toward the doors.
"Just wait there; I'll be right back." By now I was at the door. I pointed at her as if I were training a puppy.
"Stay, OK?"
The desk clerk was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Her hair was the blondest I'd ever seen, apart from the roots. She glanced away from the TV and said on autopilot, "Hello, can I help you?"
"I'm looking for a room for maybe three or four nights."
"Sure, for how many?"
"Two adults and a child."
"Sure, one moment," and she ran her finger down the register.