A bitter laugh spilled out of her. "I don't have the slightest idea who sent the assassin, but I can tell you one thing for certain. It wasn't the men who shot Frank Abruze and Kirby. No, indeed. They want me alive."
"Baby, you are full of little surprise." Fingers wound tightly around her wrist, I pulled her toward the car and shoved her into it.
I hated to leave Meredith's body where it was, but his killer might still be around, looking for us. I had to get the girl to a safe place as quickly as possible.
"Tell me about it, Sheila," I said as I started up the car.
"You won't be pleased."
"I probably won't. Tell me anyway."
"Frank Abruze didn't pick me up in Las Vegas by accident. I was introduced to him. This man I knew came to see me and said Abruze was in town and liked my type. He said he could arrange for us to get together. Which he did. Only later, after Frank decided he'd like to keep me around, this man got in touch with me again. He said I owed him and he was ready to collect."
"You think he planted you with Abruze so you could spy for him?"
"Something like that. He knew the Mafia was going to deliver $200,000 to Abruze at the cottage. He demanded that I let him know when the money arrived. He said it was going to be a holdup, but one one would get killed. I believed him. I was afraid he'd blow the whistle on me if I didn't do as he said. So I called him when the money got there."
I digested her story as I drove to her house.
"You know what I'm saying, don't you?" she asked in a savage voice. "You know what it meant when I made that call."
I unlocked the door of her house and put on the light in the living room. The Luger in my hand, I glanced around, then walked to the telephone.
"I set Abruze up," Sheila said. "They came and they killed him and his bodyguards and the man named Kirby. They shot them all. It was a slaughter."
"You didn't know what they were going to do," I told her.
I gave the long distance operator an emergency number. No matter where Hawk traveled, and that covered a lot of territory, the girl who answered the telephone at the emergency number knew how to get in touch with him quickly.
Sheila yanked open a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. "I've told myself that. But it doesn't help a hell of a lot. Frank Abruze was a hood, but he treated me decently. I got him killed." She held up the bottle. "Do you want a shot of this?"
I shook my head. I had Hawk's girl on the line. I spoke the code words that assured her I wasn't an imposter, "Aberdeen blue." I told the girl I wanted to speak to the man.
"I'll relay the message, N3," she said in a crisp, efficient voice. "Give me your number and hang up. He'll call back within fifteen minutes."
"Hurry it up. Time is burning my coattails."
I hung up. Sheila had taken the bottle into the kitchen. I followed, and found her standing at the sink crying.
She rubbed at her eyes. She took down a tumbler, poured two fingers of bourbon and downed it like a drink of tea. "This Kirby. How well did you know him?"
"We were friends."
"He picked the wrong day to visit Frank Abruze." She dropped the glass and it splintered on the floor. She buried her face in my shirt front. "Who could have sent the assassin, Ned? The Mafia?"
"Maybe. Maybe they found out you set up their esteemed elder statesman."
"I was afraid they would. I was running from them and from Abruze's killers." Her fingers dug into my sleeves. "You blame me for those four deaths, don't you?"
"Not as much as you blame yourself."
She tugged at me, placed her mouth on mine. Her lips were warm. "Ned, take me to the bedroom."
"I'm waiting for a phone call."
"You've been thinking of making love to me. Do it now. I need it now."
It was true that the thought had occurred to me a few times. Like about a dozen. The first time had been when I saw her in the film Meredith had shot. But there were questions still unanswered between us.
I stroked Sheila's soft blonde hair. "Later."
"It would make me feel better. Please."
"Later," I promised again. To prove I meant it, I lowered my mouth to hers. I felt her moist lips part, felt her darting tongue. My hand crept up to cup her round breast. She was wearing no bra.
When I heard the noise, I wheeled away from her. I hit the switch on the wall and threw on the light at the back door. The yard lay silent. I stepped outside with the Luger ready and listened, testing the air like a hound on the hunt. Something was wrong. I felt it. Sheila had rented a house on a dead end street. Her nearest neighbors were too far away to hear anything less than an explosion. Their lighted windows formed small orange squares in the dense shadows far down the street. Sheila had wanted privacy, but privacy could be a trap. I thought of how easy it would be for someone to corner us here.
The telephone jangled inside. I backed to the door and bolted it, then moved quickly through the kitchen and into the living room. I snatched the receiver off the cradle.
A crisp, efficient female voice said, "Hold the line, N3. Mr. Hawk is coming on."
"What's up, Nick?" he asked.
"I have that package you sent me to pick up. I'm ready to deliver it."
"You got results fast."
"I had some help. Is the Denver location okay?"
"Take her there. I'll call ahead and make the arrangements for you. What's the nature of your opposition, Nick?"
"I can t give you a clear rundown on that yet. But the heat is intense. I believe we may be dealing with two different groups," I said. "Meredith has dropped out."
"Then we shouldn't be wasting time talking. Get out of there." He slammed his receiver down.
"If you want to take any belongings with you, pack them," I told Sheila. "We're leaving. Everything is going to be A-Okay."
"You really believe that, Ned?"
"Of course I do. And I'm a damn good prophet." I was trying to bolster her nerve. Actually, I wouldn't fee! safe until we were surrounded by people I trusted.
"There was another question you should have asked me. When are you going to get around to it?"
"I thought I'd let you tell me your own way," I said.
"All right. Maybe you've wondering why Abruze's killers want me alive? The answer is, they think I have the $200,000."
While she packed, I stood at a front window and watched the dark street through a crack in the blinds. I saw no cars, no lights, no movement. The sound I'd heard earlier could have been a stray dog or cat, a motor coughing in the distance, a dozen things. But my uneasiness persisted.
Sheila stayed in the bedroom too long. I clicked the blind shut and crossed to the bedroom door. I turned the knob and opened the door on darkness.
Wondering why she had turned off the light, I shoved the door wider with my foot. "Sheila?"
"I'm waiting for you, Ned."
Light from the room behind me fell across the bed where she lay. Her nude body was a white blur against the bed's blue cover.
"There's one more thing to be attended to," she said. "Come here and make love to me, darling."
She was beautiful, a work of art.
"It won't take long, sweetheart," she said, her voice low and husky. "I'm so hot I'm burning on a short fuse."
She was blonde all the way, the genuine article. One sleek leg curled and she turned on her side and held out her arms. The light coming through the open door caressed her full breasts.
"For God's sake, Ned, put that gun down and come here."
I took two steps toward her, walking the band of light like an alley cat walking a fence. I could make out only the vague shapes of furniture in shadowed corners of the room. The bathroom door to my left was closed, the windows curtains drawn. Some women liked to make love in pitch black, but I didn't think Sheila would be one of them. A warning was ticking steadily at the back of my mind as I reached the bed.