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Jimmy's gaze shifted from my face to Bibia
Bibia
By the time I hit the street, he was already pounding toward the corner, elbows pumping, gun drawn. The streets were damp, the air filled with a fine mist. I ran after him, plowing straight through a puddle on the walk. In the distance, I could hear tires squeal in the alleyway where the couple must have had a car parked. I reached the intersection moments after Jimmy did. A Ford sedan shot out of the mouth of the alley three doors down. Jimmy, as if moving in slow motion, took a stance and fired. The back window shattered. He fired again. The right rear tire blew and the Ford took a sudden fishtailing detour into a van parked at the curb. There was the gut-wrenching wham! of metal objects colliding. The Ford's front bumper clattered to the pavement, and glass fragments showered down with a delicate tinkling. The few pedestrians within range were ru
"Help," she called hoarsely. She couldn't get any volume in her voice. "Please help this man. Can't anybody help?"
No one moved.
Already, there were sirens. Jimmy Tate lifted his head.
8
I CROSSED TO the Ford. The left rear door was open and Bibia
She shook her head, a hopeless gesture of terror and resignation. "I'm dead meat. I'm dead. This is my fault. There's going to be hell to pay." Her gaze strayed vaguely toward the street corner, where a crowd had gathered. Tears rose in her eyes, not from sorrow as much as from desperation.
I gave her arm a shake. "Who is that?"
"His name is Chago. He's the brother of this guy I was living with before I came up here. He said Raymond sent him up here to bring me back."
"Bullshit, Bibia
"I wish I could have gotten it over with. If anything happens to Chago, Raymond's going to kill me anyway. He'll have to. Like a blood debt. My life's not worth shit."
"I thought Jimmy was the one who shot him. Why is it your fault?"
"What difference does it make? Raymond doesn't care about that. It's my fault I left. It's my fault he had to send Chago up here. It's my fault the car got wrecked. That's how he sees things."
"I take it the blonde was Chago's girlfriend," I said.
"His wife. Her name's Dawna. D-a-w-n-a. Do you love that? Shit, she'll kill me herself if Raymond doesn't kill me first."
Jimmy Tate approached and put his hand on the back of Bibia
She took his hand and pressed it against her cheek. "Oh, God, oh, God… I was scared for you."
He pulled her to her feet and took her in his arms, enfolding her, murmuring against her hair.
"Jesus, what am I going to do?" she wailed.
An emergency vehicle came barreling around the corner, orange light flashing as the siren ground abruptly to a halt. Two paramedics got out, one of them toting a first-aid kit. I rose to my feet, watching over the hood of the Ford as the two of them crossed rapidly to the guy, who was lying facedown on the sidewalk. His lurching journey to the corner had come to a sudden halt. I noticed he'd left a long, smeared trail of blood in his wake like a snail. The woman who knelt beside him was crying uncontrollably. I was certain she was a stranger, only co
One of the paramedics knelt and placed his fingers against the guy's carotid artery, trying to get a pulse. He and the other paramedic exchanged one of those looks that in a television episode replaces six lines of dialogue. Two squad cars swung into view, tires squealing, and pulled up behind the emergency vehicle. A uniformed patrolman got out of the first car and Jimmy Tate walked over to meet him. The beat officer in the second turned out to be a woman, tall, sturdily constructed, her pale hair ski