Hard News

25    
     
    THE ONE QUESTION ON HER MIND: COULD COURTNEY swim?
    Rune could—about as well as any Midwest girl who never saw a body of water with waves until she was ten.
    Hell, she could just hold on to Courtney—picturing her now, screaming and waving her arms in panic—and kick to the far pier. How many yards was that? Maybe thirty or forty?
    And, God, the Hudson was gross and yucky …
    But that didn’t matter. If they didn’t get out now they’d be dead in three minutes.
    She tore the door to the storeroom open and lunged, vaguely aware of a sudden rush of activity behind her in the living room. Footsteps, voices. She slammed the door and turned the skeleton key lock. “Court, wake up.”
    The little girl didn’t stir.
    Rune pressed her back against the thick wood and began to untie her boots, which were laced up tight through dozens of eyelets. She knew she’d drown if she didn’t get them off. She shouted, “Courtney.”
    “Juice,” a weak voice said.
    “Wake up!”
    Maybe some of the toys would float. There was an anemic balloon tied onto the wall. Rune grabbed it and looped it around the girl’s wrist. “I’m sleepy,” Courtney said.
    Rune had one boot off. She started on the second.
    With a huge snap of cracking wood the door crashed inward, catching Rune on the shoulder. She flew into the far wall and lay still. Jack Nestor stepped into the room, narrowing his eyes against the darkness. He looked around and walked toward Rune.
    When he got to her she sprang.
    It wasn’t much of an assault. The only damage: Her shoulder caught him in the cheek and he jerked back, blinking in surprise, as a tooth cut into his tongue or the flesh of his mouth. “Little shit!” he muttered. She pounded him with her hands, knotted into small fists. But he was resilient as hard rubber. And strong too. He just picked her up, stuffed her under his arm and carried her out into the living room.
    She screamed and twisted and kicked.
    Nestor was laughing hard. “Whoa, this one’s a hellcat.” He dropped her into a wrought-iron butterfly chair. She kicked him in the thigh. Flinching, he said angrily, “Settle down.”
    “You son of a bitch!” She leapt out of the chair, making for Boggs. Nestor roared, “Settle down!” He grabbed her like a receiver snagging a sixty-yard bomb and tossed her into the chair again. She bounced once, the breath knocked out of her. She wiped at her tears. “You bastard.” Looking into Randy Boggs’s evasive eyes.
    Boggs said to Nestor, “You got yourself wheels?”
    “Sure do. Some kind of Hertz shit. But it’ll do. Damn, you look good, for somebody who ain’t seen but prison sunlight for three years.”
    Boggs said, “You look ugly as you ever did.”
    Nestor laughed and the men did a little good-natured sparring. Boggs landed a left hook on Nestor’s chest and the fat man said, “You prick, you always were fast. You hit like a pussy but you’re fast.”
    “You’ll see a bruise the shape of my knuckles there, come morning.”
    Nestor looked around. “We gotta blow this joint.”
    “I’ll vote for that.”
    Rune said to Boggs, “You did it? You really did it?”
    Nestor was speaking to Boggs. “Let’s take care of business and get on our way.” He pulled the gun out of his waistband and glanced at Rune.
    The smile left Boggs’s face. “Whatcha aiming to do?”
    Nestor shrugged. “Pretty clear, wouldn’t you say? Don’t see we have much choice.”
    Boggs was looking down, avoiding both their eyes. “Well, Jack, you know, I wouldn’t be too happy, you did that.”
    Rune stared at the gun, afraid to look into Nestor’s face. He seemed to be the sort who would kill you sooner if you looked him in the eye.
    “Randy, we gotta. She knows everything.”
    “I know, but, hell, I wouldn’t want that to happen. It just wouldn’t be right, you know?”
    “‘Right’?”
    Her hands were shaking. Sweat popped out on her forehead, and she felt a trickle run from under her arms to her waist.
    Boggs said, “The thing is, she’s got a kid. A little girl.”
    Nestor’s face darkened. “A baby?”
    “This little kid.”
    “In there?” Nestor looked at the storeroom. “I didn’t see her.”
    “You can’t do the kid, Jack. I won’t let you do that.”
    Meaning it’s okay if he shoots
me?
Rune began to cry more seriously. Nestor was saying, “I wouldn’t do a kid anyway. You know me better than that, Randy. After all we’ve been through, I hope you