Page 69 of Hard Hitter
Her Katt Phone rang. The number read PRIVATE CALLER. She hesitated a moment before answering. But it could be the lawyer. “Hello?”
“Ariana.” After eight years, it was easy to pick out Vince’s voice at just one word. “Don’t hang up.”
“Why shouldn’t I?” she yelped. “What thehell, Vince. You got yourself mixed up in some bullshit and now the cops want to talk to me.”
“That will all go away,” he said quickly. “But you have to do this one thing for me.”
“I don’t have to doanything.”
“Yeah, you do. It will take you fifteen minutes, and you’ll never hear from the cops again.”
She wanted to hang up. She really did. But she also wanted to be rid of this hassle. “What is it? No promises.”
“I need to get into the house.”
“Why? I put all your things in the b...”
“Listento me, girl. If you don’t want your boyfriend’s ass hung out to dry.You. Will. Listen.”
He’s not my boyfriend, her brain offered up. But she already knew that arguing the point was a bad idea.
“We’ll set a time,” Vince said, his voice low. “You’ll exit from the front door and leave it open behind you. Take a walk around the neighborhood for fifteen minutes. There’s something I need to retrieve.”
A chill snaked down her back. “What is it?”
“Never you mind. It’s nothing you can find without my help. And if you touch it, everything turns to shit. I promise you do not want any part in this.”
She shivered. “What the hell have you done?”
“Nothing,” he said vehemently. “And I aim to prove it. You screw this up for me, and your boyfriend will regret it.”
“Don’tthreatenme. A judge gave me a restraining order with your name on it.”
“Leave it on the coffee table for me,” he snarled. “I need in there. Fifteen minutes. After eight years, you can give me fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
When he spoke again it was between clenched teeth. “I don’t have time for you tothink about it.”
“Yeah? I’m done being bullied by you.” Feeling absolutely crazy, she ended the call.
It rang again a moment later. She tossed the phone onto the bed as if it was a venomous snake.
If she thought she’d been tense earlier, she’d been wrong. There was nothing like wondering what awful thing Vince had hidden in her home.
She did the obvious thing and began ransacking closets. Standing on chairs, she reacquainted herself with everything on the top shelves of her few closets. But there was nothing terrifying to be found. She turned up nothing more interesting than the term paper she’d written while studying anatomy for her massage therapy certificate.
By nine o’clock she felt both paranoid and irritated. Maybe a better woman would have plopped down on her yoga mat and meditated, but she didn’t think she could relax in this house. That asshole had ruined her peaceagain.
Ari put on her coat and tossed a toothbrush into her bag. Then, feeling paranoid, she left an upstairs lamp on and tiptoed down her own stairs in the dark. In the kitchen she grabbed the pastry bag full of whoopie pies off the counter. Then, in the living room, she peered out onto the street, taking care not to ruffle the curtains.
No van. No Vince.
Quickly, she left by the front door, locking the place securely behind her. Walking fast, she headed for the more populous part of her neighborhood, stopping at the liquor store on Jay Street. She bought a bottle of good tequila and her favorite margarita mix. Then she called Becca from the checkout counter.
“Hi,” she said while handing over her credit card. “Can I come over? It’s an emergency.”
“What kind of emergency?” Becca asked over the sounds of a baby crying in the background.
