Twenty minutes later, Renee pulled into the parking lot of Timberlake Apartments. As she drove down the east side of the complex, she remembered how excited she’d been the day she moved in. It had been such a step up from the vermin-infested rat hole she’d just moved out of, the only place she’d been able to afford at age eighteen on the meager salary and tips she earned at Denny’s. This apartment had a built-in microwave and mini blinds and carpet with no stains, and even though the other tenants weren’t the cream of society, at least they weren’t trying to sell her drugs in the lobby or throwing up in the hall.
Now, six years later, she could see that it really wasn’t the palace it had felt like back then—the parking lot was potholed, the trim needed paint, and the awnings along the front of the complex were tattered and faded. But still she loved it, because it had been the first tangible proof she’d ever had that hard work paid off.
But as of today, she’d never be coming back there again.
She parked John’s car as close to Paula’s apartment as she could, then checked the area for any signs of life. Fortunately, the only activity she saw was a stray cat peeking out from behind a shrub and a flock of starlings chirping in the branches of a nearby live oak tree.
She got out of the car, slipped through the lobby door, and trotted up the back stairs. She knocked softly on 214, praying Paula was home, because she had no idea what she was going to do if she wasn’t.
Finally, after so much time had passed that Renee had almost given up hope, Paula opened the door. The moment she saw Renee, her sleepy eyes snapped open wide.
“Renee!”
They fell into each other’s arms, hugging the breath out of each other. Then Paula took her by the shoulders. “You should be in New Orleans by now! What happened?”
Renee shook her head. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“No! You have to tell me. I’ve been so worried about you. I have to know what’s been going on.”
Renee sat down and gave Paula the Reader’s Digest version of what had happened since they’d last talked, when Renee had been on John’s phone, sitting in that McDonald’s drive-through. Paula’s eyes grew bigger and bigger as the story progressed, especially when she told her about John taking her to his house. Renee related the story as matter-of-factly as she could, leaving out the part about how John had made love to her and then proceeded to slice her heart into ribbons. That wasn’t an issue now. It was over, and she refused to think about it anymore.
“Wait a minute,” Paula said. “You left this guy handcuffed to his bed?”
“I had to. He would have taken me to jail. You know where I’m coming from. I couldn’t let him do that.”
“Are you sure he won’t help you anymore?”
Renee felt a twinge of uncertainty, and for a split second she pictured herself going back to him, slipping into his arms, and feeling warm and safe all over again…
No. That was impossible. He didn’t believe her. Not anymore. Her only chance of staying out of jail was to get out of town.
“I’m sure. But you can help me. I need money. I don’t have my purse, my credit cards—anything.”
“Of course! I think I have at least a few hundred dollars.” She grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter, pulled out her wallet, and fished through it, looking confused. “I thought I had more than this—oh! I forgot! I paid for groceries with cash. I have only about thirty dollars.”
Renee slumped with disappointment. She was going to need a lot more than that.
“Renee?”
Renee spun around, and her heart leaped crazily. Tom was standing in the doorway between the hall and the living room.
She turned back to Paula. “You didn’t tell me Tom was here!”
“Now, calm down,” Paula said. “He won’t tell anyone you’re here.”
Tom ventured into the room, wearing nothing but a pair of blue plaid boxers. He had a drowsy, quizzical look on his face, his surfer-boy blond hair standing up Don King-style on top of his head, making him seem even taller than his usual six feet.
“We need to get some money together for Renee so she can get out of town,” Paula told Tom.
“What’s she doing in town?”
“That’s none of your business,” Renee said sharply, shooting Paula the evil eye so she might actually consider not telling him the whole ugly story.
“Hey, take it easy, will you?” Tom said. “It’s just that I thought you’d be in New Orleans by now.”
Renee let out an exasperated sigh. Why had Paula told Tom her destination? The more people who knew, the more danger she’d be in.
“Renee, it’s okay,” Paula repeated. “Tom, do you have any money with you right now? Anything at all?”
He frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe a few bucks.”
“Do you mind loaning it to Renee?”
“Sure. I’ll see what I’ve got.”
Tom retrieved his wallet, and it was no surprise to Renee when he produced a paltry nine dollars. Paula gave him an approving smile, as if it had been nine hundred dollars he’d handed over.
As Renee took the cash, Tom sighed with disappointment. “I’m sorry it’s not more,” he said, and for a moment Renee believed he really would have given her nine hundred if only he’d had it.
“Renee?”
When she heard yet another voice behind her, Renee wheeled around, and her jaw dropped when she saw who was standing there.
“Steve!” Paula said. “What are you doing here?”
“The movie ran pretty late, and you’ve got a spare bedroom. I didn’t think you’d mind.” He turned to Renee. “Shouldn’t you be in New Orleans by now?”
Renee shot Paula a look of total exasperation. “Is there anybody who doesn’t know where I was going?”
“What do you think I’m going to do?” Steve asked. “Tell the cops?”
Renee wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t. Especially after that little matter of her knee in his groin.
“Of course he wouldn’t,” Paula told Renee, then turned to Steve. “Renee needs money. Do you have any?”
“Sorry. I’m all tapped out.”
Renee let out a breath of disgust. “What’s the matter? Did you pick the wrong horse last night and lose everything but the fillings in your teeth?”
Steve actually got a hurt look on his face, though it was hard to tell through all the cuts and bruises. It wasn’t the first time Renee had seen him looking like that. Bar fights again, no doubt. When was he ever going to get a real job?
“Look,” Steve said. “I know you’re under a lot of pressure here, but do you have to be that way? I really would like to help you. I just don’t have any money on me right now.”
To Renee’s surprise, he sounded absolutely sincere, and she felt a sudden flash of guilt. Both he and Tom were being nice to her when she needed help, and all she’d done was snap at them. Right then she could use all the friends she could get.
Renee let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry, Steve. I just…I just can’t believe I’m in this mess.”
“I can’t believe it, either,” Steve said. “If only I’d seen you sooner on that night, I could have been your alibi and you’d never have gotten arrested in the first place.”
She was surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “There’s nothing we can do about that now.”
“If it ever comes down to it, I’ll testify for you. You know I will.”
“It wouldn’t do any good. But…thanks.”
“Hey! What the hell is she doing here?”
Renee whipped around once again to see a cheap-looking woman standing in the doorway. A faint shadow of mascara ringed her eyes, and her chemically altered blonde hair was scattered over her head like a Halloween fright wig.
Rhonda.
This couldn’t be happening. That hallway of Paula’s was like one of those little cars at the circus that clowns keep piling out of. Just when you thought another one couldn’t possibly be in there, out he came.
Rhonda flounced into the room wearing nothing but a midriff T-shirt, a pair of bikini underwear, and a hateful sneer. Renee slumped back onto the sofa, wishing she had a handful of aspirin and a good, stiff drink. “Is there anyone left on Earth who doesn’t know I’m here?”
“Renee, it’s okay,” Paula said. “We’re all your friends. We know you didn’t do it.”
“I’m not so sure she didn’t.”
Four pairs of angry eyes turned on Rhonda.
“Well, I’m not! I mean, the evidence said she did it. Who are we to think otherwise?”
“Rhonda!” Steve said.
She thrust her chin in the air. “I’m entitled to my opinion.” She turned to Renee. “And why aren’t you in New Orleans, anyway?”
Renee buried her face in her hands, her exasperation hitting an all-time high. She might as well pass out United States maps with her picture stuck to it and a big red circle around New Orleans.
“I mean, if you’re gonna be on the run, you need to do a better job of it than this.”
“Shut up, Rhonda,” Steve said.
“She makes a lousy fugitive, don’t you think?”
“I said shut up!”
Rhonda’s eyes narrowed with anger. “I should have known you’d take up for her.” She spun around and stomped back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
“I’m sorry, Renee,” Steve said weakly. “Rhonda’s really not all that bad. She’s just a little jealous.”
They all looked at each other in a way that said Steve had understated both issues. Rhonda was a lot jealous, and she really was all that bad.
“She thinks Steve is still in love with you,” Paula explained.
“That’s ridiculous,” Renee said, but when she glanced at Steve, his expression said maybe it wasn’t so ridiculous after all.
“That night of the robbery,” he said. “If only you’d have stayed to talk to me, none of this would have happened.”
What he really meant was if only you’d given in to me. But she refused to have any regrets about that. Steve had been pushy and obnoxious that night, and keeping her distance from him had been the right thing to do. It was just too bad that it had to make everything else turn out wrong.
“I really don’t want to discuss that,” she told him.
“I just wanted you to know how I feel. After all, I may never see you again.”
She’d assumed that Steve would never forgive her for planting her knee in his groin. But there he was acting as if none of that mattered, even offering to testify on her behalf, and it made tears come to her eyes. Not that she’d ever want Steve again, not like that, but she was glad to feel some of the old animosity fade away. Maybe she was even wrong about Tom. He seemed to make Paula happy, and wasn’t that the most important thing?
Now, Rhonda was another story. For the rest of eternity, she intended to remember her for exactly what she was—a sleazy blonde drug-addicted bimbo.
“Wait a minute!” Paula said. “What am I thinking? I can get money from an ATM!” She grabbed Renee’s arm. “I’ll go there with you right now. It’s too early for the bank to be open, but I’ll squeeze all the money I can out of the machine. It should let me have five hundred, at least.”
“Oh, Paula,” Renee said. “Thank you.”
“Which one are you going to?” Steve asked. “The one on Eighteenth and Meadowlake seems to always break down. I’ve had better luck with the one by the drugstore on Harris Avenue. The one in that strip shopping center.”
“Okay, we’ll go there,” Paula said, then turned to Renee. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” she said, sniffling a little as she stood up. “Thanks, guys. For everything.”
“I’d better go see about Rhonda,” Steve said, looking as if that were the last thing in the world he wanted to do. He gave Renee a hug, then looked at her sadly. “Good-bye,” he murmured. “And good luck.”
He headed off toward the bedroom, but at the last minute he veered into the kitchen instead. Renee didn’t blame him. He probably wanted to get a cup of coffee under his belt before facing that shrew again.
Ten minutes later, Renee pulled up in front of the strip shopping center and parked John’s Explorer next to an aging blue Chrysler. Paula pulled up next to her in her car, and they both got out. Renee was dismayed to see that despite the early hour, two people were in line ahead of them for the ATM.
They stood over to one side, Renee shivering a little in the cool morning breeze. Paula fingered her card nervously, while Renee merely tried to look inconspicuous. She was anxious to get on the road, because she needed to be a long way from Tolosa before she got Sandy to turn John loose. She didn’t want him to be in those cuffs any longer than he had to be.
That’s because you still care about him.
It was true. She couldn’t deny it. But as sharp as the feeling was now, it would fade, and the pain would go away. It was just a matter of time.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the last man grabbed his receipt and walked away. Paula and Renee hurried up to the machine. Paula stuck her card in, punched a few buttons, and a moment later the machine spit out five one-hundred-dollar bills. She scooped them out of the cash tray and gave them to Renee, then tucked her card and receipt into the pocket of her purse. Renee gave her a big hug.
“Thanks, Paula. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”
“Just give me a call when you get where you’re going, okay? I want to know you’re all right.”
“It may be a while.”
She looked at Paula a long time. Her warm hazel eyes had filled with tears, and Renee wondered if she’d ever have a friend like her again—somebody who accepted people for who they were and loved them, anyway. Tom was probably the luckiest man in the world, and Renee hoped to hell he knew it.
Finally she backed away. “I have to go now.”
Paula nodded.
Renee got into John’s car and pulled out of the parking space, refusing to look back at Paula, keeping her mind on getting out of town instead. When she got to the street, she turned right and headed for Highway 4, which would take her to the freeway. Tears clouded her eyes. She blinked rapidly, then wiped her eyes on her sleeve, trying to clear her sight. The last thing she needed was to be blinded by tears and end up wrapping John’s car around a telephone pole.
The light turned red at Harris and Twelfth, and she pulled up behind another car and waited. She leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes, trying to get a grip on her frazzled nerves. By the time she made it to the freeway, she’d be calmer. She’d be able to decide which way she should go. Everything was going to be all right. As long as she kept her cool, everything was going to be all right.
Then, for some reason, she got that prickly sensation along the back of her neck that made her feel as if she were being watched. She turned her gaze to her left, to the car that waited at the light beside hers—a brand-new red Blazer, hot off the showroom floor. Behind the darkly tinted glass, she could just make out the figure of a man, a very large man, staring in her direction. Then his front passenger window came down and she saw his face clearly—that hideously ugly nightmare of a face with a big white bandage slapped across his broken nose.
“Hey, there, sweet thing,” he called out. “Long time no see.”