Like a Knife (15 page)

Nick made an unsuccessful grab for the boy as Frank shot to his feet, overturning the gym bag. The printout fell to the ground.

"Goddamn!" Frank spluttered more curses, tangled in the clothes spilling out from the bag. He looked from them to the disappearing boy, back to the bag, clearly not knowing which to tackle first.

"Be quiet," Rennie said to Frank. "Send the men after him."

But Nick leaped first. He dashed off madly in the direction Isaac had gone and ran smack into a noisy family in the middle of the patio. Cokes, sandwiches, and nachos flew into the air. Fists and voices rose.

"Where are you going?"

"What do you think you're doing?"

Move! Get out of my way!

But an elderly woman dressed in black planted herself in front of him and berated him loudly in Spanish.

"Lo siento,
I'm sorry.
Ym
sorry!" He shoved a handful of money at the family and extricated himself.

Racing to the edge of the courtyard, he glanced in all directions.

No sign of either Rachel or Isaac.
Dammit!

But Renrae's men scrambled everywhere. Frank must have called them in while Nick had been arguing with Grandma.

He was screwed. Now that Rennie had the printout and Isaac was on the loose, Nick was dispensable. An open target, he'd be dodging Rennie's men with every step.

Just then, a tiny black head appeared in the crowd, heading toward the nearest exhibit building. Was that him? Nick hoped so. If he didn't get to Isaac before Rennie, the kid would be lost forever. He'd already lost one kid to Spier; he'd rather die than lose another.

He dove ahead, keenly aware that he was making it easy for one of the cohorts to earn his bonus. Spotting a zoo worker, he spun her around. "What's inside that building?" With a frantic gesture, he indicated the structure ahead.

Startled, she blurted out, "The Tropic Zone. It's got-" But Nick had already dashed off.

Plunging ahead, he ran into the building, stopping for a quick look over his shoulder just before entering.

He'd been spotted by the man in the sports coat. The one who, along with the "derelict," had helped Frank scrape up Martin's body last night.

Sports Coat ran toward the building, too.

Nick cursed and ducked inside. Immediately, hot, steamed air assaulted him, and he broke out into a sweat. Towering trees amid heavy jungle overhung the walkway on either side. Birds and monkeys chattered, combining with the din of the mob inside.

He turned around and saw Sports Coat push his way past several people and head right toward Nick.

Without thinking, Nick vaulted over the waist-high Plexiglas that separated the path from the jungle and plunged into the thick growth, Sports Coat on his tail.

A bird with a lemon-yellow face and a huge black beak flew at him. Nick ducked and almost fell flat on his face. As he broke his fall, the muffled whiz of a silenced bullet shot past where his head would have been.

Jesus, was the man crazy? Did he want all of NYPD down here? Stooping low, Nick darted toward a tree with a trunk wide enough to provide cover. Another bullet zipped past where he'd just been. Damn, that must be some bonus Rennie promised.

Throwing himself on the ground, Nick rolled toward the end of the rain forest. With a dull thud, another bullet landed near his shoulder.

He leaped over the glass
partition.

Hit the walkway.

Someone gasped in surprise, but Nick scurried away before the person could say more and lost himself in the crowd.

Breathing hard, he sped toward the exit and barely paused to give the area outside a quick pan. For the moment he'd lost Sports Coat, but the boy was gone too. Racing, Nick darted up the hill that held the next exhibits, saw otters and water fowl, but no sign of Isaac. Running on, Nick came to the penguin house and dashed inside.

Sweat cooled on his skin. He hung back a minute to let his eyes adjust to the dark, and when they had, he scanned the interior.

If the boy was here, finding him wasn't g»ing to be easy. Not in the dark. And not in the crowd bunched up against the tank.

Starting on one end, he slowly moved toward the other. Backs of heads, sides of faces. Short kids, tall kids. Kids on the ground, kids held in arms.

Then, at the very front of the farthest edge, a small, black head.

Nick's heart beat faster.

Could be.

If so, the boy was clever. He'd mashed himself in tightly, surrounded by as many people as possible.

Nick started toward him to get a closer look. As luck would have it, the boy turned his head. Greenish light from the glassed-in penguin case reflected off him, and once again Nick saw the black eyes and elfin face of Shelley's son.

In that instant of recognition, the boy also saw Nick.

Fear washed across Isaac's face.

He's as afraid of you as he is of Rennie or Frank or any of the others.

A pang of sadness went through Nick, but he hardened himself against it. The kid was right; he should be afraid.

As if Isaac had heard, he ducked down, disappearing into the crowd.

Nick darted right, then left. He was about to plunge into the crowd when the hard edge of a weapon stopped him.

"Slowly now," a voice whispered in his fear. "We don't want anyone to get hurt in here." The gun poked into Nick's back, pushing him toward the exit.

Clumps of people broke off from the crowd, also heading for the door. A few families, a strolling couple, an elderly man.

And in the midst of them, Isaac.

Nick stopped short. The man behind bumped into him. "What are you doing?" The gunman's voice was low and rough.

Nick whirled around. Not Sports Coat. Whoever he was, Nick didn't recognize him.

"Why don't you shoot me here, where it's dark." He smiled pleasantly. "Better chance of getting away."

The man shielded the gun from the crowd. "Are you crazy? I can't do it here-too many witnesses. Now move."

Nick thought it over, giving Isaac more time to get away. "Okay, but it's your funeral." He turned back around. Isaac was nowhere in sight.
Good boy.

Just outside the building, Nick stopped again.

"What is it this time?" the man growled.

"Nothing much." The knife he'd hidden in his sleeve slid into his palm.

"Keep moving."

Nick took a step, then without warning, spun around. The knife flashed, slicing open the man's gun hand.

A yelp. The man dropped the gun and clutched his bleeding hand.

Nick put his foot on top of the fallen weapon. He smiled and waved away a passerby who slowed down to see what the commotion was about.

When the passerby had gone, Nick picked up the gun. It was a .44 Magnum Desert Eagle with a ten-inch barrel. Scoped, it would have been accurate to 100 yards. Lucky it wasn't scoped.

"What were you expecting," Nick said, "an army?"

The gunman glared, and Nick held the gun at his side, muzzle down, while he considered what to do.

"I told myself I wouldn't kill anyone I didn't have to, so don't make me shoot you." He motioned with his head, indicating the small space behind the penguin house. The man shuffled toward it. "On your knees."

"You bastard. You said you weren't going to use that."

"I said I wasn't going to shoot you." Nick brought the weapon down on the man's head. "I didn't say I wasn't going to use it."

Nick stashed the Magnum beneath his jacket and dragged the gunman beneath a bush. Taking off in a lop-ing jog, Nick once more surveyed the area for a glimpse of the dark-haired boy.

Fifteen minutes later, Nick spotted him heading for a set of steps that led to a high viewing area. But the boy wasn't the only person Nick saw.

Rachel was right behind Isaac.

And they were both moving toward Frank.

* * *

Rachel lunged at Isaac's back, but the little boy had too much of a lead, and her fingers slashed empty air. Unable to reach him, she followed up the stairway and stood rooted to the steps as he ran right into Frank.

With a satisfied grunt, the man scooped him up. Isaac yelled and wiggled; Frank almost dropped him.

Horrified, she pushed her way forward. She'd been trying to formulate a plan ever since the boy ran away. Her position on the cafeteria patio had given her a clear view of the direction he'd taken, but she'd lost him in the crowd. When she spotted him again, he'd been one step ahead, close enough to see, never close enough to catch.

Now, she watched Isaac slap and kick at Frank. Her legs felt as though they moved in slow motion, anchored with lead weights. Would she ever reach him?

All of a sudden, Isaac buried his face against Frank's, as if embracing him. Frank let out a roar of pain and dropped the boy like a hot coal. A clear set of teeth marks embossed Frank's cheek.

Face twisted in fury, he lunged for the boy.

"No!" she cried out without thinking.

Frank looked up.

Oh, God.
Was Frank one of the men who'd kidnapped her? Would he recognize her?

He glanced away, down to where Isaac had been. What had seemed an eternity was only a few seconds. Seconds Isaac had used to duck beneath Frank's legs and disappear into the crowd.

Frank cursed. He elbowed his way into the dense thicket of people.

"Hey, what d'you think you're doing?" Angry parents shoved him back, spitting him out almost at her feet.

Heart in her throat, Rachel pivoted and buried her nose in the tote, pretending to rummage around for something. Easing behind him, she gently squeezed her way into the crowd.

Laughter greeted her, and the excited sound of children's voices. She looked over to one side. Below, a carefully landscaped habitat of rock and water housed two polar bears.

"Excuse me." She maneuvered through the crowd. "My son is up ahead." She stepped on someone's foot. "Sorry-"

When at last she discovered him, Isaac was at the far end, edging away. She called to him, and his head lifted. He turned, hope flaring into his eyes.

"Mama?"

Eagerly, he moved toward her voice, but when he saw who knelt down, he stopped short.

"Hello, Isaac." She kept her voice soft and gentle. "My name is Rachel, and look what I have for you." She pulled his bear from her tote bag.

He stared longingly at the toy but made no move to take it. Emotion squeezed her chest. He was so little, and so scared.

"Here." She placed the bear in his arms. He buried his face in its fur, and Rachel pulled him toward her into the crowd. He stiffened the minute she touched him. "It's okay," she whispered. "I won't hurt you, I promise."

"Are you taking me back to the bad men?" His voice was small and fearful.

She stroked the hair away from his forehead. "No, honey, we're going to get you away from them."

"Are you taking me to my mommy?"

A wave of sadness rushed over her. "Oh, Isaac, I wish I could."

"Mama went away," he said unhappily.

"I know. But she sent me to find you. That's why I have your bear, see?" He watched her, unconvinced. "Look what else I have for you. Reach into my
bag and see."

Isaac pulled out the T-shirt and ball cap she had hurriedly purchased at a souvenir stand.

"Let's see if they fit. Can you put it on yourself?" Rachel looked around. Kneeling, she was surrounded by a forest of legs. She prayed the thicket of limbs would provide the cover they needed. "Good job. You're a real big boy, aren't you?" The hat covered his dark hair, the bright turquoise T-shirt transformed the white one he'd been wearing. Not a great disguise, but it was the best she could do. "Ready?"

He nodded and Rachel picked him up. Still clinging to his bear, he put his arms around her neck. "That's right, hold on tight. The bad men are out there, and we may have to run. Can you hold on?" He nodded. "Good boy."

Searching in all directions, Rachel slowly stood, Isaac in her arms. Careful to keep her back to where Frank might be, she moved to the left. If he saw them at all, she hoped he would only see a woman with a small boy. A boy in a ball cap and a T-shirt who looked nothing like the boy he was looking for.

She laid Isaac's head on her shoulder. "Close your eyes, Isaac. Pretend you're sleeping. Can you do that?" He nodded against her neck. "Your mommy would be very proud of you."

Head burrowed against her, he held the bear so it covered half his face. She hoped the position would hide him enough. Forcing herself to move normally, she walked toward the steps.

The set of stairs was the longest Rachel had ever descended. With every step down, the bottom receded farther away. When her foot finally hit the last stair, she closed her eyes in relief.

Now they just had to get to the car.

"I see you're okay."

Rachel turned. Gasped. The man from the bench. The derelict.

He was coherent enough to stuff Martin into a body bag last night

"Y-yes," she said.
Please earth, open up and swallow him.
"My son, though... I think he's had a rough
evening"

The man laughed and started to reply. But instead of words, only a small grunt came out. As if her wish had been granted, he melted into a puddle at her feet. Amazed, she looked up and found herself facing Nick.

"Come on, let's go."

"What... what did you do?" She gazed in shock at the man on the ground.

"Never mind." Nick pulled her along. She saw him shove something farther up his sleeve as a crowd began to gather. "Just keep going. I'm right behind you."

They would have gotten clean away if Isaac hadn't opened his eyes and looked right at Nick.

The moment he did, the boy started screaming.

"What is it? What's the matter?"
Rachel hugged him tight. "It's all right, I've got you. No one's going to hurt you."

Her words were swallowed by his screeching. Wailing in terror, he kicked and struggled, so out of control she couldn't hold him.

Nick took the child, shoving him roughly against his chest. "Shut your mouth," he growled, "or I'll shut it for you."

Holding Isaac tight, he began to run.