Marked Masters (15 page)

As much as I wanted to steal the paintings
or just stand and bask in their beauty, I knew I needed to get out
of there. I couldn't trust Tony B to let me go. Between his veiled
remark about the snuffbox and this revelation, I knew about murder
and theft on a grand scale. And even with the Danger Twins in
custody, Tony B's lawyers would have a difficult time
disassociating their client from my allegations.

The room had been carefully constructed to
maintain proper temperature and humidity. There were no other doors
or windows, so tunneling through the air-conditioning system seemed
my only option. The air vent was on the far wall and up near the
ceiling. I made a few mental calculations, then from my
Fendi-f-of-goodies, I extracted a small flathead screwdriver and
scooted a nearby ugly brown chair a bit closer to the potential
escape route. A few quick turns of each screw and I could see
inside.

The space would be tight but worked in my
favor, since I didn't think any of Tony B's muscle team could
follow. However, while I needed to reach the vent, I didn't want
them figuring out right away how I escaped. Necessitating
precautions. I moved the heavy chair back to its original place. I
would balance on the upholstered arms to reach the vent. At least
that was the plan. Balance would be key, but the chair was heavy,
probably to hold the big guys who used this room, and likely
offered enough counterbalance for my purpose.

Although it took precious minutes, I took a
few additional precautions. I put the loose screws back into their
holes in the vent cover and pulled a strip of super adhesive
squares from my purse. These were the adhesives I used in my
extracurricular activities when I needed to affix motion sensors to
tip me about prospective hazards. I hoped the strong squares would
help camouflage me from the real and present danger I knew would
come soon.

Each adhesive was placed on the vent side of
the frame, at each point of a screw. Not just to hold the now
cockeyed screws in place to hide the holes, but also to hopefully
act as a temporary way to attach the frame back over my escape
hatch. Thinking about that phrase made me wonder about the packet
Nico had given me some hours ago and how he'd used those same two
words. There was no time to investigate, but hopefully he'd have
the opportunity to brief me on it later, as promised.

I slid the frame into the vent, back side up
as it lay on the tunnel floor, and pushed back enough to give
myself a landing zone at the entrance to the opening. The strap of
the Fendi went around my neck, leaving my hands free, so the bag
would not hinder me as I crawled through the aluminum maze. It took
more effort than I'd planned to balance on the chair arm, and the
purse did threaten my center of gravity. I took a few deep breaths.
This was no more tricky than some of the jobs I'd successfully
accomplished and much less risky than most. In those cases,
however, I'd only faced being unmasked for my efforts and called a
criminal instead of a "reclamation angel." In the present
circumstances, I likely risked losing my life. I knew too much, and
even if I didn't yet understand exactly what I knew, Tony B knew
that I knew it, which made all the difference. He could lie about
replacing my phone all he wanted, but I wasn't fooled. Someone
killed Tina, and since he had the snuffbox, I had to assume Tony B
had blood on his hands in a significant way.

Worst of all, I had to accomplish the feat
without making any noise. One clunk, a single thump, and I could
have My Favorite Thugs barreling through the door.

I mentally calculated height and trajectory
from my tentative stance on the chair arm. I steadied myself and
mentally prepped for the leap and swing toward my only possible
exit to freedom.

At the last minute, I stopped and slid off
my heels. I risked cutting my foot on the exposed metal rim, but
barefoot and able to grab with my toes seemed worth the gamble. The
stilettos went into the Fendi, the heels not quite making full
clearance.

I knew I'd taken too long when I heard
laughter emanate through the wall from the other side of the room.
Time for action.

Leaning in, I grasped the framework as
tightly as I could, then jumped from the chair, and swung my legs
up and through. Made it. Now to hide the evidence. Since I was feet
first and on my back, I had to move over the vent cover without
being able to look at it. A couple of the adhesives caught me, but
overall things went well. I twisted carefully to keep my movements
quiet.

Lock picks doubled as an extension of my
fingers, helping me reach and lift the vent cover by running the
picks through the skinny rows of vent openings. I used my versatile
tools as a kind of handle device to guide the cover back. Then I
used the picks to pull back on the cover and at the same time put
as much pressure as I could against the adhesive to get it to again
at least look in place on the wall.

Finishing with seconds to spare, I didn't
have room enough to turn around, so I crawled backward into the
tunnel. I checked over my shoulder to view my options. At the first
intersection, I was able to adjust to crawl naturally. About the
same time, I heard the cursing from behind me. I moved a bit faster
since distance was now at a greater premium than silence.

Near an office on the opposite side of the
building, I found a stash of what appeared to be cocaine, and a
loose vent cover. With a couple of kicks, I had the cover off, and
I dropped into an area behind the desk. I started to grab the phone
to call Nico, willing to take the risk a switchboard light
somewhere would give Tony B my location, but a surprising thing
happened. My Fendi started to hum.

When I pulled out the packet Nico gave to me
earlier, I found a burner phone on one end. I ducked down behind
the desk and answered.

"Where the hell are you?" Jack bellowed. "We
found pieces of your phone behind the gallery, and Nico said I
could reach you at this number."

"Shh," I whispered. "I'm in Tony Berintino's
office building. I was kidnapped by two of his thugs and brought
here. I'm going to try to make it to the roof and use the fire
escape to get away. Get Nico to track my location from this line
and meet me on the street under the fire escape."

"Okay, but be careful. The wind has really
whipped up. Are you sure you don't want us to send in the
police?"

I thought about the snuffbox hidden in the
Fendi and knew I needed to get away ASAP. Cops could take too long,
especially with the kind of influence Tony B probably controlled.
"No. No cops. If you aren't there when I get down, I'll run to the
nearest busy public place I can find."

"Nico says we're two minutes from your
location."

"Good. I'm heading for the roof now.
Good-bye."

"Laurel!"

"What?" I whispered back.

"Just…oh, God…be bloody careful."

"This wasn't my fault, Jack."

"It never is."

I cut the line before either of us said any
more. There wasn't time to waste. I slipped out of the office and
into the hallway, ducking into recesses whenever I heard voices. I
pulled a dental mirror I kept in my bag and used it to check around
corners before I took the risk of moving. When I passed a fire
extinguisher cabinet and alarm, I thought for a second about
pulling the red bar. But doing so offered to give away my location
without providing any additional insurance. I'd already told the
guys not to send police. Having a team of firefighters storm the
building meant the same risk. Tony B likely had the pull to get me
arrested and walk out of this mess without a scratch.

Danger Twin number two almost caught me
once, but I slipped into a supply closet he'd just searched, and
that's where I struck gold. A diagram on the narrow wall showed I
was a short jog away from the stairs to the roof. I slid back out
of the door and used the dental mirror to watch both Danger Twins
enter separate hallways and disappear from sight.

The door was six feet away. I ran, still
barefoot, and twisted the lever to open the door. There was no
sound as the door opened, and I slipped into the stairwell, but as
I pushed against the door to hurry the hydraulic closer, a
high-pitched squeal sounded.

I left it closing on its own and flew up the
stairs, hearing my pursuers thunder down the hallway.

The weather was wicked as
I broke through the exit to the roof. I felt like I'd entered a
wind tunnel and had to lie against the door to get it latched
again. A dozen steel rods lay discarded six feet away. I dove for
one and shoved it under the doorknob of the roof access mere
seconds before the thugs hit the heavy door. I bounced my weight on
the bar one more time for luck. The knob wiggled in obvious anger
but could not be turned.

I ignored the risk to my
feet and did a quick jog around the perimeter, matching my pace to
the pounding rhythms my enemies made trying to reach me. The fire
escape was a no-go. Tony B called in reinforcements. A van sat just
below the final drop. Worse, I saw another hood climb from the
driver's seat with a long iron hook and watched him grapple the
lower of the raised rungs to pull down the fire escape
ladder.

"Jack! Nico!" I shouted in
the cell phone, hoping one of them could hear me over the wind's
roar. "I'm on the roof, and they've completely cut me off. I'll try
to stop the guy coming up the fire escape, but I need you to get
below to cut off the others if they circle back to the
van."

"No, jump instead!" Jack
yelled over the speaker. "I'll be on the south side."

"I can't jump a dozen
stories!"

"Use the chute," Nico
said.

"You packed me a chute?" I
was touched.

"Of course he did," Jack
said. "It's in that packet he gave you today. We each have one.
You're no use to us crippled." 

Okay, now things were back
to normal. "Thanks, guys."

 
I again pulled the
packet from my bag and hurried to the far end of the building. It
was a mini-chute, fine for nice days but not for the current gale
force. I didn't weigh enough for this wind shear. I'd be tossed
around like a blond leaf.

My gaze returned to the
pile of discarded rods. Heavy rods.

I pulled the snuffbox free
of its silken wrapping, then returned it to the hidden pocket. The
Hermes scarf went tight around my right pant leg at the ankle, and
I tied a secure knot. Then I unbuttoned my slacks and shoved as
many of the long steel pieces as I could down the leg. The scarf
held everything. A splayed bungee cord skittered across the roof. I
snatched it, used the line to tie the other pant leg, and repeated
the process with the rods. Fastening the slacks again was a
challenge, but I prayed the experiment held for the
short-term.

Hook Man shouted as he
cleared the roof's parapet. I dropped off the other side of the
building.

Free falling can be both
dangerous and exhilarating at the same time. When you're dropping
between buildings in a heavy storm, the angry clouds turning
everything as dark as evening despite the clock showing midday,
common sense would tell anyone to be afraid. However, when you're
seconds away from possible death or dismemberment, and jumping with
a makeshift plan is the only option, the needle on the reality
scale makes a definite slide to the exhilaration end of the
spectrum.

I hung onto the metal
rings that kept my small fluorescent yellow parachute steady as I
dropped to the pavement. The wind pushed me far off target.
Nonetheless, Jack
 
had the car, this time a Mercedes sedan, beside me as my feet
hit the asphalt. Nico's strong arms pushed me into the car's
shotgun position, which was good since I could not bend my legs at
the knee. He dove into the backseat. I reclined my seat back as far
as possible and simultaneously slammed the door. We screeched
through the next light before I'd barely taken a second breath. I
looked over to the driver's side. The dash lights illuminated
Jack's profile, showing an expression as stormy as the weather
outside.

At that moment, I knew
there were layers of
 
Jack
 
I might never
learn.

I'd, of course, planned on
leaving Miami with just Nico in tow, but after Jack aided in my
rescue, there left little I could do to shake his shadow. Might as
well show him my prize.

"I found something in Tony
B's office," I said, extracting the snuffbox. "This look
familiar?"

"Is that—" Jack cursed as
he almost hit another car. "How? Is there anything
inside?"

"Simon sent it to Tina," I
answered as I shined my tiny flash onto the snuffbox and found it
empty. "No, there's nothing inside."

"Your friend Tina
who's—"

"Dead. Right."

"Who's dead?" Nico asked
from the backseat. I gave him a quick synopsis. He
whistled.

Jack dodged another truck,
then asked, "So how did it get into Tony B's office?"

"I think you know the
answer to that."

"You have no proof he
killed her, right? Just supposition."

I shrugged and played the
light over the maker's mark that appeared on the bottom of the
object. "His goons broke my phone so I couldn't call for help, then
transported me in the trunk of their car. A big black Mercedes, by
the way. Can we please not use this brand of car for a
while?"