Sara Paretsky - Burn Marks

A giant tractor tire propped against one wall was the only sign that humans had ever been around. I guess it didn’t even prove that-only that tractors had been around.

When we got outside it was dark, too dark to make hunting in rotting buildings very smart. And it was too evocative of my near baking at the Prairie Shores for my taste-my clothes were wet with sweat, my hands grimy from touching the decayed walls. I was glad I’d had the dog’s support in the warehouse.

Even Mr. Contreras had been subdued by the expedition. He put up a token protest that we shouldn’t leave now, just when we were getting our bearings. When I said it was too dark to look farther, he agreed readily, volunteering to return in the morning with the Streeter Brothers.

“Sure,” I said heartily. “They’ll love the help.”

I returned the gun to the back waistband of my jeans and bundled him into the car with Peppy. On the way home he kept shaking his head and muttering comments that drifted to me only sporadically over the roar of the engine-he hoped Elena-roar, roar-not a place for a- roar-you really should do something, doll. I gave the car more gas to drown out what it was I should do.

I found a parking place on Wellington and left the Tempo there. I didn’t want to make it too easy for anyone watching me to connect me with the car. I turned down the old man’s invitation to dinner and headed up the stairs, shining my flashlight on the tread above me.

Furey was waiting at the top of the third flight. I dropped the flashlight and fumbled for my gun. When he launched himself down the stairs at me, I turned to race back down. Fatigue and injuries slowed me. He got my feet and grabbed my head in a brutal armlock.

“You’re coming with me, Vic. You’re going to kiss your aunt good-bye and then have a farewell party yourself.”

He was sitting on my back. I tried twisting underneath him, biting into his leg. He yelped in pain, but grabbed my hands and cuffed them together. Seizing the handcuffs, he started pulling me down the stairs. I let out a great cry that brought Mr. Contreras and the dog to the door of their apartment.

“I’m going to shoot both of them, Vic,” Furey hissed at me. “Interfering with the police in the performance of their duties. You want to watch? Or stop fighting and come along with me.”

I gulped in air, trying to quiet my heart enough to talk. “Go in,” I quavered at Mr. Contreras. “He’ll shoot Peppy.”

When the old man came into the hall anyway, brandishing his pipe wrench, Furey fired at him. The wrench flew to the floor as the old man crumbled. As we left I saw Peppy race over to lick Mr. Contreras’s face. I was choking on my tears, but I thought I saw him put up an arm to pet her.

A Walk on the Wild Side

Furey’s car was parked halfway up the block. He jerked the driver’s door open and shoved me across the gear box into the passenger seat. I flung up my cuffed hands to protect my face as I fell against the door. My left leg was tangled in the gear stick. I was twisted at an awkward angle, unable to kick at Michael when he thrust my leg onto the passenger side.

At least he hadn’t bothered to pat me down. Maybe he didn’t know I sometimes carry a gun. If I kept my wits, I might still be able to use it.

A handful of people were out on the street, but they turned studiously the other way when they saw me struggling against him-no one wants to be involved in domestic quarrels. I kept biting off the cry to call the cops. After all, Michael was the cops. What would the patrol units do when they showed up and Michael told them I was a violent prisoner?

“I’m not taking any chances with you, Vic-Ernie and Ron were right about you all along. You’re not interested in the things a normal girl is-you just play the odds and wait your chance to jump on a guy’s balls.”

I leaned back in the leather seat. “You’re so brave, Furey, shooting a man old enough to be your grandfather. They have special sessions on that at the Police Academy?”

“Shut up, Vic.” He took a hand from the wheel and slapped my face.

“Gosh, Michael, now I am scared. You and your friends really know how to keep your women in shape. How about fastening my seat belt so I don’t have to go headfirst through the windshield-you’d have a hard time explaining it to Bobby.”

He ignored my request and took off with such a burst that I was flung against the leather. I squirmed awkwardly to fish the seat belt from where it was wedged against the door.

“They kept laughing at me, all the kowtowing I did to you-Ernie said LeAnn talked back to him that way just once and he taught her who was boss. That’s what I should have done with you from the start. Out at Boots’s barbecue they warned me you were acting sweet just so you could nose your way into our business. Carl and Luis took them seriously-but me! I just couldn’t listen!” He pounded the steering wheel, his voice rising and cracking.

I finally managed to snap the metal tongue into its holder. “Three weeks ago, when you told me Elena had been seen soliciting in Uptown, that was a lie, wasn’t it? That’s why you were so insistent I not call Bobby to talk to him about it.”

He turned onto Diversey and moved into the oncoming traffic lane to swoop around the traffic backed up from the light at Southport. “You’re so sharp, Vic. That’s what always attracted me to you. Why couldn’t you be smart and sweet at the same time?”

“Just luck of the draw, I guess.” I tried to brace myself against his sudden braking as he cut back into the right lane. “You said you had my aunt. Where did you find her? Down in one of those abandoned buildings on Cermak?”

He laughed. “She was right under my nose. Can you beat that? Right around the corner in my own neighborhood. Eileen had seen her and told my mother and Mother mentioned it to me at supper last night. She’d gone to hide out with one of her old cronies, but her thirst got to her- she just had to go get herself a bottle. I knew sooner or later, if she wasn’t dead, she wouldn’t be able to put up with that thirst anymore. I just didn’t expect it to be around the corner from me. So I hung out all afternoon and sure enough, round eight o’clock, there she came. I just helped her into the car. She tried sweet-talking me. It was loathsome.”

He did sixty through the park to Lake Shore Drive. I suppose the beat cops knew his license plate, or at least called it in and saw it belonged to a detective. The local traffic didn’t have that inside track and honked ferociously as they had to swerve out of his way.

“Was she loathsome because of her age or her drinking or both?” I asked.

“Women who think they’ve got sexual powers that they don’t are disgusting.”

“She appeals to some guys. Just because she’s not your type doesn’t mean everyone finds her repulsive.”

He turned onto Lake Shore Drive so fast I was flung against him. When I was upright again I said conversationally, “Touching you seems loathsome to me, but I’m sure some women would disagree.”

He didn’t say anything, just took the Corvette up to ninety, diving in and out of lanes around the other cars, making them seem to stand still in a blur of light. I was afraid I was going to throw up when he braked into the curve at the Michigan Avenue exit. He slowed down then-the traffic was too thick for him to keep up so mad a pace.

“You’re cracking, Michael. You’re leaving a trail a mile wide. Even if Roland Montgomery’s your clout in the department, he can’t protect you from the mayhem you’re manufacturing tonight.”