John Miller - Upside Down

Turning her head in the other direction to look for Winter Massey, she spotted the driver's partner coming straight toward her from the downriver end of the structure. She paid the $6.50 admission and was aware that the cell phone in her pocket was ringing, that Rush must be calling her back, but she ignored it.

The security guards manning the metal detectors inside the doors didn't so much as look at her.

The two detectives met up outside the doors and came inside.

She turned her head to see that the cops were talking to the male security guard.

Inside the lobby, she turned to see that the big cop was behind her; he was scanning the crowd, surely looking for her. She left the slow-moving crowd, and as soon as she was out of sight of the cop she ran. Where is Mr. Massey? The cop had looked directly at her, but she didn't think he recognized her. She could hardly hear the canned music or the people talking over the roar in her mind, the fear that filled her. She forced herself to pause to look at a glass wall, behind which fish of all sizes swam lazily. How did the cop find her?

Any second the cop could spot her and grab her, and he would take the tape and the negatives and then they would probably kill her because she knew too much. When Mr. Massey came, it might already be too late. If Mr. Massey started asking questions about her, maybe they would kill him too. Two days earlier, she would have thought that was impossible, but now she knew it wasn't. If they grabbed her, she could scream bloody murder and fight them, but who was going to go against the police to help her?

She tugged down the bill of her cap and moved rapidly through the Caribbean reef exhibit, colorful fish swimming on the other side of the glass wall. On the escalator she dared to look back. She saw the big cop coming behind her and she fought the urge to break into a dead run, knowing it would only call attention to herself.

On the second floor, she walked hurriedly through the rain forest, past the food court and down to the first floor. After passing by the jellyfish tanks and the Gulf of Mexico exhibit, she came alongside the glass tunnel for pedestrians that was under the shark tank. She had never been at the aquarium that she didn't go inside that tunnel. She always imagined that she was scuba diving, without the dangers or the wet.

She had to get out of the building, into the open.

Faith Ann slowed when she saw the smaller cop standing near the drinking fountain, close to the exit. He was looking hard at every kid who was leaving the building. If he studied her face, he could recognize her-a kid alone.

The phone in her pants began to ring again. She tilted her head down and ignored the rings. Using the bill of her cap to shield her eyes, she stared at the cop's feet and tried to look casual-like she was waiting for someone who was still wandering around in the building. Luckily there were tons of people for him to check out. She decided that her best route of escape was back out the entrance, because she doubted they would figure that anyone would go out that way, or have other cops hanging around there.

The bigger detective, now downstairs, approached the smaller one, and they started talking. Even though nobody seemed to take any notice of it, the phone ringing again in her pocket seemed to her to be a huge sound in the large space. Then it stopped.

She was moving toward the front doors when the phone rang again. Faith Ann was out of sight of the cops so she took it out of her pocket. The caller display showed a number she didn't recognize. She pressed the green button and put the telephone to her ear.

“Rush? Mr. Massey?”

As she listened for a reply, Faith Ann was aware of the sound of the canned music surrounding her, and that it seemed to be slightly out of sync where it entered her right ear through the phone. The caller's phone was picking up the same sounds she was hearing around her, sending them over lines or around a bunch of satellites before sending it to her ear. The echo ended when the incoming call shut off. He's here!

Faith Ann spun around, searching the figures and the faces, trying to spot Mr. Massey.

While Adams radioed Nicky to tell him to meet them at the aquarium, Winter dialed the number that Rush had given him. It rang several times and was answered by Kimberly's recorded voice asking him to leave his name and telephone number and that she would return the call at her earliest convenience. He ended the call.

“Hurry,” he told Adams, who was already driving as fast as the heavy traffic allowed. Adams honked, but the only effect it had was to earn them a few naughty hand signals from other drivers.

After they crossed Poydras Street, a truck swerving to miss another car slammed its rear bumper into a minivan, and they both stopped, completely blocking both lanes. Adams started honking. The driver of the truck jumped down and stamped over to check on the van's driver.

Adams cursed and craned his neck, looking for an escape route. A policeman parked his motorcycle and started walking casually over. He glared at Adams, who held his open badge case out the window. The cop gave him a “just a minute” dismissive wave and approached the truck driver.

“I'm going to hoof it,” Winter told Adams. “It's about six blocks. Park the car as close as you can to the aquarium-there a road on either side of it-and meet me in there.”

Winter jumped from the car and took off running. Under his jacket the holstered SIG Sauer swung against his ribs like a metronome, keeping perfect machinelike time with each long stride toward the Mississippi River.

When he ran, Winter was in his element. If he hadn't been so nervous, he wouldn't so much as broken a sweat. He took out his cell phone, pressed Redial, and listened to it ring. Answer it, Faith Ann!

He dropped the phone back into his pocket and took out the radio. “Nicky, Adams, I'm almost there. Positions?”

“I'm getting close,” Nicky's voice said. “I'm on foot. I can see the building.”

“I'm moving,” Adams added. “Two minutes.”

“When you get there, you two watch the front. Adams, park close and, Nicky, watch the entrance. We'll go in and look for her. I'll bring her to the car out front and we'll take her straight to the hotel.”

Winter pocketed the radio and extended his strides.

At the corner of Magazine Street, he turned right on Canal Street and saw the aquarium's distinctive glass tower, like a cake made of mirrors, its flat top canted at a sharp angle.

Marta knew that the girl had called somebody from here at the aquarium. After scanning the plaza, she stood in line patiently, paid the adult admission fee, then went through the newly installed metal detectors without incident, since her blades were ceramic. Inside, she immediately spotted Tinnerino and Doyle over by the exit to her right and saw that they hadn't managed to find the girl. In the lobby, Marta checked the women's bathroom, figuring the cops hadn't thought to do that and it was a good place for the girl to hide.

Back outside the bathroom, Marta took out her phone and a slip of paper. Reading the dead lawyer's cell phone number, she keyed it in and listened. When the girl answered, the cops would have a new fix on her, and they would know if she was still in the area. She heard a phone ringing nearby. Marta's eyes stopped on a boy wearing a hooded sweatshirt and a ball cap, who nervously pulled a ringing phone from his pocket. As Marta watched, he looked at the display, pressed a button, and put it to his ear.

“Rush? Mr. Massey?” Marta saw the boy's lips mirror perfectly the words she heard. She realized that the boy wasn't a boy at all, but Faith Ann Porter in disguise! Marta had to hand it to her-this was one bright little girl. Too bad she was living her last day on earth. It was a crying shame she had seen Arturo. If only she had been in school, where she'd belonged, and not in her mother's office. Such a thin child, with such a fragile neck. One swipe and within seconds those bright blue eyes would lose their focus.