Lisa Scottoline - Think Twice

“I got her!” Grady shouted. “You okay?”

“Yes!” Bennie shouted back. Rain fell everywhere. Sirens sounded far away. She didn’t know if they’d get here in time. It didn’t look good. “What should we do? Can we get her up, on land?”

“Don’t see how!” Grady looked up. “Too damn high.”

Bennie could see that Carrier was losing blood. She patted her cheeks, trying to keep her alive, but her skin had taken on a terrible pallor. “Stay with us, girl! Stay with us!”

The sirens grew closer, and there was a new sound, the rumbling of an engine, coming from out on the water. Bennie looked downriver. Two police boats were speeding toward them, cutting through the storm.

“Look, help!” Grady shouted.

“Swim to them!” Bennie and Grady kept a hold on Carrier and swam away from the pier, stroking past debris, floating oil, and rotting fish. The current flowed stronger mid-river, and they struggled to stay above water.

“Help! Over here!” Grady waved frantically.

“Help! Help!” Bennie hollered.

Mary and the others screamed to the police boats from the pier. Sirens blared closer. Red lights flashed as cruisers hit the Boulevard.

“Thank God!” Grady shouted, joyful.

Bennie could see they were losing Carrier. Her eyes fluttered open, then rolled back in her head, the whites looking sightless at the sky. Rain fell mercilessly on her upturned face.

“Help!” Bennie shouted, wishing, now more than ever, that she had killed Alice.

But her gun was probably on the bottom of the river, and Alice had vanished into the storm.

Alice swam against the wind and storm. The chop slapped her in the face, rain poured onto her head. She swallowed a gulp of gritty water, then spewed it out. Police boats sped toward the pier but they were already well behind her. She was getting closer to the Jersey side, swimming hard.

The river reeked, and plywood floated by with a nail sticking up. She felt something slither around her leg and kicked it off. Oil dotted the surface of the water. Gunk stuck in her teeth, tasting disgusting.

The current pulled her downriver. She fought it, keeping the bright lights of the Camden waterfront to her left, trying to swim straight. Her heart pounded, water chilled her skin. Her messenger bag weighed her down, too heavy to float. She kept putting it back on her shoulder, pulling it along by its strap as she swam.

She glanced back. The storm grayed her view. She could see the flashing red of a police cruiser. They’d gotten there quick. They’d look for her first on land.

She swam harder, her thoughts churning. The money had already been transferred to the Bahamas. All she had to was get there and take it out. It was almost hers.

She swam even harder, with new energy.

Mary sat in the hospital waiting room, trying to come to terms with what had happened. The paramedics hadn’t let anybody in the ambulance, so the only thing she knew was that Judy had been rushed into the emergency room. The doctors hadn’t come back yet.

Her gaze wandered over the wallpaper, a baby blue print that provided an intentionally soothing backdrop for landscapes in muted pastels. Ancient magazines covered the coffee table, and the TV was mounted in the corner, playing on mute. She couldn’t watch it. Judy could be dying at this very minute.

She felt pure dread, and her parents, anguished and bedraggled, weren’t speaking to each other. Fiorella had gone to the ladies’ room, but her presence lingered like an unwanted ghost.

Her mother looked at the TV with her chin tilted up, blinking behind her bifocals. Her gray hair was wet, exposing her bald spot, and she watched Seinfeld with apparent absorption, though she couldn’t have any idea what was going on since there was no closed captioning. Her father kept his head down, his shoulders sunk into his damp windbreaker and his hammy hands folded in his lap.

Her attention shifted to Bennie, who was sitting next to Grady, talking in low voices with two Philly cops. Her blond hair lay in wet tangles on her shoulders, scratches covered her arms and legs, and an oddly girlie purse hung from her shoulder. She seemed distant and didn’t make eye contact with anybody, even Grady, though she’d called Judy’s parents, who were flying in from San Francisco, and her boyfriend Frank, driving home from his job site.

Mary felt a sadness so deep she could drown. Judy was bleeding. Bennie was bleeding in another way, less obvious. Her parents were bleeding, too. She didn’t know if anybody could be healed. The pieces of her life had been reconfigured, and she didn’t know if they would ever fit together, ever again. Especially if something happened to Judy.

Suddenly Fiorella entered the waiting room, smoothing her wet hair back, though its chic cut was ruined. She had no lipstick on, and her wet raincoat covered her black dress. She walked over to Mary’s mother. “Vita,” she said, coolly. “Good-bye, I’m going home.”

Her mother turned from the TV and eyed Fiorella with a look that could kill. “ Bene, ” she said simply.

“I must collect my things, from your house. I’ll take a taxi.”

“ Certo .” Her mother dug in her purse, produced her house keys, and handed them to Fiorella. “Go. Now. Leave under mat.”

“Thank you, and I should say that-”

“Go! Leave!” Her mother pointed at the exit, her cheeks flushed with sudden emotion. “You are powerful woman, Donna Fiorella! You are not good woman. Not good woman at all!”

Fiorella flinched, took the keys, then turned to Mary and her father. “Good-bye, all. Many thanks for your hospitality.”

Her father said nothing, and neither did Mary.

In the next minute, an ER doctor appeared in the threshold to the waiting room, in blue scrubs and a puffy hat with the Phillies logo.

Fiorella turned, the cops looked over, and Bennie and Grady rose.

Mary stood up, her knees weak. “Is she okay?” she asked, her mouth gone dry.

And the doctor slid off his hat.

Bennie was relieved that Carrier would be fine, but she didn’t feel any other emotion, except regret that Alice had gotten away. Evidently Grady was back, but she couldn’t deal with him right now. He, DiNunzio, and her parents were group-hugging, and she didn’t join in the celebration. She’d taken another pill in the ladies’ room and stood off to the side, near Fiorella.

“Ms. Rosato?”

“Yes?” Bennie came out of her reverie, as a uniformed called to her, entering the waiting room as if he had news. “Did you get her?”

“Did you?” Mary repeated, clustering with Grady and her parents.

“No, but we have a lead,” the cop answered. “We checked the airport, and there’s a Bennie Rosato ticketed on the last flight to Miami, with a connection to Nassau, in the Bahamas.”

“When’s the flight?” Bennie asked.

“In half an hour.”

“The airport’s twenty minutes away. We have to go now.”

“Hold on, it’s taken care of.” The cop held up a warning hand. “My captain is coordinating with the TSA and the FBI. We’re holding the plane, claiming weather delays, and we’re already setting up a stake-out. The minute she shows up, we’ll arrest her. The A.D.A. is meeting us there.”

“Nassau?” Bennie’s thoughts raced ahead. “The Bahamas have offshore banking. She has my bank accounts and my ID. She changed all the passwords. She’s moving my money to the Bahamas.”

“You’re right.” Grady’s eyes flared an alarmed blue. “I saw a DHL envelope in her office, going to BSB. She told me she had a new banking client.”