David Hosp - Among Thieves

Sally hesitated for just a moment, and then struggled to get past the man. It was no use, though. He had regained his balance, and he pushed her down, wedging her in the door. Then he turned to Lissa. His first blow struck her on the side of the head, and it stunned her. She didn’t fall, but the expression in her eyes changed, glassing over as she stood up straighter. He hit her again, this time in the stomach, doubling her over as she cried out. The third blow was to the top of her head, with the butt of the gun, and it put her down. She crumpled to the curb, lifeless.

Sally screamed, “No!” and reached out to her, but he grabbed her arm and hoisted her up. He was remarkably strong, and she thought for a moment he’d broken her arm. If he had any such thought, it gave him no concern, and he shoved her into the van.

His gun was pointed at her; his finger was on the trigger. “Over,” he ordered her. “Now.” His voice had regained its equanimity, and he slid into the front seat, almost on top of her. She slid over and sat in the passenger seat. The car was still running and he dropped the transmission into reverse, hit the gas, and backed into the street. Sally gasped as they bounced over the curb, thinking that they might have run over Lissa’s unconscious body lying next to the car. As he put the van in drive and pulled away, though, she could see her lying there, apparently still in one piece.

He pulled out and sped up, his gun still pointed at her head. He drove fast, and turned down two side streets with confidence before slowing to a pace that wouldn’t attract attention.

Twice she glanced back behind them, hoping to see someone following them. There was no one there, though, and as they pulled farther and farther away from the neighborhood, the adrenaline began to wear off.

Only then did she begin to fathom how much trouble she was in.

“Where’s Lissa?”

Kozlowski was standing in the doorway to the back office where he spent most of his time holed up. He was leaning against the doorjamb, his polyester slacks straining against the muscles in his leg, his secondhand-store jacket flapped open, revealing his shoulder holster and gun. A caricature of himself.

“She went to pick up the girl,” Finn said. “Why?”

Kozlowski shook his head. “No reason.”

“You guys got a date to register for china patterns this afternoon or something?”

Kozlowski looked confused. “What?”

“ China patterns. That’s what people do when they decide to get married, right?” Finn said. “They go out and they pick out china patterns? Silverware, too. New towels, sheets, crockery, the whole shootin’ match.”

“Fuck you.”

“How about hot plates? Either of you guys got a hot plate?” Finn waved his hand, dismissing the concern. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get three or four once you register.”

“We’re not doing that,” Kozlowski said. He sounded definitive.

“You have to. A marriage isn’t legal without a china pattern.” Finn shook his head. “I didn’t see it coming.”

“Really? Someone with your sensitive feminine instincts? I’d have thought you knew before we did.”

“That’s good; I like that.” He looked at the older man; Kozlowski shifted uncomfortably. “Marriage,” Finn said.

“Marriage,” Kozlowski repeated. He shrugged. “We’ve been together for over a year,” he said.

“I know, that’s what I don’t get. Seemed like you guys had it all figured out; like you guys had what everybody else is looking for. You really want to risk screwing it up?”

“I love her,” Kozlowski said.

“Of course you do. So why do you want to risk losing her?”

“I risk losing her by marrying her?”

Finn nodded. “Lissa? Yeah, you risk losing her by marrying her. She’s not the marrying type. Neither are you. You might’ve been once, when you were younger. If you’d gone a different way, you could’ve settled down with some strong, silent Polish girl and had a dozen kids. Not now, though.”

“Maybe you don’t know us as well as you think you do.”

Finn laughed. “I know you better than that. I know you both better than you know yourselves.”

“This gonna be a problem?”

“Not for me. Not unless you guys screw it up. I need both of you here. I don’t want either of you thinking you can get out of your commitments to me by getting married to each other.”

Kozlowski shook his head. “We won’t screw it up.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Promise?”

“Fuck you.”

Finn smiled. “I suppose that’s the best I’m gonna get, huh?”

“More than you deserve.”

“You’re gonna tell me what I deserve?”

“I said I love her, not that I deserve her,” Kozlowski said. “I’ll take it.”

“Fair enough,” Finn said. “Just don’t screw it up.”

“You said that already.”

The phone rang, and Finn leaned over to pick it up. “This is Finn,” he said. He could hear the noises in the background, and he sat up straight. They were unmistakable sounds: children crying in the background; adults hollering, their voices full of stress; a public announcement in an automaton’s voice echoing off a linoleum floor; sirens in the distance. They were hospital sounds.

“Is this a law office?” the woman’s voice said.

“It is,” Finn replied. “Who is this?”

“This is City Hospital. Does a woman named Lissa Krantz work there?”

“Yes. Why, is there something wrong?” Finn glanced up at Kozlowski, who was returning his look, an edge of concern reflecting Finn’s own tension.

“She’s okay,” the woman said. “At least she should be. She was involved in an altercation.”

“What kind of an altercation?” Finn asked. “What are you talking about?” He looked at Kozlowski and shook his head in an attempt to look reassuring. From the look on Kozlowski’s face, it was clearly not working.

“I don’t really know, sir. That’s all the information I have. Is she married?”

“Sort of.”

“The doctor told me that we should get her husband here if possible, for when she wakes up.”

“Wakes up? She’s unconscious? What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, I only have the notes they gave me. The doctor’s in with another patient, and it’s a little crazy around here. You’ll have to come down to the hospital to get the full information.”

“Okay, we’ll be right down,” Finn said. He was about to hang up the phone, but he paused. “Wait,” he said. “What about the girl?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before the woman spoke. “What girl?” she asked.

“They said she was okay?” Kozlowski said.

“Yeah.” They were moving as soon as Finn hung up the phone. Finn forwarded his office phone to his cell and locked the door to the office. Kozlowski was already in the car when Finn got there.

“Did they say what happened?” Kozlowski asked. His voice seemed calm, but Finn could hear the man’s teeth grinding together, and the muscles in his jaw and shoulders were flexing in a disjointed, spasmodic rhythm.

Finn shook his head. He was worried about Lissa, but the nurse who had called said she was going to be okay. His primary concern was locating Sally. “She’d probably head to the office,” Finn said. “Either that or my apartment.”

“Who?” Kozlowski’s full consciousness was devoted to Lissa at the moment.

“Sally,” Finn said. “If Lissa never got to the school to pick her up, she must’ve set off for Charlestown on foot.”

Kozlowski shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Can you think of anyplace else she would go?” Finn cast a quick look at Kozlowski as he drove.