Nancy Gideon - Warrior's Second Chance

“Why are you calling me?” It was little more than a whisper.

“It’s a beautiful day. It’s great to be alive. At least I’m sure that’s what your daughter is thinking. I’m watching her right now.”

Barbara’s eyes squeezed shut. Panic and helplessness tightened within her chest. Tessa…

“We’ve been having a wonderful time here on the Navy Pier,” Chet Allen continued cheerfully as if he were a part of the outing of school children her daughter was chaperoning in Chicago for the long weekend. “Your Tess particularly enjoyed the display of stained glass inside, but the girls are dragging her down to the Ferris wheel. She’s not afraid of heights, is she? I didn’t think so. Your scrappy little girl isn’t afraid of anything. That’s because she doesn’t know what you and I know. She doesn’t know that her life could be over before she finishes paying for those ice cream cones.”

“What do you want?” she all but screamed into the phone.

She could almost see him smiling on the other end of the line, a cold, smug smile of control.

“I want you to do me a favor. But first, a few ground rules just in case you get confused about who’s in charge here.”

She could hear carnival music in the background and the innocence of happy girlish chatter. She could hardly breathe as she heard him say, “Excuse me, young lady. I think you dropped this.”

And then Barbara trembled at the sweetly familiar sound of her adopted grandchild’s voice with its delicate Spanish accent.

“Thank you, señor.”

Rose. Sweet Rose.

After a brief pause, Chet Allen spoke crisply, clearly, so there would be no mistaking the danger.

“You see how close I am? I could have just as easily given her a blade between the ribs as returned her bag of cotton candy. Do we understand each other, Barbara? Do you get the picture?”

“Yes,” she whispered. She got the picture in Technicolor.

“Good.” He was all pleasant humor once again. “Make no mistake. There is nothing, no one, that can come between them and me if you don’t do exactly what I tell you. Before you can call your commando son-in-law, before you can scream for help to the Windy City police, I’ll have them. They’ll be dead. Are we clear on that?”

“Yes.” Clear as her Waterford crystal.

“Excellent. Now, back to that favor. You’re flying to D.C. this afternoon. I’ve expressed a ticket to your office. It should be there in about an hour. That doesn’t give you much time to pack your party dresses. You’ve got reservations for two at the Wardman under your maiden name.”

“For two?”

“I’ve arranged for a traveling companion for you, seats 12A and B. Someone who’s capable of handling the behind-the-scenes work that needs to be done while you dazzle and distract. The two of you will have a common goal when it comes to saving your daughter’s life. Whether you want to tell him why he’s got so much at stake is up to you. Just make sure he’s motivated to help you. And to help himself.”

Surely he couldn’t mean…

She couldn’t even bring his name into focus for fear of remembering all. She tried to take a breath through the complex emotions wadding in her throat. The effort nearly strangled her. She forced herself to get behind the paralysis of surprise. Not now. Not yet. She could deal with that later. Right now, she had to think of Tessa. She made her mind move forward. Think. “How did you get out?” Suddenly, that mattered, knowing who was pulling the strings. “They said you couldn’t make bail. The evidence—”

“Is gone. No more damning paper trail. No more greedy Councilwoman Martinez.” She heard his fingers snap. “No more solid case against me. I’m free as a bird with clipped wings. The only ones who can try to put me back in that cage are you and your daughter. But before you get the chance to testify, one of two things will have happened, either you’ll join Martinez and disappear or I will.”

It took a long moment for her to digest that. What if he was telling the truth? “Martinez…”

“Had an unfortunate accident in her cell. I’d just as soon neither of us have to keep her company. She was really quite unpleasant.”

Barbara’s mind spun like that dizzying Ferris wheel, trying to make sense of what she was hearing. Martinez was dead. Allen was out on bail. “Who killed her? Why?”

“Let’s just say my particular talents were needed to finish up some long overdue business and certain parties were eager to have me on the streets. So I want you to play a game with me. You remember how much I like to play games. This isn’t hide-and-seek or spin the bottle. It’s a survival game.”

“Why should I care if you survive? You killed Robert. You killed my husband.”

“That’s what I do. And I do it better than anyone else. Don’t hold that against me. It was just a job. And now I have another job to do.”

“Keeping Tessa and me from going to court,” she all but whispered.

Allen laughed off her greatest fear. “Babs, you’re not that important in the giant scheme of things. Neither am I. They wouldn’t have gotten me out just to tie up my loose ends.”

“Who?”

“Them that makes the rules. Rules I have to follow. Rules they’ve always made me follow even when I didn’t want to. It’s not about what I want. I can’t break those rules. But you can.”

“Rules? What are you talking about, Chet?”

“Ask Mac. Those rules used to apply to him, too. He broke them and now they want me to punish him for it. That’s my new job, Barbie. That’s why I thought you might be interested in playing.”

“I don’t understand.”

The voice on the phone grew harsh and cold as gun metal. “Then let me spell it out for you, Barbara. In fourteen days, I have to appear in court to stand trial for Robert’s murder. You and your daughter are the only witnesses who can testify against me. I’m motivated to see that doesn’t happen. I have a choice. Either I can silence the both of you or I can disappear. I need help to disappear. In that fourteen days, I have another job to do if I want to live long enough to make that choice, to get that help. I have to silence the only other friend I’ve ever had. Those are the rules to the game I’m playing. But I’m no fool, Barbie. I know once that job is done, my usefulness will have expired. They may decide not to follow their own rules. Either I’ll be buried so far undercover no one will ever know I existed or I’ll be buried next to Robby. I’m not ready for that hot, green hell yet.”

“So what do you expect me to do?”

“You don’t have to follow rules. You can break them for me. You and Mac. He knows how to play. You have thirteen days to break the rules so Tag doesn’t have to die. Then we’ll discuss that other choice. The one that involves you and your daughter. You’re safe, she’s safe for now, as long as you play the game.”

“Who makes the rules?”

“Ticktock, Barbie. Better get packing.”

“Wait! What is it you want me to do?”

“I’ll call you when you get to the Wardman. And Babs, they are lovely girls. You should be proud.”

The line went dead.

She sat for long, tense minutes staring at the receiver as if it would yet speak some answer to her. Silence. The only sounds were the tortured gasps of her breathing.

Then, the mellow bongs of the grandfather clock in the living room sounded, tolling out the time and how quickly it was passing. Ticktock.

Without thinking, Barbara dialed. A moment passed. Then, at last, a connection.

“Hi, Mom. You should be here to rescue me from this unruly mob of twelve-year-olds. I’d rather be facing a box of angry jurors.”

Tessa’s voice, cheerful and alive. Barbara clutched the phone, struggling against a maternal demand that she scream an alarm across the miles that separated them. But Allen was there, watching. She inhaled and let it out in a slow controlled stream before speaking.