Hit and Run Read online

  With luck, the long drive tomorrow would finish the journey by late afternoon—as long as they got an early start. On the bedside table, her charging cell phone beeped to announce an incoming text message. She smiled and grabbed up the phone, expecting a quick note from Combs.

  Instead, the text came from Angela, suggesting they meet at the address of a law office the next day. September frowned, and Shadow stirred beside her, always able to sense her unease.

  “I’m okay, baby-dog. That’s weird, though.” She re-read the text. “I never knew any attorney that kept office hours on a Sunday.” She shrugged. The quicker they got this settled, the sooner she’d relax and head home. Besides, whatever Chris had hidden away in the safety deposit box had to wait until Monday when the bank opened.

  September dreaded the awkward meeting, but how bad could it be? She’d already lived through, and survived, the worst life had to offer. With Shadow by her side, and Macy-cat draped across her shoulders, she had nothing to fear, not anymore.

  She silenced her phone and curled up on the bed, blinking in the dark. Shadow pushed closer, and on the other side Macy readjusted to press into the curve behind her knees. But questions about what Chris had to say from beyond the grave played cat and mouse with her mind, and she’d barely slept by the time the sun rose.

  Chapter 10

  SHADOW YAWNED AND STRETCHED, then hopped off of the bed. This tiny room smelled foreign, and he had had trouble sleeping soundly with strange noises outside. He nose-touched Macy—the big cat responded with a purr—before circling the bed to check on September.

  She’d tossed and turned all night. But her disquiet hadn’t alerted him to one of her scary-gone episodes. He knew she worried about many things a good-dog couldn’t know. So he did his job—guarding her and Macy in this tiny smelly room, with bear-toy near for security—so she felt safe. He hoped they’d get in the car again soon and drive away. Shadow liked car rides, even if they didn’t stop and get out to explore as much as he’d like.

  He padded to the floor-to-ceiling window, hidden by large swaths of fabric, and nosed the curtain aside to stare outside. Shadow pressed against the glass, relishing the cold against his black fur. Streetlights pooled brightness across the dark pavement where their big car sat. He whined, needing to find a spot of grass and take-a-break.

  As if the thought inspired him, Macy yawned, stretched, then leaped off the bed to pace into the adjoining bathroom. Shadow heard the cat scratching around in his litter box. He always worried when Macy posed to take-a-break inside the house. Good-dogs only left scent markings outside, but Shadow had never seen Macy do that even when on his halter and leash.

  Shadow padded back to the bed and sat quietly beside September. He rested his chin on the pillow, so that he almost nose-touched her, and stared, willing her to understand his need. When her eyes opened it made him so happy his ears slicked back and he couldn’t contain his wags and whines. He gave her a gentle nose-poke, first on her face then in the armpit, because it made her laugh. He pranced around the room when she sat up in bed.

  “I’m up already. Sheesh, it’s still dark out, Shadow.” She yawned, stretched, and swung the covers off. “I know we need to start early, baby-dog. But we don’t have to get up at the crack of dark-thirty.”

  He cocked his head at her, loving the sound of September’s chiding voice. She wasn’t really upset. He could tell. Shadow woofed, ran to the door, and sat patiently while September pulled on shoes and shrugged her puffy coat over her pajamas.

  They hurried to the small grassy spot beside the parking lot, and September waited until he’d finished. The morning air made white puffs when he panted and Shadow raced back to wait at the door while September bagged his deposit. He didn’t know why she did that. Other dogs would still know he’d been there from the scent he’d left. Shadow had rushed his morning ritual, as there were few interesting sniffs. Other dogs hadn’t visited the grassy spot for many days and fresh smells always told him more. Besides, his breakfast awaited.

  Once back inside the tiny room, Shadow sat and impatiently waited for September to serve his food. Usually she hid food-filled toys around their place at Lia’s and put Macy’s treat-toys on the high surfaces. Sometimes the cat knocked one of his treat-toys to the floor and Shadow got an extra munchy.

  But today September filled two bowls with food and placed Macy’s on the bedside table. The big cat padded quickly from the bathroom, mewing softly with excitement, to leap onto the bed. He held his mouth open for his special treat—“Pill time, Macy”— and then munched food that smelled stronger, yummier, than dog fare. Shadow licked his lips as September set his food down, but didn’t eat until she gave him the release signal.

  September started the water running in the bathroom. Shadow still didn’t understand why people climbed into rain-boxes to get all wet and wash away all the lovely smells that identified them as individuals.

  Macy paw-patted his bowl to the edge of the table. One final push and it tipped onto the floor.

  Shadow woofed and ran to check out the unexpected bounty. He sniffed out and munched a dozen or so pieces of cat kibble scattered on the carpet. Macy stood on tiptoes, arched his back in a satisfied stretch, then reached down from his elevated perch to grab a good-dog’s tail.

  Growling happily, Shadow accepted the invitation. He nose-poked with an open-mouthed grin, braving the paw-pats until Macy danced away.

  The cat grabbed bear-toy. With his powerful rear legs he launched himself from the bed to the desk, scattering notepads, pens, and September’s small tote from the surface. A metal jangle of keys spilled from the tote and slalomed beneath the bed

  Shadow galloped after, rescuing bear-toy from the cat thief and shaking the toy furiously for allowing itself to be swiped. Macy leaped back to the bed and Shadow raced around first one side and then the other, punctuating his excitement with happy barks. Macy teased him, pouncing around the bed, diving under pillows to spill them to the floor, only to paw-thwack Shadow’s black muzzle. Something clattered off the bedside table, but they continued their play.

  “What’s going on in here?”

  September’s voice stopped the pair in mid-bark and thwack.

  “I can’t leave you two alone for even ten minutes for a shower? Settle, baby-dog. Macy, quit teasing the dog.” She sat on the bed and toweled her hair and Macy pushed his massive frame into her lap. Shadow whined, but knew better than to demand attention until the cat vacated her lap. “Shadow, you should ignore him. You know Macy lives to get you in trouble.”

  He grinned and wagged, the placating expression meant to defuse her upset. Shadow wasn’t sure what her words meant, but felt crestfallen at her tone of voice. He hated to disappoint her.

  September set Macy aside and quickly gathered the scattered gear, stowing the bowls in the canvas bag. “Where’s my phone?” She pulled a long wire from the wall that often leashed the small phone-box September liked so much.

  Shadow tipped his head. Macy yawned and looked away.

  “Come on, Shadow. Did you and Macy hide my phone?” She looked around the table, and made a sound of frustration, kneeling to reach behind the furniture. “What have I told you about roughhousing? Not that you pay attention.” She continued to grumble and clambered back to her feet. “I know, you figured I needed exercise this morning before the car ride.”

  He woofed and wagged harder at the last two words.

  She put on her coat and slung bags over both arms. Shadow could barely contain his excitement. At the door, September stopped him with a single, hated word. “Wait.”

  His tail fell and he growled but obeyed when the door swung open. He watched from the window as she carried her burdens to the nearby car then rummaged inside the smaller bag. September dropped the luggage and propped her purse on the hood of the car, searching for something. When she turned away from the car, a scowl drew deep furrows on her forehead and Shadow left the window to meet her at the door. She quickly entered and se
cured the barrier before Macy could dash out.

  “Keys, Shadow. You know, from the show-me game? Keys.”

  He woofed, immediately picturing the metal jangle attached to a long ribbon.

  “Keys, Shadow. Seek.”

  He knew exactly where the keys hid. Macy liked to chase and bat them, but abandoned the keys when he tired of the game and Shadow often had to find them. Now he padded quickly to the foot of the bed, sniffed the narrow opening underneath and lay down, his signal for a find.

  “Good-dog, Shadow, good find.” September knelt and peered beneath the bed, then groaned. “I can’t reach them. Maybe a coat hanger?” She got up to scrabble in the tiny closet and returned with something to reach far underneath, but grew even more frustrated.

  Macy mewed from his perch on the desk and daintily washed one white paw.

  September answered the cat. “I bet anything you knocked them under the bed, Macy. So you can just go get them out.” She scooped him up and returned his nuzzle when he gave her cheek whisker-kisses. “No sucking up to me. Time to redeem yourself. And yes, treats are involved.”

  Macy trilled at the same time Shadow pushed forward at the sound of a favorite word. He’d fetch the keys for September, even without treats, but he couldn’t fit underneath the low bed.

  “Shadow, good-dog, you wait.” She set Macy on the floor at the foot of the bed and pulled a small object from one coat pocket. “Macy, fetch!” She made a red dot light shine on the floor so it disappeared beneath the bed. Macy chirruped, and wriggled underneath to follow the beam. “That’s a good kitty, what a smart boy, Macy. Fetch.”

  The cat returned dragging the fabric ribbon, the keys chiming in his wake. “Good boy, Macy! Good-dog, Shadow.”

  Shadow woofed happily and grabbed up bear-toy. He sat up in a beg position with the stuffed animal in his mouth, asking for a treat as well. September traded Shadow a treat for the stuffed bear and Macy a treat for the keys, her brow finally smooth. “Couldn’t go too far without keys.” She chose one key on the fob that looked different than the others. “And couldn’t open that mysterious lockbox without the bank key either.”

  Chapter 11

  GEORGE SLOUCHED OVER his desk, head propped between his fists. He blinked rapidly at Angela’s cell phone on the desk before him, waiting for an answering text from September. Surely she’d received his note—or rather Angela’s note—to meet later today?

  He’d not slept. Then his constant fidgeting in the pew next to his wife had raised eyebrows from nearby friends, and dark looks from the priest. He prided himself on his honesty and fairness as a judge. So rather than fielding Roxanne’s concern, and trying to lie about his distraction, he left early mass and headed to his office.

  He had to figure out how to make things right, to protect himself, his reputation, and his family. He bit his lips, mouth dry, wishing for something stronger than coffee. Early in his career, ruthlessness paved the way to his current success. He’d only agreed to a couple of innocuous favors. The favors helped him win his first judgeship to the Appellate Court in Cook County. Finally, he could do some real good and make a difference in his district.

  But after his ten-year term, facing reelection with ever-increasing demands from his benefactor, he decided to move back to Indiana. With his law degree from Notre Dame, and his Chicago experience, he’d easily won an appointment as a Superior Court justice and served two terms. From there, the Circuit Court became his home—for the past dozen years as his star continued to rise. The gubernatorial nominating commission just shortlisted him for consideration for the Court of Appeals. Nothing could get in the way of that appointment. He’d do anything to maintain the protective layer between his past transgressions and bright future.

  He sat up in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck and loosening his collar. While awaiting September’s response, he’d deal with Detweiller, the lab owner Angela mentioned. He knew of him from his early years in Chicago, and some of George’s favors involved Clear Choice Labs. Bradley Detweiller’s contract with the city meant both criminal and family law cases used his services. George didn’t know or care exactly how Detweiller figured in Chris Day’s investigation, but the fact his name came up raised all sorts of red flags.

  He unlocked the lower drawer on the desk and pulled out a tiny notebook filled with scribbles only he could read. In this age of computer hacking and virtual forensic specialists, George relied on old-school paper he could destroy with the flick of a Bic. He coded any payments associated with his benefactor through a dozen bank accounts to avoid any appearance of a pattern.

  Equally careful, his benefactor never answered the phone, but rather communicated through a series of carefully phrased and forwarded messages. Southgate thought for a moment how to construct his request. It couldn’t be about protecting him. No, that wouldn’t move the needle. His concern must specifically impact his benefactor’s influence and business. He swallowed hard, trying to still the nausea, and carefully punched in the phone number of the answering service.

  “I have a message for Kapu Enterprises from Pono.” He used the code name assigned to him more than thirty years ago, when he made those first innocuous rulings favorable to the owner’s business. Ever since, he’d fulfilled the company’s requests—actually demands—without fail or argument, recognizing the value of his benefactor’s behind the scenes influence. This message questioned the arrangement for the first time, and could rain down wrath unless played correctly. “With respect—be sure you say that,” he told the operator. “With respect, I understand your fee has doubled, and I appreciate your efficient and welcome services. May I request a week’s extension to fulfill this additional obligation demand from...?” He hesitated, not knowing the code name for the laboratory, and settled on, “...windy city’s clearly chosen test partner.”

  George waited while the service read back his message, and once satisfied he disconnected. Suggesting that Chicago’s Clear Choice Lab owner breached confidence by contacting George, and demanded kickbacks to stay quiet, stomped hard on dangerous toes. Mrs. Wong would not only punish Detweiller, she’d scrub clean all trace of the records that involved their scheme, including George’s connection.

  Reprisals came swiftly in this business, and he felt no more remorse than when sentencing a bad guy in his court. Southgate chose saving his own skin, and that of his family, over some lab rat overstepping his position. Kaliko Wong had a reputation for visiting punishments on entire families.

  Chapter 12

  SEPTEMBER FOLLOWED the directions dictated by her phone and parked at the entrance to the Niles Avenue Dog Park. The place had great reviews and stayed open 24 hours. Floodlights threw dark shadows here and there in the late afternoon gloom. Dark clouds hastened the twilight, and her headlights revealed a deserted field with nary a paw print marking the snowy ground. Lake effect snow continued to spit sandy particles against the windshield, a whispery spider sound she’d nearly forgotten. Nobody else wanted to brave the cold. They’d have the park to themselves.

  Shadow needed a break, not just a doggy relief station, but somewhere to run and stretch his legs. After the almost ten-hour drive today, they both needed some exercise.

  Shadow jittered in the back seat, paw-dancing his anticipation. “Give me a minute, baby-dog. Then we’ll go for a run.” He yawned, loud and long, turning the expression into a prolonged canine commentary on his enforced car incarceration.

  September grinned, then quickly texted a note of apology to Angela. She’d already missed the proposed meeting at the attorney’s office. She couldn’t think straight after staring at endless highway for hours on end. Better to hit the bank early tomorrow when it opened, retrieve the lockbox contents, and meet Angela and her attorney later. After running Shadow for the next half-hour or so, she’d want a hot shower, a light meal, a warm bed, and no conversation other than purrs and wags until morning. She hoped Angela understood.

  September stepped out of the car, shrugging into her
down-filled jacket. She dropped keys into one massive pocket that held her wallet and donned the bump cap to keep hair out of her eyes. She pulled up the hood over the cap and snugged the cord close to her throat. The tunnel-like vision kept wind and snow from blowing down her neck. She opened the back door for Shadow to hop out and quickly snicked the lead onto his collar.

  Macy meowed, but had no interest in leaving his snug carrier. She’d let him race around once they got to their hotel.

  September juggled to put on her gloves and grab one of Shadow’s favorite tug toys, which she stuffed in one pocket. Her hands, already blue-white from the change in temperature, signaled an impending Reynaud’s episode, and needed all the protection they could get. Shadow led the way to the fenced “big dog” area and September securely latched the gate before she unhooked his leash. He raced to the far corner before sniffing carefully and posing. She pulled out a plastic bag and followed.

  Halfway across the space her phone buzzed with an incoming text. She struggled to fish the phone from her pocket without dropping it into the deepening snow. Before she was able to read Angela’s text response, September recognized an incoming call and grinned.

  “So how’s Disney World treating you? Having fun yet?” Kids’ voices in the background laughed and shrieked with excitement.