| Subject: Ice on Fire, 2 |
Author:
B/BoX
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Date Posted: 22:23:31 12/15/01 Sat
In reply to:
BonnieBoX
's message, "Ice on Fire" on 07:06:59 12/15/01 Sat
##
Something buzzed in my ear. I swatted at it, but the sound continued. Loud. Obnoxious. Persistent.
"Beat it," I mumbled, rolling my pillow over my head. "Go ‘way. Now." Then awareness hit me like a splash of cold water right in the kisser. I jolted awake. Jeez. The phone. I fumbled in the dark for the ringing menace, and accidentally tipped over the stand. Caught it in time. Found the ear-piece as I shoved the strands of hair away from my mouth, half sat up, leaned towards the telephone receiver. " ‘Lo?" I cleared the cobwebs away from my throat. "Hello?" I repeated, feeling slow and stupid with sleepiness. "Yeah, hello, Mack. Hell of a time to call." I squinted at my clock. The hands pointed to three in the morning. "What is it?"
"You better get down here. It’s Hillinger." Business stamped out all the usual teasing in his smooth baritone.
I scratched my head, yawned. "What is it this time? Drunk and disorderly? Why wake me up? Let him sleep it off in the joint for a change. Teach him a lesson. He could use a good lesson."
Except for the line crackling, there was complete silence. Then Mack laughed shortly, without a trace of humor.
I sat up, wrapped my blanket around me. Tight. "What is it? Bad?"
"Bad as can be. Hillinger won’t be needing any lessons any more. He’s caught the big one this time. The Big Sleep. So you and Walter better come down. Stockton and Bush. Careful, Nikita. You hear me?"
"But what …" Mack hung up before I could finish saying anything more. I held the phone for a moment as if hoping that he’d say something else, some tag, like this was just another one of his fool tricks. But I didn’t hear any last minute denials. Only the drone of the dial tone. I jammed the ear-piece back on to the phone, swung my feet over the side of the bed, then buried my face into my hands.
Damn. The truth sank in. Hillinger had been a horse’s ass, but he’d been useful in his own way, had been willing to go along with our cock-eyed set-up. It would be a lot of trouble to find someone else. Most guys wouldn’t work with a lady detective, no matter how swift or smart. The better I got, the worse it was. Sometimes I wished I was just another dame with more accessories than brains. That wasn't me. Killed me to pretend otherwise. Uncle Walter always said I was born before my time. But my time was now. And now … Now, we’d have to start all over again. Once we had buried our dead.
I stood up, pushed the bed back into the sofa, leaned backwards, stretching. I shambled across the living room where I slept, careful to make a lot of warning noise along the way to Uncle Walter’s bedroom.
I lifted my fist, but the door opened quickly before I had a chance to knock. "Lani?"
She glided over the threshold into the hallway, then shut the door just as quickly behind her, the up-draft ruffling through her long black hair. Lani clutched the front of her red dressing gown, a single finger poised over her lips. Then she took my hand. Even though I towered over her, she pulled me down the hall and into the kitchen as if I didn’t outweigh her by a couple of stone.
"Sorry to wake you."
Lani tilted her head up to look at me, and laughed quietly. "Don’t worry. I’m a light sleeper, yeah. I couldn’t stay in the business if I slept heavy. I have to be ready whenever the law wants to dance with me, you know. That is, when they're not drinking with me." Her almond eyes tipped further with amusement.
"Yeah, you're a business woman. You got to keep one step ahead. Make sure they don't tread on your toes." Lani ran one of the biggest bootleg operations behind her twenty-four hour Chinese laundry. A ticket for two shirts, no starch, could buy you two bottles of the best bourbon in town. "I need to speak with Uncle Walter. It’s important."
"The phone call. It’s bad, yeah? A death. I can see it in your eyes." Her singsong cadence washed over me like the warm waters of her island home, and soothed my nerves as it always did. Her calmness was a balm. She flipped on the light, and we both pretended to ignore the roaches skittering furtively across the linoleum. Lani belted her robe, then folded her arms. "Who is it, Nikita?
"Hillinger."
"Ah ... That one. So his luck finally ran out. The way he acted. Long overdue for a fall. I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner. Go get dressed. You'll need some tea, yeah?"
"No time."
"There's always time. First things first. The dead aren't going anywhere." She picked up the kettle from the stove, and turned to the sink with the natural loose-limbed grace of a dancer. Lani yanked the faucet. Water thrummed into the kettle. She always moved as if to some silent music that only she could hear. "Go on. I'll see to Walter."
##
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