Fifth Ave 02.5 - From Manhattan With Love (3 page)

“We’re on deadline.”

“You have a way with words.”

“So, are you ready to kill me?”

CHAPTER FOUR

Outside, they walked over to Fifth and took the Children’s Entrance at the 76th Street entrance to the Park.
 

It was fall and there was a chill in the air.
 
Carmen discretely took in her surroundings and she could sense Alex doing the same.
 
In the city, it was still early for a Saturday night and there were several people on Fifth, including one woman who was jogging down the street, her blonde ponytail snapping behind her as if it had a personality of its own.
 

Nobody here set off alarms.
 
It appeared as if they were as alone as they were going to get.
 

Alex put his arm around her and drew her in close.
 
At first she was surprised by the gesture.
 
But then, when his forearm brushed the butt of her gun, she wondered if that’s why he’d done it.
 

Each knew the other was carrying, but neither knew exactly where.
 
Now, Alex knew.
 
She put her arm around his waist and felt nothing but muscle.
 
His gun was either inside the blazer he was wearing at dinner or it was strapped to one of his calves.

They walked down the right sidewalk.
 
A few other nighttime joggers zipped past them and as they did, Carmen could hear from their ear pods a range of music styles in their wake.
 
Jazz.
 
Hip-hop.
 
Even opera.
 

When it appeared that no one was around them, she took Alex by the hand, stepped over one of the low iron fences and hopped over onto a grassy knoll.
 
Below them, in a protective enclave of bushes, they could get this over with.

“Where to?” he said.

“Just over there.
 
In the curve of those bushes.”

“You know this place?”

“I’ve used it before.”
 
The irony that she herself might die here was not lost on her.
 
As they approached the bushes, she could feel her heart ramp up and start to pound in her ears.
 
Adrenaline shot through her.
 
She wondered if she was making a mistake.
 
He might kill her.
 
It was possible.
 
Or maybe he did have feelings for her and would stick to her plan.
 
She didn’t know.
 
She gave his hand a final squeeze and then let go of it.

“I’m not going to kill you, Carmen.”

“I’m not going to let you,” she said.
 
“But if I fail, at least make it quick.
 
I’ll return the favor.”
 
She looked up at him, but with the moon shining behind him, she had difficulty seeing his face.
 
“I’m going to reach into my handbag and remove the bottle.”

“I don’t think you understand,” he said.
 
“I meant it when I said I trust you.”

She wanted to believe it, but her instinct told her to follow protocol.
 
She knew he was watching her and judging her moves.
 
She knew he was every bit as nervous and as dangerous as she was.
 
They were the same person, only different gender.

She pulled out the bottle and handed it to him.
 

“I’m going to lie down there,” she said, pointing to the ground.
 
“Just spatter my forehead with the sauce, put some in my hair and then dump the rest of it around me on the grass.
 
Don’t spread it too thinly.
 
We want to lay it on thick so there will be enough of it to shine in the flash when you take your photo.
 
Where’s your camera?”

He reached into his pocket and instinctively, her arm fell at her side.
 
She was wearing a short jacket.
 
If he pulled a gun on her, she could bust out his knee, pull out her own gun as he fell and finish him off quickly, just as she promised.

But he pulled out his camera.

“You look worried,” he said.

“The next few minutes are going to tell me everything I need to know about you and where we go from here if you make the right choice.”

“Lay on the ground.”

She eased back so her eyes never left him and scooted into position, doing so in such a way that her hand was behind her and within inches of her gun.
 

Now, with the moon fully at his back, it was even more difficult to see him.
 
All she could make out was a hulking shape of a man wearing a thick top coat.
 
She could see the bottle in his right hand, the camera in his left.
 
She also could hear the unevenness of his own breath.

“Take the sauce, pour a bit on your fingertips and spatter my face with it.”

She watched him put the camera back in his pocket and then prepare his hands with the liquid.
 
He knelt down close to her and asked her if she was ready.
 
She said she was, but she wasn’t.
 
She couldn’t let the sauce get in her eyes.
 
It would blind her if it did.
 
She had no choice but to close her eyes for an instant, which unnerved her.
 

“Go,” she said.

She closed her eyes and felt the sauce pepper her face.
 
She opened her eyes and told him to pour a bit on the left side of her forehead, which he did.

“Mash it around,” she said.
 
“Get it in my hair.”

He followed through, gently massaging it in such a way that it looked as if she’d taken a bullet just above her hairline.

“Now pour the rest just to the left of my head.”

He got down closer to her and as he did, he dipped down to kiss her.
 
She kissed him back.
 
She reached up and held his face with the palm of her hand and he kissed her harder.
 
She wanted to trust him.
 
She’d never felt this way for any man.
 
She felt a wave of anxiety come over her when they parted and he poured the rest of the sauce just around her head.
 
When he was finished, he stood, put the cap back on the bottle and the bottle back in his jacket.
 
He wiped his hands on the grass.

“Are you ready for your close-up?” he asked.

Every part of her body screamed that she wasn’t, but when she spoke, she said that she was ready.

He dipped his hand into his pocket, presumably to remove the camera.

“Make your dead face,” he said.

She made it, twisting her mouth and keeping her eyes open in shock and horror while looking just to the right of him.
 
Now, she was at her most vulnerable.
 
He knew and she knew it.
 
Her heart was ramming against her chest.

“I love you,” he said.

Why are you telling me that now?

CHAPTER FIVE

The light from the camera blinded her, but she didn’t move.
 
She kept her dead face on in spite of the relief and the confusion that now washed over her.
 
He didn’t shoot her.
 
He just said he loved her.
 
Now, what was she going to do?

When he finished, he offered her his hand, she took it and stood in front of him.
 
He removed a handkerchief from his jacket pocket, wiped her face clean and then dabbed the sauce from her head.
 

“Not the best perfume you’ve worn,” he said.

“Are you kidding?
 
It’s practically made for men.”

He kissed her on the forehead and then on the lips.
 
“I meant what I said.
 
I wasn’t joking.
 
I love you.”

She didn’t know what to say to him.
 
Carmen never had been in a lasting relationship.
 
She wasn’t sure whether she’d ever been in love.
 
Or if she was even capable of love.
 
“Alex--”

“And I’m glad that I said it.
 
I want out of this life.
 
It’s time to start over.
 
With you.
 
I think you feel the same.”

“I have several jobs I’ve committed to after this one.
 
I’m sure you have the same.
 
You know that once we’ve accepted the upfront money, the deal is sealed.
 
There’s no getting out of it.
 
You know the consequences if we even tried to get out of it.”

“Then we do the jobs,” he said.
 
“We finish what we’ve lined up, then we walk out of this life.
 
Together.”

It was too much.
 
She hadn’t been expecting any of this.
 
She needed time alone to think and to process it.
 
Walking out of anything that yielding her tens of millions of dollars each year when she was in her prime was something she wasn’t going to do lightly.

Focus
.

“You’ve got to send them a photo,” she said.
 
“It’s past nine.
 
We’ll talk about the rest of this later.”
 

His camera was wireless and had a simple email function that could jettison any photo he chose to anyone he wished.
 
They went through the photos and chose the best one.

“So, that’s what I’ll look like if someone guns me down?” Carmen said.
 
“Not my best look.”

“But that’s how it
will
look,” he said.
 
“Do you want that?
 
We can get out of this, Carmen.
 
We can live a normal life together.”

She ignored him, though she’d be lying if she said the photo didn’t have an effect on her.
 
“We need to buy some time.
 
Are you able to include any text with the photo?”

He nodded.

“Write this,” she said.
 
“‘She’s dead, but it didn’t go as planned.
 
She shot me in the arm.
 
I can’t go to a hospital because when they see why I’m there, they’re required to call the police.
 
I need to get to a pharmacy and then to a hotel room to take out the bullet myself.
 
I won’t be able to catch the plane, but I’ll be in touch.
 
Send an email when the money’s in my account.’”

He finished typing.
 
“That it?”

“That’s it.”

He hit the send button.
 
“Now what?”