The Fifth Avenue Series Boxed Set (50 page)

“So, I can’t wear it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I would feel a hell of a lot more comfortable if someone with experience put the blindfold on and jumped first—like Jack.
 
That way I can see how it goes and hopefully feel more comfortable with it.”

Celina was about to speak when Jack held up a hand.
 
He looked at Simpson and said with a grin, “I wish I could go first, Steve.
 
But she won’t let me.”

“Won’t let you?”

“That’s right.”

“Why not?”

“Because we tossed a coin before we left the city and it came up heads.
 
She jumps first.”

“I don’t believe this.”

Celina crossed her arms.
 
For a moment, her fear of jumping was replaced by impatience.
 
She wanted this over with.
 
“Believe it,” she said.
 
“Now, can we get on with this?
 
I’m sure these other people would like a chance to jump.”

Simpson looked at the group of twelve other jumpers who were waiting behind them, saw the impatience on their faces and made his decision.
 
“Forget it,” he said to Celina.
 
“Either you jump without the blindfold, or you don’t jump at all.”

Celina felt her face flush.
 
This was ridiculous!
 
What harm was there in wearing a stupid blindfold?
 
Before she could protest, a tall man with dark hair and sharp features stepped away from the group of other jumpers and said, “I have a suggestion.”

Celina looked at the man.
 
He was wearing a black T-shirt, white shorts and dark sunglasses.
 
He looked familiar to her, though she hadn’t noticed him on the walk up.
 
“What’s that?” she asked.

“Why don’t I jump first?
 
I’m experienced, you’ll still be able to jump before your friend and I’ll wear the blindfold so Steve here can judge for himself if it’s safe.”

Celina turned to Steve.
 
“Well?” she said.
 
“What do you think?”

“Depends on how long he’s been jumping.”

“Two years,” Vincent Spocatti said.
 
“At a park in Texas.”

*
  
*
  
*

“My partner is in a raft anchored beneath the bridge,” Simpson said to Spocatti.
 
“If you lean forward, you can see him.”

Spocatti gripped the footbridge’s wooden handrail, leaned forward and saw bobbing in the river an orange raft that seated eight.
 
The man sitting in it waved up to them.
 
Although it was difficult to tell from this height, the man looked half Spocatti’s size.

“You about ready?” Simpson asked.

Spocatti nodded.

“Take a deep breath if you’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.”

Simpson had noticed this.
 
Even experienced jumpers started to sweat a little when it came time to jump.
 
This one would be wearing a blindfold for the first time—and yet he seemed absolutely cool.

“You sure you want to wear that blindfold?”

Spocatti glanced over at Celina, who was standing behind him with her arm around Jack.
 
She smiled at him.
 
He smiled back, relieved she hadn’t recognized him from the opening of The Redman International Building.
 
He supposed the sunglasses, strapped to his head, helped.

“I’m sure,” he said.

“Then let’s do it.”

Simpson knelt, wrapped a nylon strap around Spocatti’s ankles, pulled it tight and snapped a series of buckles.
 
While the bungee was being hooked to the strap, Spocatti glanced downriver. Parked in a discreet clearing next to one of the park’s many dirt roads, two of his men were waiting for him in a Range Rover.

Simpson stood and slapped him on the back, indicating it was time to jump.
 
Holding onto the railing with one hand, Spocatti lowered the blindfold with the other.
 
With the sudden darkness, his senses became acute.
 
He could hear the river roiling beneath him, the cry of a crow flying overhead.
 
Against his thigh, he could feel the small pocketknife he had zipped into one of his pockets.

If Celina gave him too much trouble, he would carve her a new necklace.

“I’m going to count down from five,” Simpson said.
 
“When I’m finished, I want you to dive out as far as you can.
 
Understand?”

Spocatti nodded.

The countdown began.

When Simpson reached zero, Spocatti pushed off the bridge without hesitation and plummeted to the river in a graceful arc.
 
Celina moved forward with the crowd and watched.
 
His arms outstretched, his head lifted high, Spocatti seemed to be flying—then the bungee went taut and cracked him like a whip.

He didn’t scream or yell or shout.
 
There was no whoop of joy or exhilaration.
 
He simply shot back toward the bridge and began to bounce.
 
It was over in less than a minute.
 
He was lowered to the raft.

When the bungee and blindfold were pulled back, Simpson looked at Celina.
 
Her face was pale.
 
She was squeezing Jack’s arm with one hand, swatting a mosquito with the other.

“I’m satisfied,” he said.
 
“You next?”

“Is that even a question?” Celina asked.
 
“Piece of cake.”

“Try to concentrate,” Simpson said to her.
 
“Push everything from your mind and think only of the jump.
 
Nothing is going to happen to you.
 
I promise you that.
 
Soon you’ll be safe in the raft and wearing what we jumpers call the post-bungee grin.”

Although she heard little of what he said, Celina took a deep breath and nodded.
 
Once again, she was standing at the edge of the footbridge, holding onto the rail behind her with tightly clenched hands.
 
In the raft below, Spocatti and Simpson’s assistant were looking up.
 
They seemed a thousand miles away.

Celina put the blindfold in place and wondered why she was doing this.
 
Why did she always have to prove to herself and to others that she was every bit as strong, every bit as brave, every bit as smart as a man?
 
So, I need therapy.
 
Great.

She felt a hand on her arm.
 
“Are you all right?” Jack asked.

“I’m fine,” she lied.

“You sure you want to go through with this?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Want to have lunch with me later?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“I love you,” he said.

Celina gave a start.
  
She couldn’t have heard him right.
  
But when he squeezed her arm and gently kissed her cheek, she knew she had.
 
He loves me
, she thought.
 
If there’d been time, she would have told him that she loved him too.
 
But before she could, Jack stepped aside so Simpson could strap the bungee to her ankles.

“Okay, Celina,” he said.
 
“I’m going to count down from five.
 
Just jump out as far as you can and the cord will do the rest.
 
You ready?”

She nodded.

“All right, then.
 
Here we go.”

And he began to count.

Celina’s mind whirled.
 
With each number spoken, she felt her heart beat a little faster, her breathing become a little shallower, her hands grip the rail a little tighter.
 
She wondered what would happen if the cord broke.
 
She thought of the raft and the security it represented.
 
She thought of her father, her mother and even Leana.
 
She thought of last night with Jack, of the words he just spoke to her.
 
And then, at the same moment Simpson shouted “Jump!” and she leapt into the air, she realized she had to pee.

It was a nightmare.

The wind whipped through her hair and snatched the blindfold from her face.
 
She saw trees, rocks and water racing toward her.
 
Her stomach lurched.
 
Her bladder went.
 
The world blurred. And the bungee went taut.

She stopped just short of hitting the river, there was an instant when her eyes met Spocatti’s, and then she was being catapulted away from him and the attendant and the raft, toes first, toward the bridge—where she began to plummet again.

When the bouncing finally stopped and the attendant helped her into the raft, Spocatti took her by the hand and led her to one of the wooden seats, where she sat, exhausted.

“Fun, isn’t it?” he asked.

Celina was about to say it hadn’t been fun at all—it had been horrifying—when Spocatti suddenly slipped, fell hard against the side of the raft and capsized it, sending them all into the water.

*
  
*
  
*

“Something’s wrong,” Jack said.
 
“They’re in the water.
 
The raft’s upside down.”

Simpson joined him at the rail and leaned forward as far as he could.
 
In the river below, he could see only the swiftly moving water and the anchored, upturned raft.

No bodies.

“I don’t see Celina,” Jack said.
 
“Where is she?”

Simpson could only stare as those waiting to jump joined them at the rail.
 

“Where the hell is your attendant, Steve?
 
Where’s the man who jumped first?”

“I don’t see them.”

Jack climbed quickly over the rail.
 
“Strap the other bungee to my ankles.”

“Jack—”

“Move!”

Simpson did as he was told, moving like an automaton while his mind tried to make sense of the situation.
 
“I don’t like this,” he said to Jack as he pulled the nylon strap tight.
 
“It’s dangerous. There’s no one down there to release you.”

“I’ll release myself.
 
Just get me down there.”
 

He looked at the strap, then at the fraying bungee cord that was attached to it and coiled beside him.
 
“Ready?” he said to Steve.

At the same instant Simpson nodded, Jack jumped.