|
12
Don must have given these guys some story about hiding his stash here, in her apartment. He was in jail, and they wanted their drugs back. The image of the decapitated body in the dumpster burned into her mind. She cursed herself for letting Jill meet Don here. Diane felt sick as the dark intruder tightly wound the cord around one of her ankles.
Harry walked slowly, but deliberately along his familiar path. He considered going back for another round several times, but the chill kept him moving. What had gotten to her like that? he wondered. Did she hate him that much? He quickly recalled Diane's less than endearing names for him and drew in his breath. "Yep, no one's got a way with women like Harry Denby. A profoundly rare talent for leaving wreckage in his wake." Shoulders drawn up against the cold, hands deep in his pockets, he picked up his pace until at last, he came around the corner across the street from Diane's apartment building. After a quick look at the door of the building he behind him, he focused ahead and saw two nervous looking men in dark clothes standing out front. Harry instinctively stopped and slid back behind the corner. A few moments later he peeked around to look at them again. There was just enough light from the street lamp to make out their faces when they turned his direction. Dominicans. He knew those faces well from the pictures in their files back at the prosecutor's office. The very lot that he was gathering evidence against was now staked out in front of Diane's apartment. "Shit." Harry had to get in there. He had to get to Diane. He ran back down the block and around the building. As he snuck across the street on the other side his heart began to pound in his chest causing him to inhale loudly, even though he was not out of breath. Scanning the dark for other watchers, he carefully found the back entrance to the apartments. The unlocked door was heavy, but he sucessfully kept it propped open with his foot as he checked inside. No one.
|