Ghost of a Chance

Once he had slipped the brass knuckles into his jacket pocket and put on his shoulder holster, Alex closed the vault. Next he used Hannah’s phone to call Iggy. He explained about the strange rune and asked the doctor to meet Hannah at his office, and to bring his silver pocketwatch. His preparations complete, Alex hung up the phone and turned back to Hannah.

“All right then,” Alex said with a nod. “I want you to wait five minutes after I leave, then go straight to the crawler station. Don’t worry, I’ll be watching.”

“What are you going to do once you find the man watching me?”

Alex shrugged.

“Once I get the drop on him, I was thinking of tying him to a chair and beating your husband’s location out of him. Unless you have a problem with that sort of thing,” he added.

Hannah looked around at her ransacked apartment and then at the burn mark on her arm.

“No,” she said. “No problem at all.”

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Alex stood just inside the window display at a five and dime near his office. It was positioned perfectly in the block between the crawler station and his office on the opposite side of the street.

For the fifth time, Alex brushed his hand against the slight bulge under his left arm, feeling the 1911’s reassuring bulk. He didn’t have to remind himself that the man following Hannah was in league with whoever tried to kill him yesterday. There was a real chance he might try to kill Hannah before she could get to Alex’s office.

He took a puff on his cigarette and tried to calm his nerves. He knew it was an indulgence, but he’d bought a pack of smokes from the five and dime to help with the waiting.

As refreshing as it was to have cigarettes again, it really wasn’t helping calm his nerves.

At least Jessica’s potion is working, he thought, looking at his steady fingers.

He swore.

Jessica.

He was supposed to go back and see her yesterday and he’d completely forgotten.

Getting shot will do that.

Smoking his cigarette down to the nub, Alex resolved to see Jessica tonight, if he had time. The idea wasn’t unpleasant, of course, but he had to find Leroy first.

As if on cue, Hannah came hurrying by on the far side of the street. She walked purposefully, but to her credit, she wasn’t running.

Alex moved to the door and looked out through the glass. A moment later a man in a gray suit walked by with his hands in his pockets. He didn’t seem to be following, but his steps were quick, much faster than his nonchalant demeanor would suggest. Of course, he had to walk fast if he didn’t want to lose Hannah.

Slipping out of the five and dime, Alex turned up the street and began walking parallel to the man in the gray suit. Once Hannah ducked into the lobby of Alex’s building, gray suit crossed the street, heading for an alley between two buildings just a little ways up.

With Hannah safely in his office, Alex turned the corner of the street and broke into a run. He circled the block, reaching the other end of the alley where Hannah’s tail had vanished and peeked around the corner.

At the far end of the alley, the man in the gray suit was smoking a cigarette and watching Alex’s building.

Taking care to be quiet, Alex moved carefully along the alley. The man in the gray suit never took his eyes off the building across the street. He clearly wasn’t expecting trouble.

Alex reached inside his coat and tugged his 1911 free.

“Hold it,” he said when he was only a few feet away.

The man jumped but froze when he saw the gun. He almost jumped again when his eyes darted up to Alex’s face.

“Bet you weren’t expecting to see me?” Alex said with a grin. “Was it you who shot me in the back yesterday?”

The man’s face hardened into a mask, but Alex didn’t care; his reaction had told the story.

Alex looked the man over carefully. There was a tell-tale bulge in the right pocket of his jacket. He looked young, in his twenties, with tanned skin and dark hair. His face was blocky and angular with a prominent nose.

Indian heritage, Alex thought.

“You want to tell me where the girl’s husband is now, or does this have to get ugly?”

“Don’t look at me,” the man said with a shrug. He had a sullen, Jersey accent that tended to slur his words. “I just get paid to follow the girl. I don’t know nothin’ about any missing husband.”

“A liar and a back-shooter,” Alex said. “Your mother must be so proud.”

The man’s face curled into a sneer for an instant, then he relaxed.

“You shouldn’t meddle in things that aren’t your business,” he said with an easy air.

“Like what, for instance?”

He just smiled and shook his head.

“It’s your funeral,” Alex said, nodding toward the street. “Let’s go. I’m sure Hannah will want to talk to you.”

“You should worry about yourself,” he said, turning to face Alex squarely.

The move was odd, but Alex didn’t think anything of it, he had a .45 caliber semi-automatic pistol pointed straight at the man, after all.