Callahan's Fate (22 page)

“That’ll change, if things work out.”

Her cheeks warmed, and she refilled her
cup to prevent either man from noticing her blush.

“It will,” Callahan said.

Raine
fumbled and
spilled coffee down her sweater.
 
She
leaped up as the hot liquid burned through two layers.
“Oh,
no!”

Callahan grabbed a handful of paper
napkins and tried to blot it without success. “I’m sorry, doll.”

“It’s okay.” She would just wear a brown
coffee stain the rest of the day and endure the moisture.
 
At least it smelled good.

Al crushed out his smoke. “If she
don’t
mind wearing an old pullover of mine, we can run her
clothes through the wash.
 
I got a washer
and dryer stackable unit in the kitchen.”

“It’s up to her.
Raine
?”

“Sure,” she said. “Is there someplace I
can change?”

“My bedroom’s right there,” Al said and
pointed. “The pullover is in the top bureau drawer.”

“Thanks,” she said and went where he
indicated.
 
Raine
shut the bedroom door and stripped out of her stained clothing.
 
Her red sweater and the blouse worn beneath
were both soaked.
 
Her bra was a little
damp, but she’d rather keep it on so she opened the drawer.
 
She located the sweatshirt, an old Giants
one, and when she pulled it out,
Raine
found a .32
pistol.

She pulled on the top and started toward
the door but stopped when she heard the two men talking.

“So did you come up with anything, Pop?”

The older man’s voice was so low it
almost sounded like a growl. “You
ain’t
gonna
like it, Buddy.”

“Just tell me.”

“I got two different ideas.
 
The first one depends on when he’s burying
his brother. Do you know?”

After a pause, Callahan said, “No.
 
I’d rather not intrude on a funeral.
 
I loathe this guy and all he’s done, but I
know what it’s like to bury a brother firsthand.”

Al snorted. “I figured you’d say that.
So here’s the only other idea I got. If you want this Snake character, you’ll
need to draw him out somehow, and to do so it’s
gonna
need bait.”

“Bait?”
Callahan
sounded upset or mad,
Raine
wasn’t sure which.

“Yeah, you or her,” Al told him. “I told
you that you wouldn’t like it.”

“I don’t.
 
And I’m not putting
Raine
at risk.”

“Buddy, don’t you get it? She already is
and was the minute they saw her with you.”

Although the old man spoke in a
matter-of-fact tone, his statement chilled her more than all Callahan’s
warnings.
 
Raine
put her hand on the doorknob, ready to end this, when Cal spoke.

“Yeah, I know. That’s the problem. I’ll
put my own ass on the line but not hers.”

“Then you’re
gonna
have to have her back 24/7.”

Callahan’s sigh echoed like the wind
under eaves in winter. “It’s
kinda
hard.
 
See, she’s a teacher…”

“I know that already.”

“She teaches kids who are in juvenile
detention and drug rehabs and hospitals and community centers, the at-risk
students who need extra help,” Callahan told him. “And she goes to all the boroughs,
to a different place every day of the week.
 
I got her to take off today, but she doesn’t want to take a leave of
absence.”

“Send her home, Buddy, to keep her
safe.”

“I tried but she says no, and she’s
stubborn.”

Her ears caught the distinct rasp of a
match,
then
she inhaled tobacco smoke as Al lit
another cigarette. “I can tell,” Al said in a dry tone. “But here’s the thing—and
I’m not trying to scare you—if you don’t take care of this, get Snake or
whatever his name is outta the picture, you’re both
gonna
die.
 
And that’ll kill me, Buddy, you
know it would.
 
And it won’t do much for
Anthony’s boys.”

“Don’t say this shit,
Pop
.”

“I wish I didn’t have to, kid. But there
it is.”

“Okay, so look into that crystal ball
brain of yours and tell me this—where will the confrontation, and I know
there’s
gonna
be one, go down?
The
Bronx?
Lower East Side?
Where?”

“Shit if I know for sure,” Al said. “I
think it’s the theater district, maybe Times Square, somewhere near there.
 
But I’m not always one hundred percent right
either.”

“You’re right most of the time. So what
if we just stay away from that area?”

“Fate will find you sooner or later
anyway. You know that.”

Callahan groaned and he must have buried
his face in both hands, because his words were muffled. “Yeah, I do. Shit.”

Neither man spoke for several moments,
then Callahan said, “Is there a chance we’ll both make it through this and come
out alive?”

“Damn straight there is,” the old man
answered. “It’s all in your hands, though.”

“Great,” Cal muttered.
“Just fuckin’ great.”

“Just keep her with you as much as you
can.”

He mumbled something
Raine
couldn’t hear, but the old man laughed. “Yeah, that’ll do for when she’s not
working.”

She had heard more than enough.
 
Raine
burst through
the door, her stained clothing in her arms. “Where’s the washer?”

Since the kitchen space filled one wall
of the large living room, it was a dumb question but she had to say
something.
 
Callahan rose. “I’ll show
you,” he said.
 
He put his arm across the
small of her back and propelled her toward the kitchen. “You might need help
with running the thing. It’s a dinosaur.”

Callahan took the clothes from her and
loaded the washer. “Here’s how you work it,” he said, demonstrating.
 
He leaned closer. “How much did you hear?”

“All of it, I think.”

“
Whaddya
think?”

Raine
resisted an
urge to put her head against his shoulder and bawl. “I’m more scared than
before, and that’s saying something. I didn’t think I could be.”

“Doll, we’ll see this thing through
somehow. I promise.”

“Is that with you as bait or me?”

His head shook back and forth. “I’d
prefer neither, but I guess we’ll see.”

“Yes, I suppose we will.
 
What do we do now?”

From the living room a few feet away,
Pop
answered. “I got these photo albums you might want to
see,
Raine
.”

“Aw, Pop, don’t bring those out!”
Callahan sounded unhappy. “She won’t want to see old pictures of me.”

If anything could distract her from fear
and take her mind off their situation, snapshots of Callahan as a kid would do
the trick. “I’d love to see them.”

Two hours of flipping through photograph
albums and breathing secondhand smoke caused
Raine
to
have a major headache.
 
She enjoyed the
few photos of Callahan, one as a baby, another as a toddler taken at Coney
Island, a family portrait with his parents and brothers, school pictures, his
high school graduation portrait, and a photo taken at his police academy
graduation.
 
The others were older
pictures, and although she pretended polite interest, she became bored long
before lunch.

Pop insisted that they stay and brought
out a variety of cold cuts he’d bought from the nearest deli. “There’s pickle
loaf and pepper loaf,” he said.
“Also, bologna and cooked ham
and some salami.
I bought longhorn and Muenster cheese.
 
There’s plenty of mustard and mayo in the
fridge.
 
I got sodas, too.”

With her head pounding like a carpenter
on overtime,
Raine
lacked much appetite, but she
liked the old man so she forced down a pepper loaf sandwich.
 
She drank a Pepsi and took some ibuprofen
from her purse.
 
Although she’d
participated in the conversation as much as she could, Callahan leaned over,
“Baby, are you okay? You’re pretty quiet.”

“I’ve got a headache,” she said.

He folded his hand against his forehead
like a parent checking for fever. “Do you want to go home?”

She nodded. “I need to get my clothes
from the dryer.”

Pop jumped to his feet. “I’ll get them
for you, kiddo.
 
Go ahead and change,
take anything you need.”

Raine
accepted her
clean clothes and headed for the bedroom. On the way, she picked up her purse
so when she changed they would be ready to go.
 
Once dressed, she put the borrowed sweatshirt into the hamper she
spotted in one corner.
 
She hesitated for
a moment as Pop’s words ran through her mind, and on impulse she opened the
dresser drawer and put the .32 into her bag.

She had no idea why but it seemed
important, and maybe she’d need it.
 
Callahan would have a fit if he knew, and New York City had strict gun
laws, but
Raine
went with her instinct.
 
I hope
I don’t regret it.

Chapter Fifteen

On the trip home,
Raine
sat back in the train seat, eyes closed, as limp as dirty laundry.
 
Callahan thought she looked pale, but he said
nothing.
 
He’d already checked to make
sure she wasn’t running a fever.
 
He
figured stress was taking a toll and no wonder.
 
As they crossed the Hudson, he touched her
hand. “Baby, we’ll be at the station in a few minutes.”

Raine
opened her eyes
and nodded. “Okay.”

At Penn Station, she accepted his
offered hand.
 
As they worked their way
through the crowds, he leaned over to ask, “Hey, you want a soda or something?”

“No, I’m good.”

“How’s your head?”

She offered him a faint smile. “It still
hurts.”

“We can stop at Duane Reade on Eighth
Avenue if you need some medicine or something.”

“Maybe.”

Her lack of enthusiasm concerned him.
“Are you sick, doll?”

“No, I don’t think so,” she replied.
“I’ve just got a killer headache.
 
I get
them sometimes, not migraines but bad tension ones.
 
I really just want to go home and lie down
for a while, but I’m almost out of ibuprofen.”

Callahan tightened his grasp on her
hand. “C’mon. Let’s get you home.”

Once
Raine
settled into bed, wearing just a T-shirt and panties, the covers tucked around
her and an ice pack on her head, he headed off to the drugstore with a
list.
 
As he walked the few blocks up to
Eighth Avenue, Callahan focused on the face of everyone he passed.
 
He peered at the ones tucked into a doorway
smoking, and he tried to scan the crowds on the opposite side of the
street.
 
None resembled Snake so he
continued on to Duane Reade.
 
After
buying
Raine’s
over-the-counter medication, a couple
of cold sodas, and a few snacks, he headed back to the apartment.

He found her asleep so he pulled the
blinds down and waited. To pass the time, he switched on his laptop and
surfed
the web.
 
Callahan scanned Bull’s obituary, then checked on Broadway shows.
 
He’d promised to take
Raine
to one soon so he perused the possibilities. Several times she stirred but
didn’t wake, and when she did, she sat up in bed, blinking.

“Callahan?”

“I’m right here,
doll
.”

“Come here, please.”

Once he settled down on the bed facing
her, she took his hand and held it. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Are you going to use me as bait?”

“No,” he said.
“God,
no.
 
If you were listening, you
heard me say I wouldn’t.”

“I was, but I want you to do it.”

“
Raine
, forget
it.” No way in hell did he intend to put her out there as a
target.