Hit & Mrs. (17 page)

The two of them sat opposite each other on the beds. “I don't like this, Lin.”

Linda shut her eyes. “This is an unmitigated disaster. Why, oh why did we come?”

“Adventure?”

She opened her eyes. “Adventure, yes; punishment, no. Did you see that little madam? Did you see how young she was? She could be Wes's girlfriend.”

Bette waved her hand. “Forget her. She's not worth talking about. It's the girls I'm worried about.”

Linda folded her arms across her chest and rocked. She did that when she was deep in thought, or very worried. “But what did she mean, a girl with a baby asking for me?”

They had the same thought at the same time.

“The girl at the airport,” Bette cried. “She must be looking for us.”

“But why me?”

Bette pondered for a moment. “In the ladies' room, I told her we were going to the Waldorf, and I mentioned your last name being the same as her son's name. She must have remembered that and when my name wasn't on the register, she tried yours. She's a clever girl, if nothing else.”

“And when she asked for Mrs. Keaton, they told her the wrong one. It makes sense now.”

“Well, the poor child, having to deal with Ryan. I'll never get my purse now.”

Linda jumped from the bed. “Wait, maybe Gemma and Augusta ran into her. Where's the bag with the bear in it?”

They looked and unfortunately found it right away. “Darn. There goes that theory.”

Bette paced back and forth from the window to the bathroom. She looked at her watch. “This is nuts. Where are they? I know darn well they wouldn't have gone anywhere. Gemma was too upset about the store episode. Try Augusta's cell again.”

Linda did, and it was still off. “So what do we do now?”

“Wait.”

So they waited and waited and waited, and then when they couldn't wait any longer, they still had to wait; there was no word from their friends.

CHAPTER NINE

“Will you shut that kid up?” Dumber yelled at them from the front seat. “He's making me crazy.”

“He's scared, that's all.” Gracie held Keaton tighter, but he continued to wail.

“He'll be more than scared in a minute.”

Gemma leaned forward. “My, that's really brave, threatening a baby like that. Your mother must be so proud.”

“Keep your mouth shut, lady.”

Augusta leaned closer to Gemma. “Stop pissing them off.”

“Sorry. I guess I'm not in a real good mood, what with being taken hostage twice in less than twenty-four hours.”

Gracie said, “Twice? What happened yesterday?”

“What
didn't
happen yesterday is a better question.”

Gracie's face crumbled. “This is my fault. I got you in trouble and worse, I got my son in trouble too. I'll never forgive myself.”

Augusta put her hand on Gracie's arm. “We all make mistakes. Granted, this is a big one. But you'll have your whole life to rectify it.”

“Which gives her about twenty minutes, the way this day is going,” Gemma said.

“I'm sorry.”

Gemma patted Gracie's knee. “Never mind. You're not alone, so that's something to be grateful for.”

Keaton continued to let everyone know he was not happy with the situation at all. Gracie rubbed the top of his head and then kissed it. “I don't know what's wrong.”

“He knows we're keeping lousy company,” Gemma said.

Augusta felt his cheeks. “I think he may be teething. His cheeks are flushed. Do his gums feel hot?”

Gracie rubbed them with the tip of her finger. “I think so.”

“Or it could be diaper rash,” Gemma suggested. “Is his bum red? Or maybe gas? Or constipation?”

“How are his stools?” Augusta asked.

Dumber turned around with his big moon face. “Shut up. You're making me sick up here.”

“Interesting how the big lout has such a delicate stomach,” Gemma said. “It must get in the way of all his killing and maiming.”

“I'm gonna give you a knuckle sandwich in a minute.”

“I like mustard, just so you know.”

Augusta hit Gemma on the knee, but it didn't keep her quiet for long. They jolted forward when the car slammed to a stop at a red light. “Don't you know how to drive? My sixteen-year-old drives better than this.”

Dumb looked at her in the rear-view mirror. “I got a perfect score on my driving test.”

Dumber punched Dumb in the shoulder. “Who gives a shit?”

Gemma looked out the window. “Look at this, Augusta, our own personal tour of the city. Too bad they don't stop at the Statue of Liberty or the Chrysler Building. I always wanted to see them. Instead we get to see the underbelly of life in New York, where the rats play.”

Dumber turned around and glared at them. “I'm not warning you again. Zip it.”

Gemma mouthed “cellphone” to Augusta, who tried not to make any noise as she rooted through her purse. She gently eased it out and hid it behind her bag, then turned it on and punched in the numbers. With Keaton's screams of outrage covering up her voice, she leaned over and when she thought she heard “Hello,” she whispered, “we've been kidnapped. We've been…”

Dumber reached over the front seat, grabbed it out of her hand, and turned it off. “Do that again, and you're dead.” He threw the phone in the glove compartment.

The women looked at each other and then straight ahead. There was nothing left to say.

Blue and his girlfriend, Starr, were blasted out of their minds. So when someone phoned and said they had been kidnapped, Blue laughed his head off. But his euphoria didn't last long. There were more pressing issues to deal with, like how to get a stash of drugs to his contact in exchange for…basically nothing. The guy told him if they didn't deliver the goods this time, Blue and Starr would be dead. He didn't offer any other reward for delivery.

They'd screwed up plenty before, and no one was in the mood to take their crap anymore.

Blue had tried to make arrangements over the phone in the coffee shop, but ever since they'd left there, he'd had a series of wrong numbers. Someone looking for Bette. When Blue told Starr, she said, “Wanna bet? Anyone wanna bet?” which she repeated again and again until Blue told her to put a sock in it.

They sat on an old mattress on the floor of a communal apartment. Not so much an apartment as a pigpen. People crashed there day and night and no one did anything to keep it clean. Starr rolled her joint, lit it, and passed it to Blue. He stared at the ceiling. She shoved his arm. “Here.”

He reached for it, took a drag, and then knocked back some cheap bourbon. “I think something's wrong. That bastard was supposed to call and tell us when to bring the stuff, and he never did. He's messing with our heads.”

Now Starr took the joint. “What's he supposed to say again?”

“The cock crows at midnight.” Blue's shoulders shook with laughter. “I thought that up.”

“No you didn't. I've heard that before.”

“Whatever.” He grabbed the joint back and inhaled deeply.

Starr rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. “Where's the stuff, anyway?”

Blue pointed at the ceiling. “It's behind the tiles up there.”

“Ahh,” she nodded. “Good thinking.”

“Why?”

“It's up high…get it…high…you get high…high…”

He grabbed her nose ring and pulled her towards him.

“Ow!”

“Enough with the
high
s.”

“Let go or the cock will be crowin' a lot sooner than midnight.”

He started to giggle. “Good one.”

“Right.” Starr got up on her hands and knees and rose to her feet, but she wasn't very steady. “I gotta go to the can.” She nearly keeled over when she tripped off the edge of the mattress. “Whoa, we gotta get a new place. The floor is way too crooked in here.”

“Gimme a kiss,” Blue said.

She blew him one vaguely and then zigzagged to the bathroom, but she forgot what she was there for. She was going back down the hall to ask Blue when some guys passed her going the other way.

“Hey Starr,” one of them said. “We got some stuff. Wanna party?”

Starr put her fist in the air. “Rock on, man.” She turned around and careened out the door with the rest of them. Blue slid down the wall and fell over on his side. He was out cold and didn't have a clue she'd even left.

The car finally pulled into what looked like a warehouse, one that hadn't been used in a long time. It was dark and dusty and the windows were covered with sheets of plywood. The friends had absolutely no idea where they were, but they kept their eyes open to anything that would stand out later in their memory. It was their only hope.

The two gorillas got out of the car first and then opened the back doors. Gemma slid out one side and Augusta and Gracie went out the other. Gemma carried their bags.

“You won't need those where you're going. Put 'em down,” Dumber said.

Gemma did as she was told.

“Get over there with the others.”

Gemma walked over to Augusta and put her arm around Gracie. They stood there and waited for something to happen. Soon they heard a door slam in the distance. Footsteps echoed in the vast space as a man with dark greasy hair and a pox-marked face walked towards them.

“He looks like a shark,” Gemma whispered. “His eyes are dead.”

Candy popped a few more Life Savers in his mouth before he looked at his henchmen. “So? Which one of these two broads is the one I'm looking for?”

Gemma and Augusta glared at him.

“Not sure,” Dumber shrugged. “The security guards at the hotel were on our ass. We had to stay in the street.”

Dumb jumped in. “Yeah, we saw Gracie run up to talk to them and figured one of them was Bette Weinberg. It was better then nothin'.”

Candy gave them a look that suggested Dumb was wrong about that. Then he turned his attention to the ladies. “Who's Bette Weinberg?”

No one spoke.

“I'll say it again. Who's Bette Weinberg?”

“She's not here.” Gemma said.

He watched them for a moment. “I don't believe you. You're sweatin' like a pig, which means you're lying.”

“I'm having a hot flash. Look at my driver's license if you don't believe me.”

The muscle in Candy's jaw worked overtime. “So Bette Weinberg isn't here. Why am I not surprised?”

Dumb became agitated. “Look boss, it was impossible to hang around the hotel lobby. Security was everywhere. It's like that now. Everything's tougher to get into, ya know?”

“Really? I had no idea.” Candy reached over and hit the back of Dumb's head. Then he walked over to Gracie and grabbed her out of Gemma's arms. He pulled her back with him, his hand over her throat. “Try anything stupid and I'll kill the kid.”

“Which kid?” Gemma said. “The little one or the tiny one, you bastard?”

“Shut up. Now, where do I find this Bette?”

The women looked at him but said nothing. He squeezed Gracie's throat. “Where?”

“You said we couldn't open our mouths, so which is it? You can't have it both ways,” Gemma said.

“Dames. What is it with you broads? You twist everything around. How do I get in touch with this Bette? You should start talkin' before I lose my temper.”

“You'll have to call her cellphone,” Augusta said.

Candy snapped his fingers and pointed at Dumber. Dumber put his hand in his jacket pocket and produced a phone. He threw it to his boss.

“What's the number?”

They told him. He pressed the numbers and put his ear to the phone. “There's no answer.”

Gemma and Augusta looked at each other.

Candy clicked it off. “Looks like we have to wait. Make yourselves comfortable, ladies; you're here for the long haul.”

Bette and Linda were scared shitless.

They sat wrapped in the hotel bedspreads because they didn't know what else to do. Finally they couldn't stand it.

“We have to call the police,” Linda said. “This is nuts. There's something wrong. They should be back by now.”

Bette shivered with fear. “What if something happened to them? They have seven children between them. What will we do, Linda? How are we ever going to live through this?”

“Look, we have to calm down. We're not going to be good to anyone if we get hysterical. We need to think.”

Just then the hotel phone rang. They both tripped over each other trying to reach it as they struggled out of their blankets.

Bette got to it first. “Hello?”

“Bette, it's Mordecai. Where the hell have you been? We've been trying to call your cell.”

“That's strange. I've had it on all day. Oh, it's so good to hear your voice. Don't tell Ida and Izzy, but it's been a nightmare since we've been here. I lost my purse and Izzy's money and now I don't have a passport. And we can't find our friends—”

Linda wrestled the phone from her and said to Bette, “Don't tell him all that.”

“But maybe they can help us.”

“From Montreal? We don't want to frighten everyone until we know something for sure.”

“Okay, okay.” Bette took the phone back. “Mordecai, why are you calling me, anyway? Has something happened?”

“Mama and Papa were attacked.”

Bette's mouth dropped open.

Linda poked her. “What's wrong?”

“Ida and Izzy were attacked.”

Linda couldn't speak. Bette continued to hold the phone in a vice grip and spoke again to Mordecai. “Are you telling me that Ma's phone call was true?”

“What phone call?”

“She didn't tell you? She called and said she killed a guy and I thought she was kidding, so I hung up on her. You know how she gets.”

“She called you?” Bette heard her brother address Ida. “Mama, did you call Bette and tell her you killed a guy?”