Someone To Believe In (38 page)

Which she very well might not. He knew what
the ramifications of his actions would be. Bailey would be
furious, but she’d be safe.

A gray Honda civic pulled into the lot.
Bingo! Immediately he headed down the grassy slope to the
blacktop. Taz Gomez got out of the car; Bailey had said she was
beautiful, and she was, especially now, when she looked so normal.
Dressed in a battered brown leather jacket and jeans, her dark
-hair soft around her shoulders, she could be just any teenager at
school. She was retrieving her books out of the trunk when he
reached her.

“Taz, I need to talk to you.”

The girl froze.

Clay moved in closer. “Taz? I know who you
are.”

She slammed the trunk. “Don’t know who you
talkin’ to, mister. My name is Tamara.”

Since she looked ready to bolt, he said, “I’m
a friend of the Street Angel’s.”

Her head snapped around. “She send you
here?”

“No.”

A frown. “I don’t get it.”

“My name is Clay Wainwright. I’m a U.S.
Senator and her husband.”

“She ain’t married.”

“She is now.” Stupidly he held out his hand
to show her his ring. “We got married yesterday. I’ve come to see
you because she’s in danger.”

“Danger, how?”

“From Mazie Lennon. Your friend’s threatening
my wife.”

Taz slammed the trunk. “The Street Angel can
take care of herself.”

Clay knew he was going to have to play his
trump card. “Maybe so. But she’s pregnant, Taz. With my child. And
I need you to help me protect her.”

TAZ TROMPED INTO school just as the bell rang
for first period. She was upset about what she’d done—tellin’ the
feds where Mazie was—but fuck it, she couldn’t risk nobody’s kid.
So she’d dropped a dime on her homies. She was a hater after
all.

“They’re not your homies anymore, Tazzie
baby,” she told herself.

Still, as soon as the senator had taken
off, she wondered if she’d done the right thing. Should she have
checked out this guy? She wouldn’t tell him anything until she saw
his ID, a Senate badge, even his marriage certificate to Bailey
O’Neil, who he contended was the Street Angel. Taz remembered the
night they drove to Rochester, they called her
Bay
. But she needed to confirm it all, so she got
a pass to the computer lab during study hall and Googled
him.

Okay, the line items showed he was a senator,
like he said. She scrolled down the entries. Jesus, there was
enough on him. She got to one that caught her eye. “Washington
Eagle clashes with the Street Angel.”

Taz called up that article. It was an
interview by a guy names Hank Sellers given by the Street Angel
about Senator Clayton Wainwright. She criticized him big-time.
Taz’s heart beat faster in her chest. She went back to the entries.
Some of these were old. But she read them anyway. They said the
Street Angel hated Wainwright. He wanted to close her down. They
were open enemies. Oh my God, had she just given that guy the
ammunition to destroy the Street Angel?

And to take out her home girls?

No, wait. Taz remembered something else
about that night they drove up here. The Street Angel woke up
disoriented and called out for
Clay
. Fuck it! Had the Street Angel set her up?
Could she have fallen for this guy and betrayed Taz? Her mind
screamed,
no, no, no
. But she
was confused.

Immediately she went on the ESCAPE website.
Clicked in. And waited until the site came up.

Street Angel, is that you?

No, it’s me again, her coworker Taz, are you
all right? You’re never supposed to contact us.

I need to talk to the Street Angel. When will
she be on?

I’m not sure. She’s off for a few days.

Shit! Now she wouldn’t find nothing out. She
couldn’t shake the notion that she’d been tricked, that maybe the
Street Angel was in on this. Fuck it, Taz knew what she had to do.
She stood and headed for the door.

“Tamara, are you going somewhere?” The aide
checked the clock. “You have a bit more time.”

Taz shook her head. “I don’t have no time at
all, lady,” she said, and she left the room.

“NED, ITS CLAY.”

“We’re standing by. Where is she?”

“I got three locations from the girl. You’ll
have to check them all out.”

“I’ll put more men on it. Damn it, I wish
there weren’t so many; we could miss her going from one to the
other.”

“Don’t.”

“You all right?”

“Yeah, feeling a little like Judas, but
I’m all right.” And he was. He
had
to do this.

“I’ll keep you posted

“I’m driving back now. I have my cell on me
so stay in contact. I want to know the minute Lennon’s
apprehended.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

Clay clicked off and tried to
concentrate on the road. He tried hard
not
to think about Bailey. Her face when she told
him she’d never run from him. Her affirmation that she believed in
him. Damn it, he thought, pounding the steering wheel with his
fist. He didn’t have any choice. If she wouldn’t take care of
herself, he had to keep her safe. Her and their baby.

Impatient to get back to New York, he stepped
on the gas. He needed to see her. He was on the outskirts of
Rochester when he saw a car slam on the brakes in front of him.
Shit. This was all he needed, he thought, as he hit his own
brakes.

Then, he felt an impact from behind.

TAZ MANEUVERED THE Conklins’ car through the
streets of New York. It would have been on hit having wheels in
this city, but today, Taz was scared. She’d already checked out the
three places she’d told the senator to look for Mazie—nobody was
there—and now she didn’t know what to do. So she decided to go
home. Her father wasn’t at the apartment. She called and he didn’t
answer.

Her plan had two ways to go. She’d grab her
computer and try to get to the Street Angel online; if she’d been
straight with Taz and wasn’t in cahoots with the Senator, Taz was
gonna tell Mazie what had happened and go back to the gang. If Taz
returned to them, Mazie would be cool—after she knocked the shit
out of her. But so long as Taz was back, Mazie wouldn’t do nothing
more.

If, however, Taz found out the senator was
lying, and the Street Angel had sold her out, Mazie could go after
the woman with all she had; hell, Taz would even help. After all,
she even knew the Angel’s real identity now. English teachers would
call that ironic. In hoping to save his wife, the senator had given
them ammunition to gun her down.

But as she parked the car in an alley below
her apartment, then made her way up the fire escape, Taz admitted
she didn’t want to do that. She felt close to the Street Angel. She
hoped they didn’t have to do nothing to her.

The window was ajar. The stupid bastard.
Didn’t even lockup. She slid it open and crawled inside. She didn’t
turn on the light. God she hated how this place smelled. For a
minute, her heart hurt remembering the pretty wallpapered bedroom
the Conklins had set up for her. It didn’t matter. She’d stay here
just until she got her computer, her stash of money, and some
clothes. Tamara’s clothes were all gone. She let a wave of sadness
about leaving Rochester rush through her. She’d only been there a
couple of weeks, but the Conklins rocked, and she’d been making
friends at school. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she said as she opened
the closet door.

From the dark corner of the room, she heard,
“You got that right, Tazzie baby. You are one stupid cunt.”

Taz whirled around. Mazie stepped out of the
shadows. She was wild-eyed; she reeked of blow. And she was
pointing a double deuce handgun at Taz’s chest.

BAILEY HADN’T HEARD a word from Clay, which
shocked and hurt her; she was sitting at her computer at ESCAPE,
wondering where her life was going, when Joe Natale burst into the
office. “Bailey, oh, fuck. I got bad news.”

She threw back her chair and stood. Rob was
right behind him. “What?”

He shrugged his shoulder. “Taz Gomez is
dead.”

“What?”
It
didn’t compute. “That’s...that’s impossible. She’s in Rochester,
with the Conklins.”

“The Conklins called here before you came in.
All they knew was that Taz left school today. Apparently she drove
back to New York. The police just found her in her father’s
apartment.”

Bailey’s head began to buzz; her stomach
heaved; she stared at Joe, unable to internalize what she was being
told.

Before she could respond, the office phone
rang. Suze picked it up. Everything seemed surreal; Suze’s voice
even sounded far away and unnatural. “Oh, yeah, that’s great. Yeah,
I’ll tell her. Thanks, Captain.” She clicked off.

Rob had moved in close to Bailey and slid his
arm around her. “What now?”

“Mazie Lennon was picked up by the police at
her crib. She had a gun on her.” Suze’s face was somber. “It
matched the twenty-two that killed Taz.”

“Oh, God.” Bailey wobbled then sank into a
chair. After a moment, she asked, “At their crib? How did the
police find it?”

“Price wouldn’t say.”

“The cops have a network of snitches,” Natale
put in. “One probably called in.”

Bailey shook her head, as if that would help
make sense of all this. “I can’t believe it.”

Rob, the psychologist, squatted before her
and grasped her hands. His big blue eyes held a wealth of sympathy.
“Bay, I’m so sorry. I know how you cared about this girl.”

She gripped his hands and battled back the
emotion in her throat. “I did. I...” She stood abruptly. “Look, I
have to go.”

“Go where?” Suze asked, alarmed. “Stay here
with us. “

“No, I have to think this out. I want to be
alone.” She grabbed her coat and rushed toward the door to the
protests of her friends. Whom she’d lied to. She didn’t need to be
alone. She had to find Clay.

“YOU’RE LUCKY TO be alive, Senator.”

His vision blurry, Clay peered up at the ER
doctor, who didn’t seem much older than Jon. A pungent antiseptic
smell stung his nostrils. “I, um, yes, I know. How’s the driver of
the other car?”

“Drunk.”

“What?” Clay had been sure his excessive
speed had caused the accident on Route 90. All he remembered was
slamming on his brakes when somebody stopped abruptly in front of
him on the thruway. Then there was some kind of impact. Then Clay
had blacked out.

“The guy who hit you from behind was
drunk

He ran his hand over his jaw. “I thought I
ran into somebody.”

“You did, after you were rear-ended. That
driver’s about as bad as you. The drunk doesn’t have a
scratch.”

“How bad am I?” He knew his head hurt like
hell; he raised his hand and felt a bandage at his temple. The
movement told him he was sore all over.

“Slight concussion,” the doctor said. “We’d
like to keep you the rest of the night.”

“Night? What time is it?”

“About midnight.”

“You’re kidding.”

“You’ve been in and out of consciousness
since the accident this morning.”

“Shit.” He reached for his cell phone in his
pocket, but encountered a hospital gown. “I need my cell.”

“There’s no cell phone use in the
hospital.”

“Can I check the messages on my phone?”

The doctor nodded as he made a notation at
his chart.

“I’ll need to use another phone, too.”

“Sure. Your clothes are over there in the
bag.” He nodded to the nurse. “Ms. Jackson can help you out with
both.” He started to walk out.

“I can’t stay here all night,” he called
after the doctor.

The man glanced over his shoulder. “We’ll
talk about it when I get back.”

His head still fuzzy, Clay watched the nurse,
at his request, sift through his clothes. “I’m sorry, Senator,
there’s no cell phone in your pocket.”

“Damn.” He lay back on the pillows. “That’s
right, it’s in the car.”

“Oh, dear. I was told the car was
totaled.”

“Jesus.” He drew in a breath, started to sit
up, but a wave of dizziness caught him. He dropped back down on the
pillow. “I need a phone. It’s imperative.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” The nurse left.

Clay lay back, his head pounding like a
jackhammer. How the hell had he been so unlucky? He needed to get
to New York to talk to Ned Price. He had to know if they got
Mazie.

He struggled to keep his eyes open.
Then he had to tell Bailey he’d betrayed her. He’d used
information she’d let slip to the man she loved, to get what the
senator, whom she didn’t like much at all, thought she needed. What
she
did
need, damn it! He
wouldn’t apologize for saving her from Mazie Lennon.

Though his mind was hazing over, he thought
about Taz. She’d seemed all right with his explanation for why he’d
violated the protection order. When they picked up Mazie, could
Clay convince Bailey that Taz was still safe and they’d caught the
bad guy, so his actions had been acceptable? Certainly Clay
knowing Taz’s whereabouts wouldn’t jeopardize her safety. Maybe
everything would fall into place. His eyes grew heavy. Bailey would
be mad. Probably for a long time. But she was carrying his baby and
she’d have to forgive him eventually.

The next thing he knew, his blood pressure
was being taken. Blips and beeps surrounded him, as well as a low
rumble of voices. His eyes flew open to see a different nurse doing
the task. “What time is it?”

“Six a.m. I just came on.”

“Hell.” He glanced around. “Where’s the
phone?”

“What phone?”

He shook his head. The other nurse hadn’t
done anything about getting him a phone in here. By the time he
managed to crawl out of bed and dress, he was exhausted. But he
found his way to a hallway phone. At least his wallet and phone
card were in his pocket. He dialed Bailey’s cell first, then
something made him hang up. A feeling. He redialed Ned Price. Clay
should know what he was dealing with, first. If Mazie was caught,
he’d be in a better place with his wife.