Knight In Black Leather by Gail Dayton (people reading books .txt) 📗

coming through the slit of a boarded-up window had gone completely black. What was happening to Pete? Was he alone? Was he afraid? How could he not be afraid? He was just a little boy.

Marilyn had to do something. But what? She kept looking, hoping inspiration would strike.

"What are you doing?" Slug spoke from his corner.

"I don't know. I just--I have to do something. Find a way out. Find help. Something." She paced the room, eyes roving over floor and walls she'd studied a hundred times already.

"I can get out through the window."

"You can?" Marilyn whirled to face him. "Why didn't you say so? Why didn't you get out already?"

He sat up, pushing stringy blond hair out of his face. "Didn't care enough, I guess. I mean, about getting out. Flash would only find me again. Don't have any place to go. Too much trouble to get the board off the window. But if you want, I'll go." He stood, watching her.

"I want to hug you," she said. "Will you let me?" Or was he too traumatized to accept her touch?

Slug lifted a shoulder in a lopsided shrug. "If you want." He put his hands in the coat pockets, waiting as she approached.

Carefully, Marilyn put her arms around him and squeezed. She didn't want to hurt his bruises. She kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

"If Flash comes back and I'm not here, he's gonna be fu--uh--seriously pissed." Slug stepped back from her hug. "I mean, seriously."

Marilyn shook her head. "I don't care. You have to get out of here. Go to the police. Ask for Detective Jackson--" She racked her brain for the man's first name. The police department probably had half a dozen Jacksons. "Darrell or Terrell Jackson--something like that. Give him my name--Marilyn Ballard--can you remember that?"

"Sure." He nodded. "Ballard, Jackson. Got it."

"Tell him that Flash has Pete--Peter Court." She described the building where Pete had been left, named the street it was on and the neighborhood.

Slug looked up from tying the belt on the coat. He was several inches shorter and a whole lot skinnier than Marilyn, so the belt made pleats. "Court?"

"Does that mean something to you?"

"Flashman yelled a lot about some guy named Court, talking about how he was going to get even, shit--I mean, stuff like that." He tugged the belt tighter. "Made him nuts."

Marilyn shuddered, hugging her arms.

"Maybe I should stay," he said. "You do not want to know the Flashman when he's seriously pissed."

"No. I'd rather he take it out on me than you or Pete. And I won't fit through the window."

"Neither will I if we can't get the board off."

A single, wide board, about an inch thick, was nailed across the center of the window, leaving only a few inches above and below through which the outside world filtered. Marilyn grabbed it and pulled. It groaned, but didn't budge.

She groaned too. "I wish I'd joined that gym when my daughter wanted me to. I'd be so buff, this thing would come off in one pull."

"Yeah?" Slug took hold near the other end and together, they pulled. This time it moved maybe a millimeter.

"Probably not." Marilyn grinned at him and after a second, he grinned back. "What if we try rocking it? Maybe we can get a little leverage going."

"Try it. Ready--now." And they attacked the board together.

Jackson met Eli in the police station parking lot, handing the picture--a snapshot of Pete and Marilyn taken during spring break--to another officer to be scanned, printed and sent out to the patrol cars.

"You got any suggestions on where to look?" he asked. "We already hit the place we found Teresa. Not there."

Eli shook his head, impatient to be on his way. "I didn't find anything in the places I looked when Tee was missing. I doubt he'll use them for Pete. But I know people I can ask."

"Who?"

"They won't talk to you."

"Then we wire you up--"

"I don't have time for a fucking wire. My kid's out there. With Flash. You can come with us if you want, but you come now, 'cause we're leaving now."

"Okay. I'm coming." Jackson got in the back seat and pulled out a hand-held radio. "I'm breaking a shitload of procedure to do this," he said, before thumbing the button to report in.

"You think I care?" Eli didn't care about anything but finding Pete and Marilyn.

The second the doors were shut, Joey wheeled back out into the street.

"Who's this?" Jackson said.

"Joe Franks." Joey glanced over his shoulder at the detective. "Marilyn's brother."

"Yeah? Well, I don't want any vigilante shit out of either one of you."

"We just want to find them. We'll leave all the vigilante shit to you." Joey pulled up to an intersection as the light turned green. "Where to now, Eli?"

"Left." Eli directed him to Nicky's bar. This time he wasn't handicapped by plaster. This time, he intended to get answers to some questions.

Marilyn and Slug worked on the board forever, though her watch claimed only thirty minutes or so had passed. The boy tired quickly. Marilyn suspected Flash had been withholding food as well as beating him. She made him rest every so often, while she attacked it alone. He never rested long enough.

The first inch was the hardest. They yanked and rocked the board, pulled, tugged, jerked, trying anything and everything. Slowly, bit by tiny smidgen, the nails worked loose from the window frame. Once they got them out a certain distance, they could work one end of the board against the other. When it finally came loose, it came all at once, unexpectedly. Marilyn and Slug staggered back and sat down hard in tandem, still clutching the board.

Marilyn laughed, trying to keep the hysteria out. "We did it! We got it off."

She threw her arms around Slug and hugged him tight. He hugged her back after a second's hesitation, then pulled away.

"Hang onto the board," he said, handing it to her. "Maybe you can use it when the Flashman comes back."

Marilyn looked at