Showdown in Mudbug

Maryse flipped through the photos at the drugstore counter, then shoved them back into the envelope. “They look great,” she told the woman behind the counter, who scanned the envelope to ring her up. Maryse passed the woman some money, picked up the envelope, and headed to the back of the store for the restroom. Helena was already waiting inside.

 

“Well?” Maryse asked.

 

“There’s a black sedan parked across the street. Dark tint on the windows, but no bullet holes.”

 

“Shit.” Maryse said. “I was hoping Raissa was being melodramatic worrying about me, but apparently she wasn’t. And the film counter is in clear view of the street. I’ll bet black-sedan guy knows exactly why I’m here, even if he can’t figure out how I managed to take the pictures.”

 

Helena nodded. “It would be too much of a coincidence for him to ignore.”

 

“Okay, so he probably won’t kill me right there in the street, right? I mean, it’s the pictures he wants, and the negatives.”

 

“I guess,” Helena said, but didn’t look completely convinced.

 

“We’ll go with that for now.” Maryse pulled the photos out of the envelope and pulled out the spare copies. “I had duplicates made. I guess I was expecting trouble of some sort.”

 

“God knows why, since your life has been a cakewalk for over a month now.”

 

“Oh, you mean since you showed up?”

 

“You can’t blame all this on me. Hell, if I had that much power and control, I’d run the world.”

 

“There’s a frightening thought.” Maryse handed Helena the duplicate photos. “Hold on to those and do not lose them. Regardless of how scary things might be, remember that the bad guy can’t see you. Keep those photos under your clothes, and try not to crease the heck out of them.”

 

Maryse stuck the other set of photos back into the envelope along with the negatives and closed the flap. She looked at Helena and blew out a breath. “Okay, I’m going to leave the store and get mugged or jacked or rolled—whatever the hip, trendy term is for getting your butt kicked by a picture-stealing thug. You are going to get in the car and wait for me.”

 

Helena raised her eyebrows. “You sure about this?”

 

“No, which is why we have to leave now. Otherwise, I’ll spend the night in this restroom.” Maryse opened the door and stepped outside. “Get ahead of me and let me know if the car’s still there. It might have been a fluke.”

 

Helena hurried out the drugstore ahead of Maryse, then rushed back inside. “The car’s still there, but it’s pulled up right behind your car now. Are you sure you want to do this? We can call Raissa and Zach—have them pick us up.”

 

“That just puts Raissa in his line of fire and Zach on his radar. I don’t think he’ll shoot me. The street’s well lit and lots of people are there. Besides, if this goes as planned, he’ll think he got what he wanted and go away, right?”

 

Helena gave her a skeptical look. “Okay, but just in case things don’t go as planned—which always seems to happen, by the way—why don’t you give me your cell phone? I can call Raissa if something goes wrong.”

 

Maryse frowned. “Do you think she would be able to hear you through the phone?”

 

Helena shrugged. “She heard me when I was putting the bug in Sonny’s house.”

 

Maryse’s expression brightened. “You’re right. I’d forgotten about that.” She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and handed it to Helena. “Raissa’s number is the fourth one on the favorites list.”

 

Helena slipped the phone in her pocket. “Are you ready to do this?”

 

Maryse took a deep breath and blew it out. “As ready as I’m getting.” Helena walked out of the drugstore ahead of her. Maryse said a silent prayer and followed the ghost onto the sidewalk.

 

The black Cadillac was parked ten feet or so behind Maryse’s car just as Helena had reported. It looked like the car that had been in Mudbug that morning, but Maryse had no way of knowing for sure. She tried to appear nonchalant as she walked to her car, clutching the photos in her hand. No use making them harder to steal, or she’d likely show more bruises for her effort than necessary.

 

She pulled her keys from her pocket and unlocked the car door, then stepped to the driver’s side and reached for the door handle. So far, there was no movement from the black car, and Maryse was beginning to think they’d made a mistake. After all, Sonny and his men couldn’t be the only drivers of black Cadillacs, or there wouldn’t be a reason to manufacture them.

 

She peered into the car to make sure it was empty, but she only saw Helena inside, clutching the cell phone with one finger poised on top, ready to dial at any moment. Letting out a sigh of relief, she pulled up on the door handle, and that’s when she felt a hand on her shoulder and something cold and hard press into her back. Serious miscalculation. The man must have been hiding in the alley next to the cars.

 

“Give me the photos,” the man whispered, “and you can drive off with all your body parts intact.”

 

Maryse felt a rush of fear like a tidal wave, and then did what she always did at the wrong time—she got sarcastic. “Well, when you put it that way. I’m hungry and could really use my stomach.” She lifted the envelope of photos above her shoulder. “I’ll probably need my colon later.”

 

The man removed his hand from her shoulder and grabbed the photos. “Smart-ass bitch,” he said, and clocked her in the back of the head with his gun. Maryse remembered yelling once before she fell against the side of the car and slumped down on the sidewalk.

 

Maryse had no idea how long she’d been sitting on the sidewalk next to her car, but when she opened her eyes, she saw three people hovering above her.

 

An older lady bent over and peered down at her. “Are you all right, dear? Do you need us to call an ambulance?”

 

Maryse struggled to rise, feeling a bit dizzy. “No, I think I’m okay. Just a little woozy.”

 

“Did that man steal your purse?”

 

“No. Just the things I bought at the drugstore. I wasn’t even carrying a purse.”

 

“A smart idea, with all the tomfoolery that’s going on these days. Shall I call the police, then?”

 

“No, don’t bother. They’re busy with much worse things than this, and it seems there’s never enough of them to go around.”

 

“That is so true. You should still go downtown when you’re feeling better and file a report. Likely they won’t be able to do anything about your purchases, but they do keep a record of problem areas and try to patrol more often.”

 

“I’ll do that,” Maryse said. “Thank you for stopping. I think I’ll drive home now and soak in a hot bath.”

 

The lady nodded. “Excellent plan. Lord only knows what kind of grime is on that sidewalk. Are you okay to drive, dear? Can I call someone to come get you?”

 

“No. I think I’ll be fine. I’ll just sit here for a minute, then drive. If I have any problems, I’ll call my friend to come get me.”

 

“Well, okay. You be careful, now.” The lady gave her a nod walked down the sidewalk, the other pedestrians trailing behind her now that the show was over.

 

Maryse slid into the car and clutched the steering wheel, trying to steady herself. The dizziness was mostly gone, but the fear still raged. “Holy shit!”

 

“Are you okay?” Helena leaned over, peering anxiously at her. “I didn’t know what to do. It all happened so fast.”

 

“I’ll be fine as long as I don’t have a heart attack.” She ran her fingers lightly over the bump that was already forming on the back of her head. “Did you call Raissa?”

 

Helena nodded. “As soon as I saw him put a gun in your back. She could hear me fine. She and Zach are on the way, but we should get outta here, just in case that guy’s still around.”

 

“Good idea.” Maryse started the car. “There’s a restaurant a couple of blocks over, Wally’s Seafood Place. It’s well lit and probably crowded. Text Raissa to meet us there.”

 

“I grew up with manual typewriters. What in the world makes you think I know how to send a text message? I was doing good to make the phone call.”

 

“Never mind,” Maryse said, and took her phone from Helena’s hand. She sent the text, then pulled away from the curb.

 

“I wonder how Raissa’s explaining my call to Zach,” Helena mused.

 

“Probably the same way she explained my taking pictures of the man to begin with.”

 

Helena’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t even thought about that. So what are you going to say if he asks?”

 

“Damned good question.”

 

 

 

 

 

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