Black Widow (Page 43)

More and more snaps, bangs, and rattle-rattles sounded. Even though I burned with curiosity to see what was going on, I didn’t dare rise up and peak over the side of the Dumpster. That was a sure way to be spotted. I’d recovered some of my strength and magic, but I had no doubt that Madeline was still lurking around somewhere, along with a large contingent of cops, all of whom would be more than happy to shoot me on sight.

Eventually, I heard enough noises and snatches of conversation to realize that the firefighters were using a metal saw and some crowbars to cut through the locks on the back door of the building. The banging got louder and louder, until a loud, violent screech sounded, and everyone let out happy cheers of relief and accomplishment.

The door was open.

After that, more and more footsteps sounded, moving back and forth and all around my position in the Dumpster. I held my breath, but once again no one bothered to look inside the container.

Finally, a shout rang out from the back of the restaurant. “We’ve got a body in here!”

“No!” The sharp, thin scream immediately rose up. “No! It can’t be!”

My heart lurched as I recognized Bria’s voice. My baby sister was here, and she thought that the body was mine.

She thought that I was dead.

Of course she was here. She’d probably been here all night, along with Finn and Owen and the rest of our friends. They’d probably watched the flames consume the Pork Pit, their hearts twisting just like mine was right now as they realized that I was trapped inside and that there was nothing they could do to help me. I’d been so focused on surviving the fire and finding a place to hide, as well as confused and exhausted from the smoke inhalation, that I hadn’t thought to let them know that I was okay.

So I dug into my jeans pocket and pulled out the burner phone that I’d used to call Owen last night. But I must have been clumsier than I’d thought getting out of the Pork Pit and into the Dumpster because the screen was cracked, and the phone was dead.

Damn it! I silently cursed. My hand curled around the phone, and I wanted nothing more than to smash it against the side of the Dumpster, since it was as useless as the rest of the garbage in here. But I couldn’t do that.

“You have to let me see her!” Bria’s agonized voice rang out through the alley again. “You have to let me in there!”

The scuffle of footsteps sounded, followed by some more shouts.

“Ma’am!” a loud, booming voice called out. “Ma’am! You need to stay back. You can’t be here right now, Detective.”

My heart lurched again. Chance of discovery be damned. I had to see what was going on, and I had to try to let Bria and the others know that I was still alive.

Still keeping my head well below the edge of the container and being as quiet as possible, I crawled over to the opposite side of the Dumpster, the one that was the closest to the back door of the Pork Pit. I looked left and right and up and down until I spotted what I wanted—a small hole that had rusted into the side of the metal, close to one of the corners.

I drew in a soft breath, then leaned down and peered through the opening.

The quarter-size hole was about five feet off the ground, and the angle and position of the Dumpster let me see the open back door of the restaurant and the crowd of people milling around the alley beyond it—including Bria, Finn, Silvio, Xavier, and Owen.

Faces tight, eyes red and weary, shoulders slumped. The five of them stood in a row against the wall opposite the Pork Pit, their backs resting against the dirty bricks as if those were the only things holding them upright. Finn had his arms wrapped around Bria, who’d obviously been crying, while Xavier had his hand on Silvio’s shoulder. Owen stood a few feet away, his phone clutched in his hand as if he were waiting for me to keep my promise and call him at any second.

My stomach churned with hot, bitter acid at their obvious heartache and suffering. If only I hadn’t broken my phone, I could have at least texted Owen and told him where I was hiding and why. But I had no way to communicate with him or the others.

So close, so far away.

Minutes passed, then dragged into more than an hour. And still, cops, firefighters, and other officials kept moving through the alley and all around the Dumpster before going into the restaurant and streaming back out again. Fletcher had taught me to be patient, but it was almost more than even I could bear, knowing that my loved ones thought that I was dead, seeing the doubt, agony, shock, and suffering on their faces, and not being able to tell them that I was alive.

Finally, the coroner arrived and went into the restaurant. Ten more minutes ticked by before he came back out again. He shot Bria a sympathetic look, then turned to the cop in charge of the scene.

“There is definitely a body inside . . .” The coroner’s voice trailed off. “And it looks to be female from my preliminary examination.”

“No! No! No . . .”

Bria screamed and screamed before burying her face in Finn’s chest, her voice trailing off into loud, ugly, heartbreaking sobs. Tears streamed down Finn’s face. Xavier’s too, and even Silvio dabbed at the corners of his eyes. Owen remained still and stoic, although his fingers curled a little tighter around his phone, almost as if he were willing it to ring to prove everyone wrong.

I closed my eyes, and my heart twisted into cold, hard, guilty, shameful knots. I didn’t want to put my friends through the torture of thinking that I was dead, but I couldn’t leave my hiding place either. Otherwise, everything that I’d been through inside the Pork Pit would have been for nothing. So as much as it pained me to do so, I held my position and forced myself to open my eyes and keep watching through my peephole.

But even as Bria’s screams died down into gut-wrenching sobs, the speculative whispers started, the way I knew they would, and soon everyone in the alley was chattering about the burned body.

“Is it Blanco? Is she really dead?”

“Looks that way.”

“Didn’t think the Spider would go out like that. . . .”

And on and on it went.

Every muttered comment, every soft word, and every harsh, mocking laugh made me grind my teeth together. Even though I knew that it was crazy, part of me wanted to leap up in the Dumpster and scream Boo! as loud as I could. It would serve the gawking, jabbering ghouls right to get the shit scared out of them.

But I swallowed down my anger and held my position, even though the growing heat of the day baked me like a potato inside the Dumpster, as well as intensifying the reek of the garbage. Soon, the sour, putrid stench became so foul that even a thick layer of Jo-Jo’s ointment all around my nose couldn’t block it out.