The Innocent

Now it was Yates’s turn to study her. He took his time. “I believe you,” he said.

And for some reason the way he said it scared her more than anything else.

“Please come with us,” Yates said.

“Where?”

“I’m taking you in.”

“On what charge?”

“You want the list alphabetically?”

“I’ll need to call my attorney.”

“You can call him from the precinct.”

She was not sure how to play this. Cal Dollinger took a step toward her. When she took a step back, the big man said, “You want me to drag you out of here in cuffs?”

Olivia stopped. “That won’t be necessary.”

They headed outside. Yates took the lead. Dollinger stayed next to her. Olivia checked the streets. The giant brown beer bottle was in the sky. For some reason it gave her comfort. Yates walked ahead. He unlocked the car door, slid in, started it up. He turned back and looked at Olivia and suddenly it hit her.

She recognized him.

Names fled easily, but faces were her prisoners for life. When she’d danced it became a way of numbing herself. She’d studied the faces. She’d memorize them, classify them by their level of boredom and enjoyment, try to remember how many times they’d been there. It had been a mental exercise, a way to distract herself.

Adam Yates had been to Clyde’s club.

She may have hesitated or maybe Cal Dollinger was just attuned to what was going on around him. She was about to flee, just start running until her legs gave out, but Dollinger put a firm hand on her arm. He squeezed the spot above her elbow just hard enough to get her attention. She tried to pull away, but it was like pulling your arm out of a concrete block.

She couldn’t move.

They were almost at the car now. Cal picked up speed. Olivia’s eyes skimmed the street, pausing on Lawrence. He was standing on the corner, swaying with another man she didn’t know. Both of them had brown paper bags in their hand. Lawrence looked at her and started to raise his hand to wave.

Olivia mouthed the words: Help me.

Lawrence’s face didn’t change. There was no reaction at all. The other man made a joke. Lawrence laughed long and hard and slapped his thigh.

He hadn’t seen her.

They approached the car. Olivia’s mind raced. She did not want to get in with them. She tried to slow her walk. Dollinger gave her arm a quick, painful pinch.

“Keep moving,” the big man told her.

They reached the back door. Dollinger opened it. She tried to hold her ground, but his grip was simply too strong. He pushed her into the backseat.

“Yo, got a dollar?”

The big man took a quick glance. It was Lawrence. Dollinger started turning away, dismissing the panhandler, but Lawrence grabbed his shoulder.

“Yo, man, I’m hungry. Got a dollar?”

“Buzz off.”

Lawrence put his hands on the big man’s chest. “I’m just asking for a dollar, man.”

“Let go of me.”

“A dollar. Is that too much to—”

And that was when Dollinger let go of her arm.

Olivia hesitated but not for long. When both of Dollinger’s hands gripped Lawrence by the front of his shirt, she was ready. She jumped up and started to run.

“Run, Liv!”

Lawrence didn’t have to tell her twice.

Dollinger dropped Lawrence and spun around. Lawrence jumped on the big man’s back. Dollinger shrugged him off like dandruff. Then Lawrence did something truly foolish. He hit Dollinger with the brown bag. Olivia could hear the clunk from the beer bottle inside. Dollinger turned around and punched Lawrence in the sternum. Lawrence went down hard.

Dollinger shouted, “Stop! FBI!”

I don’t think so, big man.

Olivia heard the car take off. The tires squealed as Yates peeled out. She glanced behind her.

Dollinger was catching up to her. And he had a gun in his hand.

Her lead was maybe fifty feet. She ran as hard as she could. This was her neighborhood. She’d have the advantage, right? She cut down a back alley. It was empty—nobody else in sight. Dollinger followed. She risked a look back. He was gaining on her and didn’t look the least bit put out.

She spun forward and ran harder, pumping her arms.

A bullet whizzed by her. Then another.

Oh, God. He’s shooting!

She had to get out of the alley. Had to find people. He wouldn’t just shoot her in front of a lot of people.

Would he?

She veered right back onto the street. The car was there. Yates sped toward her. She rolled over a parked car and onto the sidewalk. They were at the old Pabst Blue Ribbon factory. Soon it would be gone, replaced with yet another no-personality shopping center. But right now the broken-down ruins could be a haven.

Wait, where was that old tavern?

She swerved to the left. It was down the second alley. She remembered that. Olivia did not dare look behind her, but she could hear his footsteps now. He was gaining.

“Stop!”

Like hell, she thought. The tavern. Where the hell was that tavern?

She turned right.

Bingo, there it was!

The door was on the right. She wasn’t far from it. She ran hard. She grabbed the handle as Dollinger made the turn. She pulled the door open and fell inside.

“Help!”

There was one person inside. He was cleaning glasses behind the bar. He looked up in surprise. Olivia stood and quickly threw the bolt.

“Hey,” the bartender shouted, “what’s going on here?”

“Someone is trying to kill me.”

The door shook. “FBI. Open up!”

Olivia shook her head. The bartender hesitated, then gestured toward the back room with his head. She ran for it. The bartender picked up a shotgun as Dollinger kicked the door open.

The bartender was startled by the size of the man. “Jesus H. Christ!”

“FBI! Drop it.”

“Let’s just slow down, buddy . . .”

Dollinger pointed his gun at the bartender and fired twice.

The bartender went down, leaving only a splash of blood on the wall behind him.

Oh my God oh my God oh my God!

Olivia wanted to scream.

No. Go. Hurry.

She thought about the baby inside her. It gave her the extra spurt. She dove into the back room where the bartender had gestured.

Gunfire raked the wall behind her. Olivia dropped to the floor.

She crawled toward the back door. It was made of heavy metal. There was a key in the lock. In one move she pulled the door open and twisted the key so hard that it broke in the knob. She rolled back into the sunlight. The door closed and locked automatically behind her.