Beyond Blue by Austin S. Camacho Page B

way, and he heard Steele draw a long ragged breath.
    Steele threw his arms wide and slammed his palms onto Psycho’s ears. Psycho released him and took a step back. Stone, out of breath, staggered back and sat on the desk. Psycho started forward and Steele popped him on the nose with a crisp left jab.
    Linda was halfway across the room when Steele went in action. After three long strides he was out of the little room. His long legs stretched, one foot landed on the desk and launched him forward to slam the door shut with his shoulder just as Linda was about to reach it.
    â€œSorry Miss,” Steele said as she pulled back in fear. “You’re not going anywhere, except with us.”
    Back in the small room, Stone’s arm ached from the pressure, but after a minute of struggling, Psycho gurgledand his eyes rolled up into his head. Stone held the choke for ten more seconds, then let Psycho drop to the floor.
    â€œDamn, we made a mess in there,” Steele said, standing at the little office door, one hand locked around Linda’s wrist.
    â€œYeah, but look at my coat. We got the worse end of this deal. Still, an interesting time. Kind of reminded me of the old days.”
    â€œYep, and it’s going to get a whole lot more interesting if we don’t haul ass in a hurry.”
    Chastity hit her brakes, almost stalling out her powder blue Mazda MX-5, to avoid hitting the odd looking trio. The girl seemed normal enough, but both men looked as if they’d been fighting in a talcum powder factory. The men looked kind of familiar, but she hardly gave them a thought, except that they nearly caused her to lose sight of Francine.
    In Brooklyn’s traffic, Chastity had little fear of losing the bright red Aerostar minivan, but once they’d crossed the bridge it got dicier. On broad Park Avenue, every driver thought he should be in front, and it became downright challenging to keep the car in sight without any chance of Francine thinking she was being followed.
    Nothing but raw curiosity had driven Chastity to follow Francine when she left the health club. She wondered where this evil bitch woman went when she wasn’t home taking care of her family. Chastity had memorized all the fictionalized adventures of her famous father, at least those written by his official biographer, Ian Fleming. She knew how often the break in an important case came from just watching your mark.
    She was a little surprised Francine had traveled to a Manhattan skyscraper. The housewife had spent only fifteen minutes in the psychiatrist’s office. Not enough for therapy. And when she came out, she had worn a broadsmile.
    More surprising was Francine’s move cross town, then south on the Henry Hudson Parkway. Soon the road became the West Side Highway and just as the sun was starting to bother Chastity’s eyes, Francine’s minivan pulled off into city street traffic. After a couple of turns she pulled into the drive of a large auto dealership. Maybe she was smarter than Chastity thought. Maybe she wanted to get rid of that piece of shit Ford.
    The downward elevator ride had been silent and tense, Steele shushing Linda while Stone used a handkerchief to at least remove the dust from his face and hands. It wasn’t until Stone shoved Linda into the back seat of Steele’s SUV that she spoke up.
    â€œSo, this is kidnapping, right?” she asked, the Jersey shore coming out in her voice.
    â€œNo ma’am, this is protective custody,” Stone replied.
    â€œThem jamokes upstairs figure you left the door unlocked, darlin’.” Steele said as he started the vehicle. “They see you again, they’re going to do a little more than fire your pretty behind.”
    Linda’s eyes narrowed. “I figured you guys for burglars but you sound like cops. Hey, I ain’t done nothing. Maybe I can help you.”
    â€œIt would be to your advantage to do so,” Stone said. “We