The Furies by Mark Alpert Page B

horrible.
    â€œHow’s your patient?” John asked. He had to breathe through his mouth. “When was the last time you checked on her?”
    Gabe was silent and motionless. Then he nodded drowsily. He moved as if he were underwater. “She’s fine. Don’t worry.”
    â€œGreat. Glad you’re on the case.” John turned away and faced the wall. He couldn’t bear to look at the guy.
    The room went silent again. Then Gabe slowly extended his arm and held out his hand. “You got it?”
    â€œGot what?”
    â€œThe money. My money.” His eyes darted. He seemed to be shaking off his stupor. “You owe me. Remember? Four hundred dollars.”
    â€œI couldn’t get into my house. Some assholes from the corner crews were there, waiting for me.”
    This got Gabe’s attention. He sat up on the sofa. “What did they want?”
    â€œNo idea. I didn’t stick around to talk.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œThey were already trashing my apartment.”
    â€œThat’s weird, don’t you think? The bad boys showing up at your place all of a sudden?” He craned his neck, trying to look John in the eye. It was amazing how quickly he’d sobered up. “You think it has something to do with the girl?”
    Gabe was good at guessing things. He had a talent for ferreting out secrets. It was a useful skill for a junkie to have. Desperate people needed all the help they could get.
    John shook his head. “I don’t see the connection,” he lied.
    â€œWell, I do.” Gabe scratched his bare chest and leaned back on the sofa cushions. “The girl has enemies, right? After you left New York they could’ve figured out who you are. Maybe they saw your car’s license plate and ran the number. It’s easy to do if you have the connections. And once they found out your name and address, they made a call to the drug bosses in Kensington, offering them big money to grab someone named John Rogers. And the girl too, of course.” He grinned. “That would explain it, wouldn’t it?”
    It certainly would, but John wasn’t going to agree with him. This was a dangerous subject. “Look, I’ll get your money. You know I always pay my bills. In the meantime, I’m going downstairs to see how she’s doing.”
    â€œSure, go ahead.” Gabe kept grinning. “Take your time.”
    John didn’t like the look on his face. There was a threat behind it. He could feel Gabe’s eyes on his back as he went down the steps to the basement. The guy was his oldest friend, but first and foremost he was a junkie. And now he had a chance to make some serious money, maybe enough to buy a month’s supply of heroin. If the payoff was big enough, Gabe would betray him in a second.
    Ariel was awake when John marched into the operating room. She seemed happy to see him. “Did you find the herbs? I was worried you might—”
    â€œShh.” He raised his index finger to his lips. “We gotta go. I’ll carry you back to the car.”
    â€œWhy?” she whispered. “What happened?”
    â€œGabe’s gonna turn us in. He’s probably on the phone right now.”
    John slipped one arm under Ariel’s back and the other under her splinted legs. She winced as he picked her up, but didn’t make a sound. Holding her as gently as he could, John headed up the stairs. She held her notebook against her chest, just like she did last night.
    Gabe wasn’t on the sofa anymore. He’d probably gone to another room to make the phone call. John burst out the front door with Ariel and ran to his car. As he dashed through the gate he looked down Hancock Street, expecting to see all of Kensington’s gangbangers swarming toward them. But the street was empty.
    John rested Ariel in the Kia’s bloodstained backseat. “We got a two-minute head start,” he said. “Have