lingerie establishment filled with Wonder bras and square inches of silk that passed for panties. As soon as she saw me, and figured me to be a potential customer, she hung up. I pasted a bright, polite smile on my face and went up to the counter.
“I’m sorry to ask but I don’t have any change. Could I use your phone to call my sister here in town to pick me up? I won’t be more than a second.”
She looked at me with an irritated grimace. Not only was I not going to buy anything. I wanted to use her phone for free. But she gave in and handed it to me reluctantly. I quickly punched in Connie’s numbers, praying she had remembered to charge up and turn on the cell. Eureka! After two rings, her tentative voice came on the line.
“Hello?”
“Con, this is Bianca. I’m at Harborplace. Can you pick me up? I’ll be at the corner of Pratt in ten minutes.”
“What are you doing there? And why are you calling me on my cell phone?”
“I can’t talk now. A nice lady is letting me use her phone,” I said, smiling at the sales clerk. “Just pick me up in ten minutes. Please?” I didn’t have to fudge the pleading tone in my voice. Heck, it bordered on desperate.
“Okay. I’ll be there.”
I hung up and thanked the sales clerk. All I had to do now was stay alive for the ten minutes it would take Connie to get here. Feeling better for having arranged the ride, I sauntered out into the mall with renewed confidence.
Until I ran right into a six-foot-three block of man whose imposing stature alone would scare even the bravest soul.
Chapter Six
T HE MAN loomed over me like an obelisk. He had thick dark hair and a squarish face that was rugged and tan. He wore a trench coat, a white shirt, and gray slacks. A slight bulge near his shoulder indicated he was packing some heat, as they say in detective novels about folks who carry guns.
He looked down at me with twinkling blue eyes, and smiled.
“Bianca, how’s your mom?” Suddenly, it hit me. He was Steve Paluchek, a detective with the Baltimore City Police who had served with my dad and occasionally checked in on us. I liked him. He was like an uncle to me. And right now, he was the one person in the world I was happiest to see, because out of the corner of my eye I could now see Lemming Lady approaching.
“Fine, fine,” I said, keeping track of the Lady. She had slowed down when she saw me talking with a stranger. I couldn’t help noticing that her wardrobe selections had not improved. She still wore impractical boots and skin-tight pants, but today her choice had run to electric blue leggings topped by a black sparkly tube top under the leather jacket.
“Wish you would come over some time,” I said, trying to keep the conversation going. To my relief, Detective Paluchek didn’t seem to be in any hurry.
“I was thinking of stopping by soon. I was out of town at a diversity-training seminar for awhile. Then I had a broken arm that laid me up.”
While Detective Paluchek went over the litany of reasons he hadn’t visited, I finally saw the Invisible Man. He came up to Lemming Lady from the other side of the mall, joining her in trying to look nonchalant, pretending to scrutinize a display of handcrafted silver jewelry.
He was as frightening as I could have imagined, but not because of his physical stature. He was only a few inches taller than the woman and, though reasonably muscular, not overpowering. He had brown hair pulled into a tiny pony tail at the nape of his neck and he wore a long dark raincoat that nearly touched the top of his expensive-looking shoes. Everything about him looked expensive, from his coat and shoes to the glistening diamond stud in one ear, and the silk shirt I glimpsed when he moved.
But it was his face that really bothered me. Along one cheek was a two-inch scar starting right below his left eye and nearly meeting his nostril. His thin lips didn’t smile and his squinty eyes looked like steel.
He was no longer
“I’m sorry to ask but I don’t have any change. Could I use your phone to call my sister here in town to pick me up? I won’t be more than a second.”
She looked at me with an irritated grimace. Not only was I not going to buy anything. I wanted to use her phone for free. But she gave in and handed it to me reluctantly. I quickly punched in Connie’s numbers, praying she had remembered to charge up and turn on the cell. Eureka! After two rings, her tentative voice came on the line.
“Hello?”
“Con, this is Bianca. I’m at Harborplace. Can you pick me up? I’ll be at the corner of Pratt in ten minutes.”
“What are you doing there? And why are you calling me on my cell phone?”
“I can’t talk now. A nice lady is letting me use her phone,” I said, smiling at the sales clerk. “Just pick me up in ten minutes. Please?” I didn’t have to fudge the pleading tone in my voice. Heck, it bordered on desperate.
“Okay. I’ll be there.”
I hung up and thanked the sales clerk. All I had to do now was stay alive for the ten minutes it would take Connie to get here. Feeling better for having arranged the ride, I sauntered out into the mall with renewed confidence.
Until I ran right into a six-foot-three block of man whose imposing stature alone would scare even the bravest soul.
Chapter Six
T HE MAN loomed over me like an obelisk. He had thick dark hair and a squarish face that was rugged and tan. He wore a trench coat, a white shirt, and gray slacks. A slight bulge near his shoulder indicated he was packing some heat, as they say in detective novels about folks who carry guns.
He looked down at me with twinkling blue eyes, and smiled.
“Bianca, how’s your mom?” Suddenly, it hit me. He was Steve Paluchek, a detective with the Baltimore City Police who had served with my dad and occasionally checked in on us. I liked him. He was like an uncle to me. And right now, he was the one person in the world I was happiest to see, because out of the corner of my eye I could now see Lemming Lady approaching.
“Fine, fine,” I said, keeping track of the Lady. She had slowed down when she saw me talking with a stranger. I couldn’t help noticing that her wardrobe selections had not improved. She still wore impractical boots and skin-tight pants, but today her choice had run to electric blue leggings topped by a black sparkly tube top under the leather jacket.
“Wish you would come over some time,” I said, trying to keep the conversation going. To my relief, Detective Paluchek didn’t seem to be in any hurry.
“I was thinking of stopping by soon. I was out of town at a diversity-training seminar for awhile. Then I had a broken arm that laid me up.”
While Detective Paluchek went over the litany of reasons he hadn’t visited, I finally saw the Invisible Man. He came up to Lemming Lady from the other side of the mall, joining her in trying to look nonchalant, pretending to scrutinize a display of handcrafted silver jewelry.
He was as frightening as I could have imagined, but not because of his physical stature. He was only a few inches taller than the woman and, though reasonably muscular, not overpowering. He had brown hair pulled into a tiny pony tail at the nape of his neck and he wore a long dark raincoat that nearly touched the top of his expensive-looking shoes. Everything about him looked expensive, from his coat and shoes to the glistening diamond stud in one ear, and the silk shirt I glimpsed when he moved.
But it was his face that really bothered me. Along one cheek was a two-inch scar starting right below his left eye and nearly meeting his nostril. His thin lips didn’t smile and his squinty eyes looked like steel.
He was no longer
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