The Wrong Man - Kate White Page 0,99

then it will give chase, drag you to the ground, and tear you limb from limb.

So she walked as calmly as possible, yanked open the door, and mounted the stairs to the street without ever looking back.

But as soon as she stepped onto the sidewalk, the fear that she’d momentarily kept at bay broke free, nearly knocking her over.

She wondered if the whole evening had been nothing more than a set-up, with Sasha commissioned to entice her into the bowels of Manhattan, within striking distance of Wainwright and Kennelly.

And yet that idea didn’t really fit. Wainwright had seemed stunned to see her. But coincidence or not, he knew where she was now and so did Kennelly.

She darted away from the entranceway of the bar, so that she couldn’t be seen from inside, and looked anxiously up and down the street. There were no cabs in sight, not even many pedestrians. That meant the subway. She was going to have to hightail her way through the crazy labyrinth of streets down here and find the Wall Street station.

She barely knew the area, but she thought she could reach Wall Street by heading north. But the subway stop was farther west, where Wall met Broadway. Turning left on Stone Street seemed like the fastest option. Plus there were two people up that way, puffing on cigarettes in front of one of the taverns.

She took off in that direction. The two smokers stepped inside and she was alone on the street. She moved faster. Before long Stone came to an abrupt end with no apparent sign for the street running perpendicular. Smack in front of her was a large office building with a sunken plaza.

She swung right and she saw that this street quickly ended too, at a hulking parking garage. She’d turn left at the next intersection, she decided. She was pretty sure that was west and that she’d soon end up on Broadway, close to the subway stop.

And then behind her, she heard a footfall. She twisted around. No one. She picked up her speed. A few seconds later she was certain she heard the scrape of a shoe on pavement and she turned again, this time not even stopping. The street looked deserted. Were her nerves playing tricks on her?

Now, almost running, she reached the intersection. There wasn’t a soul in sight, not even an attendant at the garage. Crap, she thought. And then she heard footsteps once more.

When she spun around this time she spotted him. A tall, slim figure far enough behind her that she couldn’t see the face, but from the outline of his body in the dark, he appeared to be dressed in a suit. Was it Kennelly? she wondered, her heart pounding even harder. As she stared down the street, he stepped down into the dark maw of that the sunken plaza.

She started to really run, plunging left at the intersection, her shoulder bag slapping against her body. She’d been crazy to ever come down here.

Finally up ahead she saw a small cluster of people discharging from an office building, people working late and rushing to get home. With her lungs searing, she closed the gap and sidled up to an older black woman, dressed in a denim blazer with a soft leather briefcase.

“Excuse me,” Kit said, nearly breathless. “Am I headed the right way for the Wall Street subway stop?”

“Yes, it’s just two or three blocks away,” the woman told her, pointing loosely.

“Thank you so much,” she said, ready to cry in relief.

Another glance behind her. There was no sign now of the man in the suit. She rushed along the street and made the next right, trying to hug tight to the people who’d just left the building. Soon, though, the group splintered—two men crossing the street, another man moving quickly west, and the woman with the briefcase jumping into a car that was waiting for her.

Kit started to run again. And then, checking back once more, she noticed the car, a small black limo nosing up the street behind her. Something about the movement triggered an alarm. The car was moving slowly, but deliberately, like a predator inching through high grass. Suddenly it edged to the side of the road and stopped, just yards from her.

It was them, she realized. Before she could turn away, the rear door by the sidewalk swung open and a man slid out.

The streetlight was behind him and she couldn’t make out the face at first, but

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