the morgue at St. Peter’s.” She said this as if she didn’t believe it. The phone rang, and she snatched it. “Hello.”
“Sorry about that. The door to the morgue opened, then closed. I thought they were bringing in another body.”
“Are you safe, Mark?”
“Hell no, I’m not safe. But I’m a kid, okay. And now I’m a psychiatric case. So if they catch me, I’ll just go into shock again and they’ll put me in a room. Then I’ll figure out another way to escape, maybe.”
“You can’t hide forever.”
“Neither can you.”
She marveled once again at his quick tongue. “You’re right, Mark. So what do we do?”
“I don’t know. I really would like to leave Memphis. I’m sick of cops and jails.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Well, let me ask you something. If you come and get me, and we leave town together, then you could get in trouble for helping me escape. Right?”
“Yes. I’d be an accomplice.”
“What would they do to you?”
“We’ll worry about that later. I’ve done worse things.”
“So you’ll help me?”
“Yes, Mark. I’ll help you.”
“And you won’t tell anybody?”
“We may need Glint.”
“Okay, you can tell Glint. But nobody else, okay?”
“You have my word.”
“And you won’t try to talk me into going back to jail?”
“I promise.”
There was a long pause. Glint was near panic.
“Okay, Reggie. You know the main parking lot, the one next to that big green building?”
“Yes.”
“Drive into it, just like you’re looking for a place to park. Go real slow. I’ll be hiding between some cars.”
“That place is dark and dangerous, Mark.”
“It’s Friday night, Reggie. Everything around here is dark and dangerous.”
“But there’s a guard in the exit booth.”
“That guard sleeps half the time. It’s a guard, not a cop. I know what I’m doing, okay?”
“Are you sure?”
“No. But you said you’d help me.”
“I will. When should I be there?”
“As fast as you can.”
“I’ll be in Glint’s car. It’s a black Honda Accord.”
“Good. Hurry.”
“I’m on my way. Be careful, Mark.”
“Relax, Reggie. This is just like the movies.”
She hung up, and took a deep breath.
“My car?” Glint asked.
“They’re looking for me too.”
“You’re crazy, Reggie. This is insane. You can’t run away with an escaped, I don’t know, whatever the hell he is. They’ll arrest you for contributing. You’ll be indicted. You’ll lose your license.”
“Where’s my bag?”
“In the bedroom.”
“I need your keys, and your credit cards.”
“My credit cards! Look, Reggie, I love you, sweetheart, but my car and my plastic?”
“How much cash do you have?”
“Forty bucks.”
“Give it here. I’ll pay you back.” She headed for the bedroom.
“You’ve lost your mind.”
“I’ve lost it before, remember.”
“Come on, Reggie.”
“Get a grip, Glint. We’re not blowing anything. I’ve got to help Mark. He’s sitting in a dark office in the morgue at St. Peter’s begging for help. What am I supposed to do?”
“Well, hell! I think you should attack the place with a shotgun and blow people away. Anything for Mark Sway.”
“Give me the credit cards and the cash, Glint. I’m in a hurry.”
He reached in his pockets. “You’re nuts. This is ridiculous.”
“Stay by the phone. Do not leave this place, okay. I’ll call you later.” She grabbed his keys, cash, and two credit cards—Visa and Texaco.
He followed her to the door. “Take it easy with the Visa. It’s almost to the limit.”
“Why am I not surprised?” She kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Glint. Take care of Momma Love.”
“Call me,” he said, thoroughly defeated.
She eased through the door and disappeared in the darkness.
The Client
33
-TROM THE MOMENT MARK JUMPED INTO THE CAR AND HID
on the floor, Reggie became an accomplice to his escape. But, unless he murdered someone before they were caught, it was doubtful her crime would be punishable by incarceration. She was thinking more along the lines of community service, perhaps a bit of restitution, and forty years of probation. Hell, she’d give them all the probation they wanted. It would be her first ofFense. She, and her lawyer, could make a strong argument that the kid was being hunted by the Mafia, and he was all alone, and, well, dammit, somebody had to do something! She couldn’t worry about legal niceties when her client was out there begging for help. Maybe she could pull strings and keep her license to practice.
She paid the parking guard fifty cents, and refused eye contact. She had circled through the lot one time. The guard was in another world. Mark was rolled into a tight coil somewhere in the darkness under the dashboard, and he remained there until she turned on Union and headed