Ill Wind Page 0,6

in. The Association got there before five minutes was out, and he was loaded into an ambulance accompanied by three of the most powerful Wardens in the entire world, all of them arguing furiously about what had just happened.

He looked afraid. And woozy. I keep thinking that if I'd done something then, said something to him, tried to stop them from taking him away, maybe things would have been different.

But, realistically, probably not.

I drove for about half an hour before I decided the radio wasn't going to make any more mystical-musical pronouncements. I fished the cell phone one-handed out of my purse and checked the battery level. Two bars. No chance of recharging; I hadn't had time to pack for basic hygiene, much less handy phone accessories. I paged through the numbers in memory- Mom, Sarah, my dry cleaners, my massage therapist... Ah. Estrella Almondovar. Just who I was looking for.

I punched the speed dial and waited through the clicks and rings, lots of rings, before a sleep-mashed voice mumbled, "This had better be important."

"Kinda," I said, with as much fake cheer as I could pack into my voice. "Gooood morning, my little jumping bean."

She cleared her throat. I could just see her dragging a hand through midnight-black hair, trying to rub away the dreams.

"I got your salsa right here, bimbo," she said. "Jesus Maria, what time is it?"

"Eight a.m. on the East Coast."

"Yeah, that's like six here. You know, big hand on the six, only you can't see it 'cause it's dark? What, they don't teach you time zones in Florida?" I heard sheets rustling. Static clawed the line. "I guess you want something."

"Great sex," I sighed. "With a gorgeous man, with a great big-"

"Bank account," she finished. "Some things never change, eh? Sad thing is, you'll probably get it. Meanwhile, I get to listen to your wet dreams at you've-got-to-be-fucking-kidding-me in the morning."

I downshifted and drafted behind a semi tractor-trailer hauling ass in the fast lane. With cars like my lovely Delilah, and ever-rising gas prices, it pays to conserve all the fuel you can. The Mustang shuddered from the buffeting before we settled into the slipstream, then purred out her pleasure.

Somewhere in the wilds of Oklahoma, Estrella banged what sounded like metal around, dropped the phone, picked it up. "It's your dime, Jo. You've got until my coffeemaker fills up the first cup, and then I'm gone whether you're finished or not."

"Places to see, people to do?"

She snorted. "Chica, you ought to cut down on the crack. I got no place to be and nobody to do, as usual." That was closer to the truth than either of us wanted to explore.

"Then this would be good news: I'm headed your way."

"Seriously?" Her tone turned guarded. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong? Why would it be wrong?" I thwacked myself on the forehead. Estrella-Star, to her friends- knew me too well.

"You're kidding, right? You-leave a life of topless beaches and hot hard bodies to vacation in Oklahoma?"

"Dying to see you!"

"Right." She dragged the word through three syllables. "How long has it been?"

"Um ..." I couldn't remember. "A year?"

"Try two."

"Hey, I keep in touch. Don't forget the phone calls. Or the Christmas cards."

"The Christmas cards show up in February," she said. Okay, she had a point, I wasn't exactly the most reliable friend in the world. "So what's the deal, Jo? You need crash space?"

"Maybe. Well. Yeah." I heard her pouring liquid into a mug. "I should be there in a couple of days. You think I can stop in, maybe just catch a shower and some rest? I may not need it. I'm just saying, maybe. I'll pay for dinner, honest. And at someplace good, not the local roach factory."

Star sipped coffee. I was desperately jealous; my mouth watered at the thought. "Tell you what, you maybe show up, I'll maybe let you in. That's if you swear there's not going to be any trouble, like you were in last time."

"That was so not my fault. Tornadoes are a perfectly natural phenomenon. Not my fault you live where they go for vacation."

"Hey, we live la vida loca around here, girlfriend. So. Why are you really coming out to the ass-end of nowhere?"

"It's not the ass-end of nowhere. And besides, you're there." I winced again. That sounded suspiciously like what my buddy Andy