Pursuit of Justice by Pamela Tracy

Author:Pamela Tracy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Steeple Hill
Published: 2007-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Scrabble, with Elmer Packard, was more a mind quest than a game. Rosa challenged his words twice and both times he won.

“You know,” she said. “It’s safer for everyone if I leave.”

Elmer didn’t respond, so Rosa continued, “Do you know who I really am? What I’ve supposedly done?”

“Yep, I read the newspapers.”

Rosa rubbed another smooth tile. “You know about Eric?”

“I know all about the Santellises. They’ve been dealing in Gila City for fifty years. Back when I was a young man, I ran into the father a bit more than I wanted.”

“How well do you know Yano?”

“Not well at all. First time I met him, wife and I were just getting started. I was a fireman, but I drove a delivery truck on my off hours. Anything to earn money. I met Yano Santellis at a company picnic.”

“What did you think?”

Elmer chuckled. “I thought he was young. And I thought he was a smooth talker.”

“When I met him,” Rosa said, “he was old, but he was still a smooth talker.”

“Why did you stop being a nurse?”

“You’re as bad as Sam with the questions.”

“Having you here is a bit of excitement.”

Rosa put the final T to theword trust and added a measly four points to her score. She stared at the word. Trust. Maybe it was time to trust Sam. She’d start small. “I stopped being a nurse the day I stole half a million dollars in drug money. I became a fugitive. How can I get in touch with Sam?”

“He told me not to contact him unless it’s an emergency.”

“This is an emergency.” Rosa scooted her chair back and stood up. It was all gone. All the control, all the careful planning. She’d messed up more than once, the red Mustang just a small part of it. “Look…” She turned, trying to figure out how this man worked.

He waited patiently. Liberty Cab would welcome him with open arms. He’d make a great cab driver. He liked small talk; he exuded trustworthiness and safety. And, there was his penchant for games. The cab drivers played checkers, cards, all kinds of games between shifts. Rosa had kept her distance. Sitting across from a coworker was too ripe an opportunity for some tidbit of information to slip.

“Look,” she repeated. “If you let me make a phone call, I promise not to try to escape.”

The older man smoothed imaginary hair and Rosa smiled. Her own father had often stood in front of a mirror rearranging strands. Her mother had kissed his bald head and joked about only so many perfect heads and the rest needing hair.

“I have your word.” Elmer’s fatherly stare made Rosa long for her father.

“My word.”

Elmer pushed away from the table with both hands. His movements were slow and precise as if he wanted to give her time to change her mind, or to at least think about what she was promising.

He pulled a cell phone out of a desk drawer and punched in a number before handing it to her.

It rang four times before Sam answered.

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