The Candidate's Daughter by Catherine Lea

Author:Catherine Lea
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Mystery, Suspense, Thriller
ISBN: 9780473261757
Publisher: Brakelight Press
Published: 2014-01-31T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

DAY TWO: 8:16 AM—KELSEY

Maria was right; the car did handle like a piece of shit. Kelsey couldn’t understand anyone stealing a car like this. The engine was running on three of its four cylinders and whereas the Impala’s suspension was spongy, the suspension in this thing was nonexistent. At a guess she’d say the struts and the shocks were all shot and judging from the screeching sounds coming from the front wheels every time she turned a corner, at least two of the CV joints were screwed. It had one thing going for it, though—it was still mobile. All it had to do was get to Stacy’s Gym. Then it could fall apart in the dirt.

She nursed the car along the backstreets until she got to Brookpark. At least in this neighborhood she didn’t have to worry about the L21s. This was outside their territory. This was Crims territory. She had no beef with them. Her biggest concern here was the cops. A car like this would get taken off the road in two seconds flat. Kelsey figured Maria hadn’t taken it out of her driveway from the time it landed in front of her house. Kelsey counted herself lucky the battery wasn’t dead.

Around a dozen cars were parked in the lot outside Stacy’s Gym when she got there. The place was primarily a backstreet training facility for would-be boxers and kids off the street; in fact, for anyone that wanted to try his luck. Or hers. Stacy’s clientele ran from semi-professional fighters all the way to street-fighters and gang members. This day and age, it didn’t pay to be fussy where your dollars came from. So, Stacy’s clients tended to come in before it got too busy, and by eleven there were usually a half-dozen or so waiting to step into the ring. She checked her watch—it was nearly eight-twenty. She shouldered her way through the front door and squinted into the gloom.

It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the lighting. The place was dim and dingy and stank of sweat and grease and testosterone all mixed together with a measure of desperation. Two fighters were going toe to toe under the glare of harsh white lighting of the ring while their respective trainers watched on and yelled instructions, jabbing and hooking the air from the sidelines. Same old, she thought as she walked straight past them and crossed to the weight training area that was gated-off to her right.

Until now she had gone pretty much unnoticed. It wasn’t until she jumped the gate and moved quickly down the rows of machines and benches, searching the faces either side, that she felt attention slowly turning on her, like she was crossing into foreign territory, walking on someone else’s soil. A week ago these guys would have been calling out to her, making jokes or tossing a friendly taunt her way.

Not now. The expressions told her she had broken some unwritten law and she was no longer welcome in their midst.

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