Sacrifice Fly by Tim O’Mara

Sacrifice Fly by Tim O’Mara

Author:Tim O’Mara
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin’s Press


Chapter 18

I GOT AS FAR AS THE BODEGA by the subway and decided I wanted a cup of coffee. I filled the cup halfway and dumped in a lot of sugar. I had the guy fill the rest with ice, and I took the cup outside. Shaking it all together, I leaned against the entrance to the subway and watched as all the busy people hurried past me, up and down the subway stairs, across the avenue, and around the crowded intersection. I was the only one not in motion, and I felt a small sense of peace. I’d been moving a lot the past couple of days. Maybe Ron had been right to send me home.

I took a long sip of my coffee and thought about what I’d do with my unexpected day off when a car horn sounded, and a dark blue sedan pulled over to the curb in front of where I was standing. The car had a logo on its passenger side door that took me a few seconds to place. A snake wrapped around a cross. The passenger window rolled down.

“Mr. Donne,” Elijah Cruz said, leaning across the seat. “I believe you are late for school.”

“I got sent home,” I said. “Sick.”

“You do not look sick to me.”

“That’s what I thought until my boss told me I was wrong. How did everything go with Milagros last night?”

“The doctor said she was fine. No injuries or bruises. She was obviously disturbed by the events of the past week, but he cleared her to be released to her grandmother.”

“Good news,” I said.

“Can I give you a ride? You are going home, I presume.”

I stepped over and placed my hand on the roof. The cool air coming out of the car tempted me. “That’s what I was debating. Seems a shame to waste a day like this.”

“You enjoy the heat?”

“To a point,” I said. “It just doesn’t seem like an indoor day.”

The passenger door lock popped up.

“Exactly as I was thinking,” Elijah Cruz said. “Come. I want to show you something that I believe will be of interest to you.” And, as if sensing my hesitation, he added, “One hour of your time, Mr. Donne. Then I will take you home or wherever it is you wish to go next.”

“Wherever?” I asked.

Elijah Cruz smiled. “Within reason.”

He didn’t take me far. We were about halfway to my apartment when he pulled over and parked illegally in front of McCarren Pool. “Excuse me.” He reached into his glove compartment and removed a blue card with an official-looking seal on it. “Come.” He placed the card on the dashboard.

“You have some business at the pool, Mr. Cruz?”

“Come.”

We exited the car, and I followed him over to the pool’s main gates, which have been chained shut for over twenty years. Not today. He swung open one of the gates and held it for me as if welcoming me to a backyard barbecue.

“It is okay, Mr. Donne,” he said. “I have the city’s permission.



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