An Eye For Danger (book 1)

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

“Not far to go,” said Sam, his head reclining against the taxi’s back seat, his eyes inspecting every person on every corner, while perspiration dripped down his temple.

My toes never uncurled as we drove north on Central Park West. Even my stomach knew we were about to cross 108th. Between Sam’s sweating and my panic attack, Raul must have thought we were both druggies.

“That’s the drop,” Sam rasped, indicating the sunken deli at the corner.

Oh, God. My mouth went dry. Park West Café & Deli was an easy six-block walk from my house, but I never ventured beyond my five-block radius to find out, especially at dusk. Especially not to the deli. Sam was taking me back to the scene of the crime. Mine.

“Have him loop the circle and double back.” Sam nudged me. “Jules!”

My Spanish was sloppy, but I reluctantly repeated orders. Raul moved to the center lane and followed the same course Luke had driven three years earlier to round the circle. Just before his Audi exploded.

Sam watched my hand wrench the seat cover so tightly the elastic hem nearly snapped. He took my hand and squeezed. “Hey, we’ll be fine. Easy in, easy out.”

We took the circle without incident, doubled back south and turned right onto 108th, a street lined with anorexic elms and brick-and-mortar apartments that had been converted into multimillion-dollar homes for their proximity to the glorified park. Anyone would feel lucky to live here. Anyone else.

“Christ,” said Sam as we passed the deli. “One door in, one door out. That’s bad.”

Black iron fencing lined the sidewalk around the corner store, keeping pedestrians from plummeting into the basement-level patio where the store entrance was located, along with a few outdoor tables and chairs. The deli was known for a killer Turkish panini. And a killer drop.

Sam pounded the Plexiglas divider for Raul to stop a few buildings past the deli and then turned to me. “You put in your time. Now go home, be happy, Jules. For both of us.”

He struggled out of the car. With his fever and injuries, and my brewing meltdown, I couldn’t allow Sam out of my sight.

Rattling directions to Raul, I slid out of the car and slammed the door. “Sorry, I’m a little deaf in that ear,” I said to Sam as Raul drove off.

“No kidding.” Sam smirked. “Okay, but stay close.”

I held onto his arm as we headed toward the deli corner. A screaming horn sounded from a shiny black Escalade that Raul had cut off like any decent cabbie.

Sam looked toward the park and paused.

“If something’s wrong, tell me now.” I tried to trace his sightline.