This story started off life 16 years ago. Back then there was just one scene. It was an idea that was forgotten about until I became stuck a few months back with another CA story I was trying to write. Now this thing has taken on a life of its own! I look forward to hearing what you think of it.
The young woman pulled down on the fraying brim of her baseball cap, trying to shield her eyes from the crowds of people making their way along 42nd Street. Keeping her head low, she avoided eye contact with the office workers who were hurrying on their way back to work.
All around her was the normal hustle and bustle of the lunchtime crowd. Street vendors with their carts of hotdogs and pretzels lurked on almost every corner, trying to push their wares onto the people streaming out of the dingy, rundown strip joints and theatres that lined both sides of the street. This district of New York wasn't one that she was fond of, but she had business here today, and had no option but to run the gauntlet of humanity that crowded onto the sidewalks.
She winced as another elbow jammed into her side, and a low curse was aimed in her direction. She ignored the man, and weaved her way as best she could through the press of people. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself. She had a drop to make, and then she could start to think about making her way back to the meagre comforts of her apartment.
She shivered beneath the thin material of her coat, and wished that she could afford something warmer. The January weather was unforgiving. A cold snap had hit the city, and there was the threat of snow before the week was out. She jammed her hands deep into her pockets in an effort to keep them warm.
"Hey!" there was a shout from behind. She fought against the urge to turn her head to see who it was. She tipped her head forward again and tried to pick up the pace. There were only a few more blocks to the nearest subway station, and if she could make it there without being spotted, she was fairly certain that she would be safe.
She heard the sound of the booted feet too late to react. Moments later, a heavy gloved hand clamped down hard on her shoulder and she struggled to shake it loose. Another hand grabbed her left arm, and she felt herself being pulled towards a narrow alleyway that ran down the side of one of the movie theatres. She dug her heels into the uneven pavement as best as she could, but another pair of hands grabbed at her right arm, and she was bodily dragged off of the street and down the narrow gap between two buildings. Her feet scrambled to keep in contact with the uneven surface of the alleyway; the cans and discarded bottles that littered the narrow gap making it almost impossible for her to maintain her balance. She opened her mouth to cry out, but almost immediately, one of the hands left her right arm and clamped tightly across her mouth. The gloved hand was large and partially covered her nose as well, making it almost impossible to breath. She struggled hard to free herself from the two men, but neither was interested in letting their quarry go. They kept a tight hold on the young woman until they reached the small area at the back of the theatre.
She gratefully gulped at the air, as the hand was removed from her mouth. Her relief was only short-lived as the two men pushed her towards the wall in front of her. There was no way to slow herself, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the impact.
She slammed into the brickwork; the rough surface taking the skin off of her left cheek as her head collided with the wall. She felt the front of her head explode with pain, and it was followed moments later by a feeling of nausea.
Before she had a chance to regain her senses, she was spun round, a pair of hands pushing at her shoulders, forcing her back up against the wall.
"Where is it?" a man's voice forced its way through the fog in her brain.
She didn't answer, her mind still spinning from the impact with the wall.
The man who was holding her against the wall swore impatiently, and drove his fist into her stomach. She let out a cry of pain, unable to move as his hand returned again to her shoulder – pinning her in place.
"Fine," his companion remarked. "Play it any way that you want. Mr Gage has told you that he won't put up with this constant encroaching into his territory. You want to keep making the same mistake; you're going to have to pay the price."
The woman flinched as the man drew closer. She tried to move again, but the hands gripping her shoulders only tightened, holding her firmly in place. There was nowhere to go.
Rough hands grabbed at her clothes, and she fought against the urge to cry out, as they pawed at her, trying to find where she'd hidden the drugs that the men were certain she was carrying. She heard the smaller of the two men swear as he failed to find anything more in her pockets than a handful of coins and a subway token.
Once the none too gentle search was completed, he stood back, and indicated that his companion should let her go. As the pressure was lifted from her shoulders, the second man delivered another punch to her stomach before spitting at her feet.
"Mr Gage has made it clear that he doesn't want to see you on this patch again Mary," the shorter man growled, as he watched the young woman sink to the floor. He pocketed the subway token and threw the small handful of coins at the woman's feet. "If we find you back here, then next time the treatment will be worse. This is the last warning that we'll be giving out. The next time you or any other of Rickard's mules appear on the streets ... it'll be the last delivery you make. You hear me Mary?"
The woman nodded, her hands wrapped around her stomach, not making any effort to get to her feet.
Satisfied that the message had been understood, the two men turned on their heels and walked away, melting effortlessly back into the press of bodies filling the busy sidewalk.
The woman drew her knees up to her chest and waited for the pain in her chest to subside. With freezing fingers, she dabbed at the blood that was now starting to run down her face from her bloodied nose and cut cheek. She had known that Gage's thugs were on the lookout for her, but she thought that she'd done enough to avoid them. Rickard had made it clear just how important it was that the deliveries were made – failure just wasn't an option.
As the pain finally subsided, she scratched at the ground, trying to locate all the fallen coins. There wasn't enough for another subway ride, but gaining access to the tracks was never too much of a problem; with the state she was in, no-one would want to acknowledge her, and people would rather pretend she wasn't there than worry about the fact that she was riding the subway without paying. She pushed herself slowly to her feet, trying to ignore the dull ache in her ribs – the blows had not been heavy enough to break anything, but she was fairly certain that she would soon be sporting some livid bruises.
She raised a hand to the top of her hat, and felt for the two small plastic bags that were pinned to her hair. She allowed herself a small smile of victory as she realised that they were still there. Gage's men might have the advantage in the size and strength department, but they were invariably stupid. Dabbing at her bleeding cheek with a handkerchief she made her way slowly back out towards the sidewalk, trying to ignore the stares from the passers-by on the street as they took in her battered appearance. She pulled the brim of her hat down lower, and shuffled on her way.
Kris was cold. She wasn't willing to put any money on it, but she was almost convinced that it was colder in New York than it had been in Vail. There was a good reason - she reminded herself as she shivered within her heavy coat – that she chose to live on the west coast. She peered over the top of her scarf at the people bustling past on the sidewalk and wondered how they put up with such relentlessly freezing conditions year in, year out.
"Why would anyone in their right mind choose to live in a city this cold?" she muttered darkly to her two companions as she pushed her chin into her scarf, trying to keep out the bitingly cold January wind that seemed to be on some personal crusade against her.
"You're asking the wrong person," Kelly told her, as she nudged her friend gently in the back, trying to persuade her to move faster towards the entrance in front of her.
Tiffany looked between the two shivering women and tried to suppress a smile. "You two have spent far too much time soaking up the California sun," she chided. "You've forgotten what real weather is like."
"Real weather is warm sun and light sea breezes," Kris grumbled as she pushed on the heavy door in front of her, receiving yet another prod in the back from Kelly as she struggled with the cumbersome door. "This is extreme weather."
"And extremely unnecessary weather at that," Kelly added as she hurried Kris inside and moved into the relative warmth of the building, and allowed herself to relax slightly. "I'm not surprised no-one in this city stops to talk to you; they're all too set on getting indoors and out of the cold."
Tiff shook her head. "This is New York," she reminded them. "That's the bracing wind from the Atlantic you can feel on your faces."
"I could have happily gone my whole life without experiencing bracing wind like that," Kris told her, as she pulled her hand out of one of her gloves and pinched the end of her freezing nose. "Thank goodness for that," she announced with relief. "It's still there. I was beginning to think that it had frozen and fallen off!"
Kelly laughed at the expression on her friend's face. "Just remember that in a day or two from now, we'll be on a flight back home."
"I'm dreaming of nothing else," Kris admitted, as she rubbed her frozen hands together, trying to coax some warmth into them.
"Come on you two," Tiffany again felt the need to try and change her friend's attitudes toward the city. "You've at least got to admit that this place is pretty impressive."
Kris and Kelly glanced around at the tall marble pillars and the wide walkways that extended out in front of them, watching the commuters as they effortlessly manoeuvred their way through the crowds heading directly for the platforms that they required.
"Ok Ok," Kelly finally conceded. "Grand Central does have a certain something."
Kris frowned. "But the ceiling looks as though it's in need of a decent clean. There could be anything up there beneath all that muck."
"True," Tiffany conceded, looking up at the dark green of the ceiling and wishing that her friends could appreciate the city a little more. She had been looking forward to the chance to show them around, but work had kept them busy for the past few days. With the day of their flight back across the country fast approaching, Tiffany was determined to take them to at least a few of the city's landmarks. She had a decision to make, and taking in the sights of the city was going to play its own part in helping her reach that decision. She racked her brains, trying to think of where else to take them. The previous day they had taken one of the many tourist boats out to the Statue of Liberty, but the freezing weather had taken the shine off the visit; both of her companions huddling together in the unheated cabin of the boat, looking as though they'd rather be doing anything else. Tiffany felt that same emotion emanating from them as she led them through the busy concourse.
"Let me buy you coffee," she told them, trying to inject a spark of enthusiasm into the conversation. "And then I'll take you up to the top of the Empire State Building. Give you a chance to take a proper look at the city."
Kris and Kelly exchanged glances; both wondering how to get out of the proposed visit without upsetting their friend. It was obvious to them that she was trying to show off the best of the city, but all that either of them wanted was to head back to the warmth of the hotel and finish up the paperwork that was still outstanding from the case that they'd been working on.
The case itself had been a relatively simple one, and both Kris and Kelly had been surprised that Tiffany had shown such an interest in taking it on. With Charlie away in Europe, they'd been left to their own devices for a month – Bosley assuring them that he'd only ring if something came in that he thought they might be interested in.
Everything had been quiet for the first two weeks, but then the call had come from a very apologetic Bosley, and the three of them had duly reported to the office to hear what Bos had to say.
Tiffany had eagerly picked up the dossier that Bos had prepared on the case; and before Kelly had known what was happening, she had found herself booked on a flight with Kris and Tiffany, and leaving the relative warmth of the west coast, for the miserable, freezing, conditions of the east coast.
Bosley had a lot to answer for when they finally got home. She had spent a miserable five days in New York, chasing after some third rate fence, who thought that he'd be able to shift some priceless antiques without arousing the suspicion of the local dealers. She'd discussed the matter with Kris late one night over coffee, and they'd both agreed that local PD's could easily have handled the case. The only one of them who seemed to be enjoying the trip was Tiffany. She seemed to relish the biting wind, and the noise and bustle of the city; she was certainly the only one of them who felt at home wrapped up in a heavy coat. Kelly thought wistfully of the party at the beach house that Kris had offered to throw. Now, that was something that she was looking forward to…. If they ever managed to get back to the California sunshine.
She forced a smile on her face and gave Tiffany her full attention. She took in the hopeful expression on her friend's face and knew that she couldn't let her down.
"Coffee sounds great," she told her friend, digging Kris in the ribs as she heard the young woman sigh. She watched as Tiffany's eyes lit up.
"I know a little place not far from here," Tiffany told them both warmly, before turning on her heel and setting off across the concourse as though she were an official tour guide, escorting a party. "Follow me," she called back unnecessarily.
Kris caught hold of Kelly's arm and glowered at her friend. "What are you trying to do? Give me frostbite?"
Kelly patted Kris on the arm. "Don't worry," she assured her. "I'll make sure to tell Tiff about some important phone call from home that you have to be back in the hotel to receive." She watched as it was Kris' turn to smile. "You can be sat there wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee and thinking about me as I freeze to death at the top of a building."
Kris squeezed her friend's arm before letting it go. "It'll be a character building experience," she promised as she headed off after the retreating figure of Tiffany.
Kelly shook her head, before setting off after the pair of them.
Warren Rickard tapped the end of his cigarette lighter against the mahogany top of his desk. He was not a patient man, and he was certainly not used to being kept waiting by subordinates. He sighed heavily and tapped the heavy gold lighter on the desk again. There was the sound of muted tones from the other side of the heavy office door, and Rickard glanced up needlessly at the clock on the wall. The girl was nearly two hours late; something would have to be done about that. He was trying to make an impact on the city; trying to make a name for himself; one that the affluent would want to court, and one that the street would respect. Successful business deals were cementing friendships in important places, but people like Mary Thomas were letting him down where the big money was really to be made.
He pushed the thoughts away as he heard a hesitant knock at the door.
"Enter," he bellowed, placing the lighter on the desk before pushing his hands through his closely cropped black hair. He was proud of his appearance and - no matter who the visitor – he wanted to make sure that he was looking his best.
The door swung open on well-oiled hinges and Lewis appeared in the doorway. The man was a muscle head, and no matter how hard he tried, Rickard couldn't make his right hand man look like anything other than a thug in a suit.
"What is it?" Rickard asked, although he already knew the answer to the question.
"Mary Thomas is here to see you," Lewis grunted before stepping out of the way and letting Rickard see the young woman who had been standing behind him.
"And what precisely have you been doing?" Rickard asked icily, as he took in the state the young woman was in. He clicked his fingers at Lewis, and the man pushed her hard in the back, causing her to stumble into the room. As she came to a halt in front of his desk, Lewis snatched the baseball cap from her head, and then yanked the two packets none-too-gently from her hair.
The woman let out a yelp, as Lewis managed to grab a handful of her hair as he removed the small packets. She glared up at the tall man with undisguised contempt.
Rickard looked at the two packets with distain, as they were dropped on the desk.
"And what precisely are you still doing with those?" he demanded to know, switching his attention back to Mary.
"I ran into a little trouble," she confessed, meeting Rickard's gaze and holding it.
Rickard took in the bruising that was starting to show around her left eye, and the dried blood that was still evident on her cheek.
"So you didn't make the sale?"
"I didn't make the sale," she confirmed. "Gage had his thugs out on the street. They spotted me as I was making my way to the rendezvous."
"That was careless of you," Rickard noted. "You'd better hope for your sake that you do better this afternoon." He paused and took in the expression on her face. "You have some sort of a problem with that?"
She opened her mouth to reply, but Rickard cut in first.
"I pay you to deliver packages. I don't pay you to let me down time and time again." Rickard nodded at Lewis, and the man moved in close behind her, pulling down on her ponytail and wrapping his other hand around her throat.
Rickard watched impassively as the woman gasped for breath as Lewis' hand closed easily around her slender throat, her fingers scrabbling ineffectually, trying to loosen the hold the taller man had on her.
"You deliver what I tell you to deliver; when I tell you to deliver it, or Lewis here will see to it that you're not in a state to deliver anything again." Rickard waited for Lewis to increase the pressure on her throat before continuing. "Am I making myself clear?"
Despite Lewis' tight grip, she managed a slight nod, and satisfied that he was getting his message across, Rickard motioned for Lewis to remove her from the room.
"Get her out of here," he spat. "And make sure she understands the importance of completing this particular task."
"Consider it done Mr Rickard," Lewis acknowledged as he released his grip on the woman's throat, not giving her time to recover her breath before he grabbed hold of her arm and dragged her roughly from the room.
Rickard watched as Lewis manhandled the woman from the room. Women like Mary Thomas were useful. They could be relied upon to do what they were told, and if they did step out of line, then there was a very simple way to get them back working again. Lewis had his uses, and they extended far beyond the basic duties of a bodyguard.
He waited for the door to his office to close before he returned his attention to the work in front of him. He flinched slightly at the sound of the first slap, but quickly tuned it from his head, making a mental note to remind Lewis to take his work further away from the office in future.
Kelly suppressed a shiver and wished that she'd thought to wear a hat. She bundled her scarf tighter around her neck in an effort to keep out the wind that was biting at her ears and nose.
She glanced across at Tiffany, and was frustrated to see that her friend didn't appear to be too adversely affected by the weather. Tiffany was wrapped up in a long black coat, and seemed not to notice the chill wind that was causing her to shiver despite the heavy layers that she was wearing. Being out in the cold was, in part, her fault. She had been the one to suggest that they not ride the subway. She'd ridden the subway on the previous day, and it was an experience that she wasn't overly keen on repeating. She'd persuaded Tiffany that they should take to the street and flag down a passing cab. Tiffany had warned her that persuading one of the many yellow cabs to actually stop for them wasn't going to be easy during rush hour, but Kelly had been insistent, and now here she was, shivering on the sidewalk of 42nd Street, trying to avoid being trampled by the press of people who were making their own way towards home.
She grumbled inwardly at her own stubbornness, and buried her nose into her scarf. She had to admit that she didn't feel entirely safe walking along the wide sidewalk. It seemed as though every other doorway contained a group of young men huddled together; all smoking and watching the passing pedestrians, looking for an easy mark. She straightened her shoulders, trying to look as though she belonged. She risked a glance at Tiffany, trying to see if her friend had noticed the change in her body language. She felt slightly foolish, but she was out of her comfort zone here.
"It's only another couple of blocks," Tiffany's voice told her, slightly muffled by the scarf she was wearing.
"I'm fine," Kelly told her, privately wishing that she hadn't let Kris off the hook so easily. She had to admit that she was envious at the thought of her friend all warm and snug back inside the hotel suite.
Tiffany turned her head towards her friend and smiled. "I know you're fine. It's just that I'm looking forward to getting off the street. The very air around here feels as though it's filthy."
Kelly smiled at her friend's admission.
Shouts from the opposite side of the street attracted her attention. A woman was dodging between the slower moving pedestrians on the opposite sidewalk and had just narrowly avoided knocking over a man who was carrying a number of parcels. The man swore at the departing figure, but she paid him no heed. The face of the woman was hidden beneath a faded ball cap, and the turned up collar of the coat that she was wearing, but there was something so familiar about the way that she dodged and weaved around the other people that drew Kelly's attention. She tapped Tiffany on the arm and pointed at the next street crossing.
"I need to get over the road," she told her friend. "It's impossible, but I think I've just seen someone I know."
"Sure thing," Tiffany acknowledged, coming to a halt at the next crosswalk. "I'll come with you."
Kelly waited impatiently for the crosswalk sign to change, aware that each second meant that the figure was moving further and further away. Eventually the 'Walk' sign lit up, and Kelly broke into a gentle jog, aiming to close the gap that had formed.
After a block and a half, she was beginning to think that she'd lost the trail, but then she caught a glimpse of the ball cap up ahead and renewed her efforts.
"Where's the fire?" Tiff asked, as she noted the way that Kelly was starting to break into a jog again.
"I think I know that person in front," she repeated her earlier statement. "I mean it's impossible, but I just want to see if I'm right."
Tiff was about to say something in reply, when she felt herself being pushed roughly out of the way.
"Hey!" she yelled indignantly, as two men in dark coats barged past; their eyes fixed on someone in the crowd ahead.
Kelly watched as the figure she was following turned their head at the sound of the commotion. She caught a glimpse of a face she knew only too well, before it was obscured again by the throng of bodies.
She struggled to get a better angle on the street ahead, but none of the pedestrians were willing to give her an inch of the sidewalk. The two men who had barged Tiffany out of the way were making better headway, and Kelly thought that she caught another glimpse of the ball cap, as its owner also broke into a run.
Realising that it was now impossible to catch up with the fleeing figure, Kelly turned her attention back to her friend.
"Are you ok?" she asked in a concerned tone.
"Sure," Tiffany told her ruefully, as she rubbed her arm. "Those guys seemed in an awful hurry." When Kelly didn't reply, Tiffany looked in the direction that her friend was now staring in. "Are you alright? You look as though you've just seen a ghost."
Kelly shook her head. "Call me crazy, but I think I just saw Sabrina!"