A Family Affair
Disclaimer: Don't own them. Just playing! Enjoy!
Chapter 6.
Every few minutes, Sara Pezzini glanced up at the clock on the wall of her and Danny Woo's office. She had long since given up trying to concentrate on the pile of paperwork in front of her.
It was almost 2:30. Danny had been gone for more than an hour, and if he didn't get back soon, Sara was going to be hard-pressed to meet Joey after school. She didn't want to risk having the discussion she needed to have with him at his home, where his parents or younger sister might intrude.
Miracle of miracles, the homicide department had remained quiet. Sara hoped that it would stay that way until she could get away and meet up with her nephew.
'Finally!' she thought as she spotted Danny in the hallway. But just before he could enter their office, Captain Dante called him into his office.
"Petzini, care to join us?" Dante asked sarcastically, when Sara didn't immediately get up from her desk.
Mentally rolling her eyes at his deliberate mangling of her last name, Sara slouched into his office.
She didn't like Bruno Dante, and she knew the feeling was mutual. Sara always got the feeling that Dante resented her for being a woman in what he considered to be a man's world. His attitude toward her bordered on open contempt, and Sara gave as good as she got, barely bothering to hide the fact that she thought the man was an idiot. On top of that, she strongly suspected he was on the take.
"What's up, Cap?" Danny asked.
"I want you and Petzini to lend a hand to Orlinsky and McCartey on the case they're working, seeing as we seem to be a little slow lately," Dante smirked, as if he thought his quip was the very height of cleverness.
This time, Sara really did roll her eyes. Unfortunately, her captain chose that moment to look at her.
"Am I boring you, Detective? Do you have something better to do?"
"No, sir," Sara said sullenly.
"The vic's name is Paco Gutierrez. Early this morning, his body was found dumped under the FDR Drive, near the Seaport. Two bullets to the head. ME says he'd been dead maybe 12 hours when he was found. He was a dealer, mostly smack, and his turf was a stretch along Avenue A, about four blocks south of Stuytown. Witnesses saw him working his corner last night. Business was brisk, but we got a witness says he saw two kids hassling Gutierrez right around the time he would have bought it. One of our squad cars responded to a report of shots fired in the vicinity around 8:00 p.m. last night, but the officers didn't see anybody when they got there. I want you and Petzini to canvas the nabe, asking if anybody has seen two kids fitting these descriptions." Captain Dante pushed a couple of sheets of paper across his desk toward them.
"Captain, mind if I ask why we're being put on this case when Danny and me still have a shitload of paperwork that needs processing, and Jake and me have four cases we're still supposed to be working?" Sara asked, trying to control her panic at how the trouble Joey Siri, Jr. was in seemed to be growing exponentially.
"Nice mouth, Petzini, and yeah, I do mind," Dante sneered at her. "Dismissed."
Danny followed Sara from their boss's office into their own, closing the door behind them.
"What a jerk!" Sara huffed, dropping down in her chair and rubbing her hands over her face tiredly.
After glancing over his shoulder to make sure Dante was otherwise occupied, Danny slid a manila interoffice envelop onto her desk before going around to his side of their double desk and sitting down.
"Your guy's named Angel Medina, and he's a scary dude, Pez. Suspicion of drug trafficking, murder, and assault with a deadly weapon. He did his first stretch at Rikers at age 15 for armed robbery. He then did a two-year stretch for aggravated assault. The vic was his own father, who he beat into a coma."
"Let me guess: Oedipus complex?" Sara muttered, opening the envelop and looking at the mugshot and rap sheet of the man she had "witnessed" kill Paco Gutierrez.
"My boy Mike in narcotics said Medina is the supplier and collector for the Alphabet City territory. Narcotics has been trying to get to him for a while, but he's highly suspicious and tends to shoot first and ask questions later. Look Sara, Mike's my friend and all, but he got kind of antsy when I gave him this guy's description. I get the strong feeling narcotics and the DEA might have Medina in their sights. Mike hinted that they might have finally got a guy close to him. And now Dante's assigned us to work this case with Orlinsky and Jake. I don't think that's a coincidence, do you?"
Suddenly, the Witchblade warmed on her wrist, and Sara hastily dropped her right hand into her lap as she saw that the stone was glowing brightly. A brief flash from the vision it had shown her that morning in the morgue was projected onto her mind's eye, like some kind of weird slideshow. In the first slide, she saw the laughing face of the man Angel Medina had only identified as Tommy. Next slide: Tommy's face as he listened to Paco's story. Next slide: His startled expression as Angel pulled a gun. Next slide: Over the shoulder of Angel Medina, his shocked face as Medina squeezed the trigger twice. This last picture faded to black as though the projector's lamp had burned out. End of slideshow.
"Everything's connected," Sara murmured, giving her head a little shake. "You wanna lay odds the inside guy is our witness?"
"That would be my guess, partner. Except how would he know that Paco got shaken down by Joey's girl and how would he have their descriptions?" Danny paused, and Sara could practically see the wheels turning in his head. "Unless, he was there when Paco reported back to Angel with the bad news about losing his stash and take. Being that he's a hotheaded psychopath, that would mean Angel is most likely our shooter."
Her partner's dark eyes met hers, his concern for her and her surrogate family clearly visible in them.
"Sara, I know Joey's a good kid. But it's going to look awful bad for him if the gun comes back with his and Paco's prints on it. If narcotics and the DEA have finally managed to get a guy next to Angel, I doubt they're gonna be willing to have him blow his cover just so he can testify that Joey and Amanda didn't off Paco. Plus, Angel is going to be looking to tie up loose ends, too. You better give Joey a heads up."
"Yeah, I intend to." She glanced at the clock. "Oh, shit! I gotta go if I'm gonna catch him at his school! Cover for me?" she said, grabbing her jacket and helmet.
"Always, partner," Danny said, pulling on his jacket, too. "I'll take an unmarked car and pretend to canvas the neighborhood where Paco dealt so Dante doesn't get suspicious." Then his eyes met hers speculatively. "Tell me one thing, Pez. How did you know about this Angel Medina guy before Paco's body was even identified?"
"Oh, um, Joey must have mentioned the name," she said lamely as they walked out together. Sara was relieved when Dante didn't notice that she was taking her helmet with her, which would have alerted him to the fact that the partners were going their separate ways.
"And where did he hear it from?"
"I'll ask him that when I see him. See you later." And she beat a hasty retreat.
*****
Several minutes later, Sara parked her Buell a couple of blocks from the pedestrian bridge that spanned West Street, on the other side of which was Stuyvesant High School. She started walking briskly in the direction of the school.
But she had only gone about a block when the Witchblade imparted a distressingly familiar warm swirl to her wrist, and Sara felt her whole body instantly tense up.
"My Lady, a word?"
"You wanna word, Nottingham?" she rounded on the tall, black-clad assassin furiously. "Here's one for you: Stay the hell away from me!"
She glared at him, daring him to point out that that had been more than one word.
Wisely, he remained silent. In fact, he just stood there, head down, eyes on the ground, with that damn pitiful look on his face.
"Oh, for God's sake, enough with the kicked-puppy already!"
'Wait a sec, did I just say that out loud?' Sara thought. 'Get a grip, Pezzini, you're losing it!'
Nottingham's expression changed to one of confusion, and his hazel eyes looked at her from under his long, thick black lashes.
"I have never abused a puppy, Sara, so I am not certain I know what -- "
"Look," she cut him off, "I'm kind of in a hurry, so just give me your latest cryptic tidbit and then go away."
"The Witchblade gave you a vision this morning," the assassin said, surprisingly without prevarication.
"Your owner tell you that?" Sara snipped, glancing over her shoulder toward the pedestrian bridge. A steady stream of kids were starting to cross it.
"No. I sensed it," Nottingham said softly, making rare direct eye contact with her. "We are connected, you and I, my Lady."
Sara frowned up at him. "'Connected,' hunh? What is that, stalker- speak for you'd like to nail me?"
She was fascinated to see a flush of red creep along the high cheekbones of the dark-haired man, whose eyes were once again firmly fixed on the ground. 'My God, I do believe I made him blush!' Sara thought.
"The vision showed you what really happened last night, did it not?" Nottingham persisted.
Sara made an impatient gesture. "Yeah, so? By the way, you're off the hook as far as that drug dealer Joey got the gun from. Somebody put two bullets in his brain last night, saving you the trouble. Now, as much fun as this has been, I've really got to go," she said, turning to leave.
But Nottingham's big, black-clad frame spun in front of her so fast, she was forced to stop in mid-step or run into him.
"I think the Witchblade's vision allowed you to see the face of his killer," he said, green-shot brown eyes briefly meeting her outraged green ones again.
"Yeah, up close and personal. Now back off, Nottingham, I've got to go and talk to my nephew!" Sara growled, putting her hand on her gun.
"There is grave danger across that bridge, my Lady. Perhaps I should accompany you," Kenneth Irons' bodyguard said, spinning gracefully to her side.
Sara didn't move. "I assume you're speaking metaphorically, Nottingham, because after you practically flattened him this morning, Joey lays eyes on you and takes off running the other way."
"Perhaps if I offer him an apology for my hasty behavior in the alley this morning, I can make amends," the exceedingly strange man said thoughtfully.
This time it was Sara who spun in front of Ian. "Listen here, Mr. Cloak-and-Dagger," she said, shaking an angry finger in his startled face, "you stay the hell away from my nephew! He's probably gonna wake up screaming tonight because of you!"
"I am under strict orders to stay close to you, Lady Sara," Nottingham said quietly, assuming his weird parade rest stance, head bowed, hands clasped behind his back. "So, if you are going to converse with your nephew, I will, of a necessity, be close by. I am sorry this fact is upsetting to you."
"Ohhh, 'strict orders,'" Sara mocked, then winced when the kicked- puppy made another appearance. She heaved a sigh. "Oh, all right. Just hurry up and do your ninja tough guy disappearing act, and then stay out of sight. Joey's had enough trauma today."
"Hey, Aunt Sara."
Sara closed her eyes tight as she heard a familiar voice right behind her. Blindly, she raised a clenched fist and lightly bounced it off the black-clad wall that was Nottingham's chest. 'Still there, of course,' she thought resignedly, failing to notice the assassin's swiftly indrawn breath at the physical contact. 'And this nightmare day from hell just keeps getting worse.'
She turned around rigidly, pasting a smile on her face. "Hey, Joey. I was just on my way to see you. Funny, how you found me first, hunh?"
"Yeah." Joey's eyes, only slightly freaked and wide, went beyond her. "Hey, Mr. Nottingham."
"Hello, young Joseph. I think I owe you an apology for acting a bit hastily in the alley next to the 11th Precinct this morning," her psycho stalker said in his deep, quiet voice.
"That's okay, I know you were just looking out for my Aunt Sara," Joey stunned Sara by replying. "It must of looked pretty bad, me putting that you-know-what in my knapsack and then waiting for her to come outside."
"I am glad that you understand and that I had this opportunity to apologize," Nottingham said.
A bunch of high school kids walked by their tense little group, throwing them curious looks.
"Okay! Right. Now that that's settled, walk me back to my bike, Joey. We need to talk." Sara hooked an arm around the boy's thin shoulders and they started walking back the way she had come, trying their best to ignore the tall, black-clad form shadowing them.
"Joey, Paco is dead. Somebody shot him twice in the head last night," Sara said bluntly.
The teenager gasped. "Oh my God."
"Look, Joey, tests showed that the gun you gave me had been fired recently. Two rounds were missing."
Joey started to shake his head. "I swear to you, Amanda didn't shoot him. She grabbed the gun from me, but she fired one shot into a wall and the other shot in the air to scare Paco off. He ran away, I swear to God. I know I should have told you this before, but I didn't want Amanda to get into trouble," the boy said frantically.
"Joey, she's a junky. She's already in deep trouble, and now she's taken you down with her. Where is she? Did she come to school today or was she too high on the stuff she shook Paco down for?" Sara knew she was being harsh, but she was determined to protect her 16-year-old nephew from the possibly deadly consequences of his strung-out girlfriend's rash actions.
"How did you know she took his stash?" Joey asked, stricken eyes brimming with tears.
"She was looking to score when you confronted Paco and her, right?" Sara said, thinking fast. "A junky will do anything to get their fix, Joey, anything. Always remember that."
Now the boy's tears did fall. "I just want her to get help, Aunt Sara. She's only 15. She deserves another chance at a normal life. Maybe getting busted with the drugs and drug money will force her to get the help she needs," he said sadly.
Sara relented, and rubbed his back comfortingly. "Look, kiddo, since she's so young and this is most likely her first offense, she'll probably get probation and be remanded to a drug rehab facility. If she can kick her habit and stay clean, her record will be expunged by the time she heads to college."
"She lives in Stuyvesant Town, not that far from where she went to cop last night. But I want to be there when you talk to her," Joey told her.
"Joey, I don't think that's such a good idea. Besides, I'm on my bike and I don't have an extra helmet with me," Sara tried dissuading him with. "I want you to go straight home. I'll call you there later and let you know how it went."
The boy's jaw got a stubborn jut to it. "I don't want her to go through this alone. Stuytown is not that far from here. I can jump on the subway and be there in 15 minutes."
"She won't be alone. Her parents will be there. I don't want you to get any more involved in this than you already are, Joey."
But he shook his head. "Her parents both work until 5:00-5:30, and her older brother is away at college. It'll just be Amanda there for the next few hours. I'm coming, Aunt Sara," he insisted.
"Lady Sara, with your permission, I will escort Joseph to the young lady's house," Nottingham suddenly spoke up. "If you would like to go ahead on your motorcycle, we will meet you there."
Sara frowned as she noticed that he was several yards behind them, and she wondered how he could have possibly eavesdropped on their low- voiced conversation from that far away. She narrowed her fierce green eyes at the black-clad assassin suspiciously before turning to look at Joey again.
"Are you okay with that?" she asked him softly.
"Yeah." He wiped away the tears that streaked his face and managed a weak smile. "I'll probably be the safest kid in Manhattan."
"Okay then. I'll meet you on the southwest corner of First Avenue and 14th Street in 20 minutes," Sara said, swinging her leg over her Buell. She glanced at Ian Nottingham before putting on her helmet.
"What about your 'strict orders,' Nottingham? You're kind of pushing the envelop here, aren't ya?" she said disparagingly.
"We will not be parted long, my Lady," the assassin said softly, his warm gaze disturbingly direct, and the tiniest hint of a smile turned up the corner of his lips for a nanosecond.
Sara blinked, wondering if she had imagined that smile. "Uh, yeah. Right. See you in a few, Joey."
The engine of the Buell roared to life, and moments later she was headed across the southern tip of Manhattan and then uptown.
More to come. Keep that feedback coming!
Disclaimer: Don't own them. Just playing! Enjoy!
Chapter 6.
Every few minutes, Sara Pezzini glanced up at the clock on the wall of her and Danny Woo's office. She had long since given up trying to concentrate on the pile of paperwork in front of her.
It was almost 2:30. Danny had been gone for more than an hour, and if he didn't get back soon, Sara was going to be hard-pressed to meet Joey after school. She didn't want to risk having the discussion she needed to have with him at his home, where his parents or younger sister might intrude.
Miracle of miracles, the homicide department had remained quiet. Sara hoped that it would stay that way until she could get away and meet up with her nephew.
'Finally!' she thought as she spotted Danny in the hallway. But just before he could enter their office, Captain Dante called him into his office.
"Petzini, care to join us?" Dante asked sarcastically, when Sara didn't immediately get up from her desk.
Mentally rolling her eyes at his deliberate mangling of her last name, Sara slouched into his office.
She didn't like Bruno Dante, and she knew the feeling was mutual. Sara always got the feeling that Dante resented her for being a woman in what he considered to be a man's world. His attitude toward her bordered on open contempt, and Sara gave as good as she got, barely bothering to hide the fact that she thought the man was an idiot. On top of that, she strongly suspected he was on the take.
"What's up, Cap?" Danny asked.
"I want you and Petzini to lend a hand to Orlinsky and McCartey on the case they're working, seeing as we seem to be a little slow lately," Dante smirked, as if he thought his quip was the very height of cleverness.
This time, Sara really did roll her eyes. Unfortunately, her captain chose that moment to look at her.
"Am I boring you, Detective? Do you have something better to do?"
"No, sir," Sara said sullenly.
"The vic's name is Paco Gutierrez. Early this morning, his body was found dumped under the FDR Drive, near the Seaport. Two bullets to the head. ME says he'd been dead maybe 12 hours when he was found. He was a dealer, mostly smack, and his turf was a stretch along Avenue A, about four blocks south of Stuytown. Witnesses saw him working his corner last night. Business was brisk, but we got a witness says he saw two kids hassling Gutierrez right around the time he would have bought it. One of our squad cars responded to a report of shots fired in the vicinity around 8:00 p.m. last night, but the officers didn't see anybody when they got there. I want you and Petzini to canvas the nabe, asking if anybody has seen two kids fitting these descriptions." Captain Dante pushed a couple of sheets of paper across his desk toward them.
"Captain, mind if I ask why we're being put on this case when Danny and me still have a shitload of paperwork that needs processing, and Jake and me have four cases we're still supposed to be working?" Sara asked, trying to control her panic at how the trouble Joey Siri, Jr. was in seemed to be growing exponentially.
"Nice mouth, Petzini, and yeah, I do mind," Dante sneered at her. "Dismissed."
Danny followed Sara from their boss's office into their own, closing the door behind them.
"What a jerk!" Sara huffed, dropping down in her chair and rubbing her hands over her face tiredly.
After glancing over his shoulder to make sure Dante was otherwise occupied, Danny slid a manila interoffice envelop onto her desk before going around to his side of their double desk and sitting down.
"Your guy's named Angel Medina, and he's a scary dude, Pez. Suspicion of drug trafficking, murder, and assault with a deadly weapon. He did his first stretch at Rikers at age 15 for armed robbery. He then did a two-year stretch for aggravated assault. The vic was his own father, who he beat into a coma."
"Let me guess: Oedipus complex?" Sara muttered, opening the envelop and looking at the mugshot and rap sheet of the man she had "witnessed" kill Paco Gutierrez.
"My boy Mike in narcotics said Medina is the supplier and collector for the Alphabet City territory. Narcotics has been trying to get to him for a while, but he's highly suspicious and tends to shoot first and ask questions later. Look Sara, Mike's my friend and all, but he got kind of antsy when I gave him this guy's description. I get the strong feeling narcotics and the DEA might have Medina in their sights. Mike hinted that they might have finally got a guy close to him. And now Dante's assigned us to work this case with Orlinsky and Jake. I don't think that's a coincidence, do you?"
Suddenly, the Witchblade warmed on her wrist, and Sara hastily dropped her right hand into her lap as she saw that the stone was glowing brightly. A brief flash from the vision it had shown her that morning in the morgue was projected onto her mind's eye, like some kind of weird slideshow. In the first slide, she saw the laughing face of the man Angel Medina had only identified as Tommy. Next slide: Tommy's face as he listened to Paco's story. Next slide: His startled expression as Angel pulled a gun. Next slide: Over the shoulder of Angel Medina, his shocked face as Medina squeezed the trigger twice. This last picture faded to black as though the projector's lamp had burned out. End of slideshow.
"Everything's connected," Sara murmured, giving her head a little shake. "You wanna lay odds the inside guy is our witness?"
"That would be my guess, partner. Except how would he know that Paco got shaken down by Joey's girl and how would he have their descriptions?" Danny paused, and Sara could practically see the wheels turning in his head. "Unless, he was there when Paco reported back to Angel with the bad news about losing his stash and take. Being that he's a hotheaded psychopath, that would mean Angel is most likely our shooter."
Her partner's dark eyes met hers, his concern for her and her surrogate family clearly visible in them.
"Sara, I know Joey's a good kid. But it's going to look awful bad for him if the gun comes back with his and Paco's prints on it. If narcotics and the DEA have finally managed to get a guy next to Angel, I doubt they're gonna be willing to have him blow his cover just so he can testify that Joey and Amanda didn't off Paco. Plus, Angel is going to be looking to tie up loose ends, too. You better give Joey a heads up."
"Yeah, I intend to." She glanced at the clock. "Oh, shit! I gotta go if I'm gonna catch him at his school! Cover for me?" she said, grabbing her jacket and helmet.
"Always, partner," Danny said, pulling on his jacket, too. "I'll take an unmarked car and pretend to canvas the neighborhood where Paco dealt so Dante doesn't get suspicious." Then his eyes met hers speculatively. "Tell me one thing, Pez. How did you know about this Angel Medina guy before Paco's body was even identified?"
"Oh, um, Joey must have mentioned the name," she said lamely as they walked out together. Sara was relieved when Dante didn't notice that she was taking her helmet with her, which would have alerted him to the fact that the partners were going their separate ways.
"And where did he hear it from?"
"I'll ask him that when I see him. See you later." And she beat a hasty retreat.
*****
Several minutes later, Sara parked her Buell a couple of blocks from the pedestrian bridge that spanned West Street, on the other side of which was Stuyvesant High School. She started walking briskly in the direction of the school.
But she had only gone about a block when the Witchblade imparted a distressingly familiar warm swirl to her wrist, and Sara felt her whole body instantly tense up.
"My Lady, a word?"
"You wanna word, Nottingham?" she rounded on the tall, black-clad assassin furiously. "Here's one for you: Stay the hell away from me!"
She glared at him, daring him to point out that that had been more than one word.
Wisely, he remained silent. In fact, he just stood there, head down, eyes on the ground, with that damn pitiful look on his face.
"Oh, for God's sake, enough with the kicked-puppy already!"
'Wait a sec, did I just say that out loud?' Sara thought. 'Get a grip, Pezzini, you're losing it!'
Nottingham's expression changed to one of confusion, and his hazel eyes looked at her from under his long, thick black lashes.
"I have never abused a puppy, Sara, so I am not certain I know what -- "
"Look," she cut him off, "I'm kind of in a hurry, so just give me your latest cryptic tidbit and then go away."
"The Witchblade gave you a vision this morning," the assassin said, surprisingly without prevarication.
"Your owner tell you that?" Sara snipped, glancing over her shoulder toward the pedestrian bridge. A steady stream of kids were starting to cross it.
"No. I sensed it," Nottingham said softly, making rare direct eye contact with her. "We are connected, you and I, my Lady."
Sara frowned up at him. "'Connected,' hunh? What is that, stalker- speak for you'd like to nail me?"
She was fascinated to see a flush of red creep along the high cheekbones of the dark-haired man, whose eyes were once again firmly fixed on the ground. 'My God, I do believe I made him blush!' Sara thought.
"The vision showed you what really happened last night, did it not?" Nottingham persisted.
Sara made an impatient gesture. "Yeah, so? By the way, you're off the hook as far as that drug dealer Joey got the gun from. Somebody put two bullets in his brain last night, saving you the trouble. Now, as much fun as this has been, I've really got to go," she said, turning to leave.
But Nottingham's big, black-clad frame spun in front of her so fast, she was forced to stop in mid-step or run into him.
"I think the Witchblade's vision allowed you to see the face of his killer," he said, green-shot brown eyes briefly meeting her outraged green ones again.
"Yeah, up close and personal. Now back off, Nottingham, I've got to go and talk to my nephew!" Sara growled, putting her hand on her gun.
"There is grave danger across that bridge, my Lady. Perhaps I should accompany you," Kenneth Irons' bodyguard said, spinning gracefully to her side.
Sara didn't move. "I assume you're speaking metaphorically, Nottingham, because after you practically flattened him this morning, Joey lays eyes on you and takes off running the other way."
"Perhaps if I offer him an apology for my hasty behavior in the alley this morning, I can make amends," the exceedingly strange man said thoughtfully.
This time it was Sara who spun in front of Ian. "Listen here, Mr. Cloak-and-Dagger," she said, shaking an angry finger in his startled face, "you stay the hell away from my nephew! He's probably gonna wake up screaming tonight because of you!"
"I am under strict orders to stay close to you, Lady Sara," Nottingham said quietly, assuming his weird parade rest stance, head bowed, hands clasped behind his back. "So, if you are going to converse with your nephew, I will, of a necessity, be close by. I am sorry this fact is upsetting to you."
"Ohhh, 'strict orders,'" Sara mocked, then winced when the kicked- puppy made another appearance. She heaved a sigh. "Oh, all right. Just hurry up and do your ninja tough guy disappearing act, and then stay out of sight. Joey's had enough trauma today."
"Hey, Aunt Sara."
Sara closed her eyes tight as she heard a familiar voice right behind her. Blindly, she raised a clenched fist and lightly bounced it off the black-clad wall that was Nottingham's chest. 'Still there, of course,' she thought resignedly, failing to notice the assassin's swiftly indrawn breath at the physical contact. 'And this nightmare day from hell just keeps getting worse.'
She turned around rigidly, pasting a smile on her face. "Hey, Joey. I was just on my way to see you. Funny, how you found me first, hunh?"
"Yeah." Joey's eyes, only slightly freaked and wide, went beyond her. "Hey, Mr. Nottingham."
"Hello, young Joseph. I think I owe you an apology for acting a bit hastily in the alley next to the 11th Precinct this morning," her psycho stalker said in his deep, quiet voice.
"That's okay, I know you were just looking out for my Aunt Sara," Joey stunned Sara by replying. "It must of looked pretty bad, me putting that you-know-what in my knapsack and then waiting for her to come outside."
"I am glad that you understand and that I had this opportunity to apologize," Nottingham said.
A bunch of high school kids walked by their tense little group, throwing them curious looks.
"Okay! Right. Now that that's settled, walk me back to my bike, Joey. We need to talk." Sara hooked an arm around the boy's thin shoulders and they started walking back the way she had come, trying their best to ignore the tall, black-clad form shadowing them.
"Joey, Paco is dead. Somebody shot him twice in the head last night," Sara said bluntly.
The teenager gasped. "Oh my God."
"Look, Joey, tests showed that the gun you gave me had been fired recently. Two rounds were missing."
Joey started to shake his head. "I swear to you, Amanda didn't shoot him. She grabbed the gun from me, but she fired one shot into a wall and the other shot in the air to scare Paco off. He ran away, I swear to God. I know I should have told you this before, but I didn't want Amanda to get into trouble," the boy said frantically.
"Joey, she's a junky. She's already in deep trouble, and now she's taken you down with her. Where is she? Did she come to school today or was she too high on the stuff she shook Paco down for?" Sara knew she was being harsh, but she was determined to protect her 16-year-old nephew from the possibly deadly consequences of his strung-out girlfriend's rash actions.
"How did you know she took his stash?" Joey asked, stricken eyes brimming with tears.
"She was looking to score when you confronted Paco and her, right?" Sara said, thinking fast. "A junky will do anything to get their fix, Joey, anything. Always remember that."
Now the boy's tears did fall. "I just want her to get help, Aunt Sara. She's only 15. She deserves another chance at a normal life. Maybe getting busted with the drugs and drug money will force her to get the help she needs," he said sadly.
Sara relented, and rubbed his back comfortingly. "Look, kiddo, since she's so young and this is most likely her first offense, she'll probably get probation and be remanded to a drug rehab facility. If she can kick her habit and stay clean, her record will be expunged by the time she heads to college."
"She lives in Stuyvesant Town, not that far from where she went to cop last night. But I want to be there when you talk to her," Joey told her.
"Joey, I don't think that's such a good idea. Besides, I'm on my bike and I don't have an extra helmet with me," Sara tried dissuading him with. "I want you to go straight home. I'll call you there later and let you know how it went."
The boy's jaw got a stubborn jut to it. "I don't want her to go through this alone. Stuytown is not that far from here. I can jump on the subway and be there in 15 minutes."
"She won't be alone. Her parents will be there. I don't want you to get any more involved in this than you already are, Joey."
But he shook his head. "Her parents both work until 5:00-5:30, and her older brother is away at college. It'll just be Amanda there for the next few hours. I'm coming, Aunt Sara," he insisted.
"Lady Sara, with your permission, I will escort Joseph to the young lady's house," Nottingham suddenly spoke up. "If you would like to go ahead on your motorcycle, we will meet you there."
Sara frowned as she noticed that he was several yards behind them, and she wondered how he could have possibly eavesdropped on their low- voiced conversation from that far away. She narrowed her fierce green eyes at the black-clad assassin suspiciously before turning to look at Joey again.
"Are you okay with that?" she asked him softly.
"Yeah." He wiped away the tears that streaked his face and managed a weak smile. "I'll probably be the safest kid in Manhattan."
"Okay then. I'll meet you on the southwest corner of First Avenue and 14th Street in 20 minutes," Sara said, swinging her leg over her Buell. She glanced at Ian Nottingham before putting on her helmet.
"What about your 'strict orders,' Nottingham? You're kind of pushing the envelop here, aren't ya?" she said disparagingly.
"We will not be parted long, my Lady," the assassin said softly, his warm gaze disturbingly direct, and the tiniest hint of a smile turned up the corner of his lips for a nanosecond.
Sara blinked, wondering if she had imagined that smile. "Uh, yeah. Right. See you in a few, Joey."
The engine of the Buell roared to life, and moments later she was headed across the southern tip of Manhattan and then uptown.
More to come. Keep that feedback coming!