Mitch

She descends the stairs as if the devil is behind her…

He is…

She risks a look up; the briefest of glances. She can’t see him, but the clang of pursuit echoes above her.

And she runs…

Down two stories, three. Almost to ground level… and there… As she hits tarmac… a door close by… An emergency exit swings open, a body erupting out of it…

Frank.

He canons into her, grabbing her by the waist, swinging her around.

“Mitch…”

“Don’t stop.” She jerks a head up to where Klempner rattles down the steps after her. “Where’s your car?”

“Basement, but the keys…”

“Got them. Move.”

The pair swerve, u-turning back into the stairwell, barrelling downwards. From above, the sound of a slamming door; echoing boots on concrete

They burst into the parking lot.

“Where?” She peers into the low dark space.

“There.” He points, still running, snatching at her wrist, towing her along. From behind another crash from a swinging door. From off-side, Bech appears with Malory, both with guns in their hands.

The pair dash from one grey concrete pillar to another; stooping, running at a crouch, dodging between corridors of vehicles; vans, station wagons, saloons… Then, a sports car; shiny, bright red and low…

A crack behind her. A whistle…

Mitch shrieks and drops as the bullet skids over the door of the two-seater, taking paintwork with it…

Klempner’s voice, reverberating through the low space. “Put the fucking gun down. Hurt her and I’ll gut you.”

… but she keeps moving…

Frank is ahead of her. For a moment he skids, foot sliding over a patch of oil. Slipping, he falls but catches himself on the handle of the nearest door, then, “There… Keys!”

She tosses them across and twisting, he catches them one-handedly, pointing ahead to his own 4x4. Lights flash orange, beeping and the crunch of disengaging locks resound through the low-ceilinged space.

She tumbles into the passenger seat.

“Stay down.” Frank engages and with the screech of tortured rubber, the car careens down the ranks of vehicles.

cuts across, sprinting for the exit. Silhouetted against the daylight he stands, legs akimbo, arms outspread… “Mitch,

the car screams down the aisle, up the ramp, adding to the black-burned stripes on the pitted concrete. Slamming his fist onto the horn, it shrieks defiance as the car rockets to the exit.

them, squinting into the sunshine but

behind. “We can’t let them go.

clutching his gut. Klempner lashes out with a foot, planting his boot in Bech’s ribs. “Use a gun near her again and it will be the last thing you do. Understand me? Hurt her and I’ll

on himself, Bech hisses through his teeth, winded; no words, but he

time it’ll be more than my boot

*****

Charlotte

buzzes. “Francis, it’s Kirstie. I’m trying to

but I interrupt her. “Yes,

have someone down here for you. A Mr Maurio Vincenzo. He says he’s

Master cocks a

who handled

on earth

what

that he needs to speak with you. Should I send him

“Yes, of course.”

frowning, “You don’t have anything

I could. And if there was anything, I’m sure Chad would have mentioned

in his cheeks. “Would you

to sit in

like to,

suit and a

“That’s right.”

forward, hand outstretched. “Maurio Vincenzo. You dealt with my

you. I’m a bit baffled though. Surely everything

matter entirely. Although it was your estranged husband who informed us where we could find you. Is there somewhere we can speak

The conference room is free all morning.” She gestures across. “If you’ll go through, Mr

follows us in, to the sidelong

“It’s fine,” I say.

clicking open his briefcase, “I mean no offence, but you and I have not met before and I must establish your identity. I understand you are currently known as ‘Charlotte Summerford’, but my father dealt with one ‘Jennifer Conners’.

“That’s right.”

can

to. But why should I need

could you please give me your signature

lawyer compares it with some paper from his case, then looks up again, smiling, holding up the paper. “Your original petition for divorce,” he comments. “And that’s fine, Mrs Summerford. Now…” He takes out another document. “As to why I am here. As I mentioned, my firm was contacted recently by your ex-husband, Charles Bennett, to inform us that

“Right… So?”

“So, I hold here the will deposited with my firm by one Levi

and my Master

over the rim of his spectacles at me…” Your old school-teacher I understand…” He hesitates. “As you probably know,

tightens. “Yes,

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255