As clear as the waters of Lake Superior, Blair could see himself standing next to Cynthia. He was against the outside wall of the pizza parlor. “Quick!” she said. “Duck down behind those bags! Hurry!”
Blair stumbled past a pile of pizza boxes and stooped down. Not knowing what was going on made him more afraid than Cynthia’s erratic behavior.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” a man said from the other side of the boxes. “Where is it?”
Blair got up on one knee and peeked around the garbage can in front of him.
“Go to hell!” Cynthia told Latrice.
“I know you two have had your heads together. You have one of two choices, lady: tell me where he is, or hand over the rock.”
“Kiss my ass!” Cynthia said, and Latrice’s face folded into a sour discontentment.
Quentin swung an object and hit Cynthia on the side of the head with it. She moaned, falling to the side. “Just give it to me, and we’ll be square. I’ll leave him alone.”
She didn’t answer; maybe she couldn’t, but Latrice didn’t seem convinced.
“You’d better let me have it, or I’ll kill you!” he said. “I swear I will!”
Cynthia rolled over onto her back, still too dazed to stand up right away. “I’m not giving you anything,” she said, loud and clear enough to warrant two more whacks from the sharp end of the pick. “Go to hell!” she said again as blood sputtered from her mouth. She always had been a stubborn woman.
**********
Blair’s mind came racing back to the present when he realized that someone had opened Kevin Massey’s front door and turned on the lights in the living room. Stepping inside the closet, Blair closed the door enough to hide himself. It wasn’t long before he saw Cal Maxwell pass from the living room and then into the kitchen.