The Trade. Shirley Palmer

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СКАЧАТЬ he could go around to the passenger door, the girl slammed it open and was out of the garage, across the road, narrowly missing a passing car.

      Shouting at Barney to stay, Matt tore after her. He dragged her off the bank, scooped her against his chest, started back across the street. A few houses away the car had slowed almost to a stop. He put his mouth to the girl’s ear, the words soothing and simple. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

      Matt crossed the road without looking in the direction of the car, the picture, he hoped, of a young father and his playful teenager, their ecstatic Labrador jumping around them in greeting. He ran along the deck by the side of the house, got the kitchen door open, kicked it closed behind him, and set the girl on her feet.

      She backed away, dark hair tangled with leaves and twigs hanging in her eyes, lips bared in a snarl. Dressed as she was in flimsy silk she had to be freezing.

      Matt held his hands out to the side. “It’s okay, you’re safe here. I’m not going to hurt you. A doctor is coming, you understand, a doctor?” Keeping his distance, he went to the hall closet, pulled out a blanket, held it out to her. “Put this around you.”

      She kept her eyes on him without moving and he tossed the blanket on the back of the sofa that separated the living room from the kitchen. He turned the thermostat up to eighty, then knelt and touched a match to the fire. The gas lighter flared, caught the kindling, flames curled around the logs. He went back into the kitchen, filled the kettle, put it on to boil, keeping up a running commentary to reassure her.

      “It will be warmer in here soon. Do you like peppermint tea?” He was completely out of his depth.

      He picked up the telephone on the kitchen counter, tapped out Ginn’s number. His heart hammered in his chest while he waited, then her voice, her real voice, was in his ear.

      His mouth was suddenly dry. “Ginn, it’s me.”

      “Matt, I am going to hang up. Goodbye.”

      “No, don’t. Ginn, listen. Please. I need help—”

      “Then call your brother, or your father in Palm Springs, or Bobby. Why call me?”

      Because I love you. “Because you’re a lawyer, and you’re the only one who can help.”

      “Goodbye, Matt.”

      Speaking quickly to hold her, he said, “I found some kids today, holed up in a canyon.”

      “What?”

      “Kids on their own, fourteen, fifteen, suffering from exposure and covered in poison oak. Illegals, I think. A young boy, five girls, one of them a black kid about ten.” He spoke rapidly, trying to convince her before she hung up. “I’ve got one of the girls here now, and she won’t speak. I’ve got to go back to get the others—”

      “Are you crazy? Call the authorities. Call Bobby Eckhart. Do it now, before you get any deeper. Goodbye.”

      “I can’t, Ginn. They’re illegals, I promised I wouldn’t call the police—” He was speaking to a dial tone.

      The kettle was whistling. He rummaged around in the cupboard, found a package of peppermint teabags, dumped a couple in a mug. He covered them with water, spooned in sugar. The girl had not moved. Mug in hand, he started to walk toward her. “Now you sit down and drink this, you’ll feel better—”

      She exploded into action, made an end run around him, grabbed a knife from the wooden block on the counter. She backed into the far corner of the living room, wedged herself between the built-in bookcases and the wall. She held the long narrow bladed paring knife in front of her with both hands. It looked as dangerous as a shiv.

      “Hey, hey, wait a minute,” Matt said. He put the mug on the end table, and moved toward her. “You don’t need that.” Slowly, he held his hand out for the knife. “It’s very sharp. Come on, give it to me.”

      She slashed at him, barely missing his fingers, and he jumped back. He could see the whites of her eyes surrounding the dark iris. She looked like a trapped animal, in shock, ready to kill, ready to die.

      Footsteps pounded along the walkway and Matt backed through to the kitchen and opened the door.

      “Man, am I glad you’re here.”

      “So, what’s up?” Phil Halliburton took off his outer coat, hung it on the coat stand by the door. Early forties, he was tall and slender, well barbered dark hair, the kind of guy who spent time and effort cultivating a polished image. He looked more like a celebrity lawyer than a doctor. He rubbed Barney’s ears while trying to keep the Lab away from his dark slacks. “So what’s the big mystery?”

      “There she is,” Matt said.

      Halliburton looked at the girl pressed into the angle between bookshelves and wall, then back at Matt. He looked in shock. “Good God, Matt. What’s going on?”

      “I don’t know. I came across a bunch of kids in Encinal. This one was lying on the ground, looking half-dead, so I brought her home and called you.”

      “You what? A bunch of kids? What kids?”

      “I don’t know, Phil. Just kids, obviously illegals. It was going to rain, and she looked so sick. I couldn’t leave her.”

      “You kidnapped her?”

      “No, I didn’t kidnap her. What are you talking about?”

      “What else would you call it? Doesn’t look as if she came willingly. What’s that you’ve given her?”

      “Peppermint tea, with a lot of sugar. I tried to hand it to her and she grabbed the knife.”

      “Matt, you should have left her there, whoever she is, and called the authorities.”

      “Yes, well, maybe, but it didn’t seem the thing to do at the time.”

      Halliburton crossed the living room, but stopped when the girl jabbed the knife at him. “What’s her name?”

      “I don’t know. She hasn’t said anything.” Then Matt remembered the girl Kanita patting her mouth and shaking her head, and he realized why Hasan was willing to let her leave.

      “I don’t think she can speak.”

      “Can she hear?”

      “Yes, I’m pretty sure she can.”

      Phil looked from the girl to Matt. “Oh, man, you’ve got yourself into one hell of a mess here. Well, if I can get the knife away from her, I can give her a shot, calm her down. Then we can figure out where to go from there.” Halliburton took another step toward her. The girl pressed her back deeper into the corner and kept the knife pointed toward him. “Come on, honey, put down the knife,” he said firmly. He moved closer.

      Her eyes locked on his, the girl pressed the point of the blade into the soft place beneath her own chin.

      “Back off, Phil,” Matt said. “She’s going to hurt herself.”

      Halliburton ignored him. “Now, you’re СКАЧАТЬ