Mr. WANTED's Girl

Chapter 2 - An Inspector Calls

(Lori's narrative)

I wore my black suit, and as I was shoving various other items into my leather suitcase, a strange feeling of excitement and fear ran through my veins.

  Jack had killed a man. Jack was a murder. Jack would be a 'wanted' man. And I would be his accomplice.

  I liked that last statement best.

  I drew out my small revolver. It might come in handy. I smiled a little to myself. Jack had taught me to be a crack-shot.

  A loud knocking made me jump. . It was as urgent as before, only more official sounding.

  "Open up! Police!"

  My heart stood still.

  Suddenly, my bedroom door was flung open and Jack rushed in, dragging a big hamper behind him.

  "Lori, get in the car," he said quietly, handing me the wicker box. I went over and opened the window, revealing the ugly metal fire escape that ran down the side of my apartment building.

  After pushing out my suitcase and hamper, I then climbed out gingerly. My apartment was nine floors up, and the view down onto the city was spectacular. That is, if you like heights.

  Shuddering, I gathered up my cargo and I started to make my way carefully down the endless, creaking metal steps.

(Sgt. Benjamin's narrative)

  "Miss Rappe, this is the police!" I hammered on the door, and then glanced over to Detective Hamilton. "Looks like she's not going to cooperate sir," I said.

  "Well, she's definitely in," the night watchman confirmed.

  "Let's see if she'll hear this," the detective, a small smile playing on his lips. "Miss Rappe, if you don't let us in, we'll have to make a forced entry!" he called.

  Hamilton was in his element. That was plain to anyone.

  There was a minute of tense silence.

  Hamilton gave a quick nod to the watchman who drew out his set of duplicate keys.

  Just as he was putting the small silver latch key into it's lock, a sharp volley of gunshots from inside the room flooded me with terror.

  The watchman gave a small cry, and slumped heavily onto the ground. I saw the detective was already on his stomach, and was firing back into the room with his service pistol.

  "Get down!"

  I was just starting to just that when suddenly, I felt a sharp, agonizing stab of pain.

  "Aghhhh!" I cried, and fell down.     

(Lori's narrative)

I was almost the last step of the fire escape when I heard the first gunshot.

  An awful sick feeling gurgled in the pit of my stomach. But I had to carry on. Almost running, I hurled myself at my small black Model-A Ford, and shoved the hamper and suitcase into the trunk. I then went and sat anxiously in the driver's seat.

  Those few minutes that I waited were the worst few in my life.

  I looked up at the building. There was a hell of a lot of shooting going on up there.

  Out of the blue, to my infinite relief, I saw Jack's wiry figure speeding down the fire escape. Before I knew it, he was sitting in the passenger seat next to me.

  "Drive! Go!"

  I put my foot down on the accelerator and the little car shot forward. I was a reckless driver at the best of times, but that night I drove like I had the devil on my heels.

  After a few minutes, I slowed down.

  "It's Ok, they're not following us," I said, my eyes fixed on the rear-view mirror.

  Jack glanced behind us.

  "I think you're right. We're Ok."

  I could see him visibly relax.

  My attention was drawn back to the road when we reached a large crossroad.

  "Left?"

  Jack DiCote nodded.

So this is the latest chapter! My thanks to all the kind people who have written nice comments and have voted! Belive me, if it wasn't for them, you might not be reading this now! So, who do you prefer? Jack or Lori?