A Fine Mess

Chapter 31

The clock in the kitchen chimed nine and a tiny rooster emerged from a small door, cock-a-doodle-dooing its way across to another small door on the opposite side of the clock. Jarlayne watched its progress, as she always did, then folded up her paper and rinsed her coffee cup under the tap. She strolled casually up the stairs to her bedroom at the rear of the second floor and selected her clothes for the day, setting them on the ornate armchair beside her bed. She gave herself an appraising glance in the vanity mirror then sat at the dressing table, clad only in underwear and pantyhose, and brushed out her long hair, admiring the bounce as she finished each stroke.

She considered Gil's request to attend her meeting and wondered just how advisable that might be, after all, Tubbs wasn't confessing to anything, her intuition told her he was arranging for cover. When the knock came at the door, she dropped the brush and pulled a flimsy robe over her near naked body and hurried down stairs.

It was the package as promised and Jarlayne signed the receipt for an obviously moon-struck courier with bad acne and a beer company baseball hat mounted backwards on his shaven head. A huge smile sent him stumbling awkwardly down her front steps and bumping heavily into the husky looking man on his way up. She closed the door and frowned, leaning against it. The man had locked eyes with her for a second and she had felt a strange feeling of discomfort. Turning, she slipped the deadbolt home and stepped back with a gasp as the handle turned violently, rattling the door.

"Hello?" A gruff voice called. "Are you open for business?" The handle rattled again.

"Not for another hour," she called back as she hurried to her desk phone. "You'll have to come back." Jarlayne punched in Gil's number and shook a clenched fist, urging him to answer.

"Petchorak and Associates."

"Deborah, I need to speak to Gil right away, it's an emergency."

Gil came on the line immediately. An emergency call from Jarlayne demanded instant attention; she was not one for frivolous reactions. "Jar, what's wrong?"

"There's a man threatening to break down my front door. I think he was waiting for the courier to arrive with that package." She let out a small gasp. "He's banging the door with his shoulder."

"Get out of there now, Jar. Hurry. I'm on my way."

Jarlayne hung up, grabbed the package and scurried back upstairs, shedding the robe and grabbing her clothes from the chair by her bed. Quickly she pulled on the skirt and blouse, stepped into her shoes then ran to the window in her en suite washroom. She closed and locked the door then pushed the window open and clambered up onto the edge of the sink. Her short skirt restricted her ability to get her leg over the sill and as she took a moment to hoist it above her waist, she heard the front door splinter.

Jarlayne threw a long, exposed leg over the sill and wriggled through the window onto the tiny fire escape, shredding her favourite pair of Hanes. Clutching the package, she slipped off her heels and began a shaky descent on the rickety stairs, climbing onto the rusting ladder and riding it to the ground with a bone-jarring thud. Tillman battered open the washroom door and stuck his head out the window, peering over the edge of the sill and watching his quarry hop down the alley, pulling on her shoes as she went.

Gil cut dangerously through traffic, running amber lights and taking corners without slowing for pedestrians. There would be angry debates when his insurance needed renewal judging from the roars and curses trailing in his wake. When he finally reached the street Jarlayne's office was on he jammed the pedal down and rocketed down the road suddenly catching sight of her across the street trying to run in her heels and tight skirt in the opposite direction. He braked hard and cut the wheel sharply, swinging the rear end of the car around in a squeal of stressed rubber ala Dukes of Hazard.

Jarlayne stopped and looked at the source of the noise and realizing it was Gil, darted out into the road waving her arm. Tillman reached the street and was heading for his own car when he heard the car screech around in a cloud of smoke and weave precariously toward the curb. He saw the woman flag it down and scramble aboard when it stopped. More problems, he thought, heading back to his car. The courier was still standing beside his bicycle having watched the large man shoulder his way through the woman's door and all the startling actions that followed.

"Man, that was some scene! She your girlfriend?" He asked, with an admiring grin on his face as Tillman drew alongside.

"Where was that package from?" He asked, ignoring the question.

"That stuff is confiden-" Tillman's hand shot out and grabbed the courier's hat, spun the brim around and yanked it down until it was hooked under his nose then he pulled the boys face down onto the front wheel of the bike and gave it a vicious spin.

"Where was it from?"

Tillman climbed into his car, satisfied that the package came from Tubbs and tossing a final brief glance at the bloodied, sobbing courier, he started his car and drove off in the same direction as his quarry. He would follow them and decide what to do when they stopped.

"Are you okay?" Gil checked the mirror and slowed to a more respectable speed.

"Am now. That was scary. He smashed the door right off my house. I climbed out the bathroom window and down the fire escape. He must have wrecked the bathroom door too." She ran a gentle hand down her leg, swearing softly at the ruin of her hose and a small scratch from the ride on the ladder. "Look at this. Damn, these cost me fifteen bucks a pop!"

Gil automatically looked, jerking his eyes back to the road when he realized she had pulled her skirt up over her thigh. "My sympathies. We'll go my office and call the police. You can't leave your place open and unprotected." He gulped, realizing her blouse was also only partially buttoned. "So, you still have the package?"

"Sure do, and I have the one the courier brought too." She gave him a sly glance and laughed when his ears coloured.

"Jarlayne, one day you'll hold a normal conversation without all the sexual innuendo and all your friends will drop dead."

"Good grief! That's what I'm trying to avoid!"

He smiled, checking the mirror and made a sharp left turn, accelerating up the long grade toward his office.

Tillman stayed well back, following them up the hill and pulling to the curb when they turned into the small parking lot beside the three-storey office block. His intuition had been correct that they would head for the law office to regroup and make their plans. After they went inside, he pulled up opposite the doors and with his small monocular scope, read the name of Petchorak and Associates on the brass plate mounted on the brick face of the building beside the entry, confirming his theory. Ahhh, Myles, you are not going to be a happy camper. He put the car in gear and drove away, pondering the best way to solve this new dilemma.

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I made a cut and paste error. Sorry you got shortchanged