"I told you to stay in the fucking car!" he said furiously.
She looked at him, shocked as much by the tone of his voice as by the language, and then at the girl on the floor. For the first time she saw there was a pool of blood.
"What happened?" she asked, her voice weak.
"Will you please go get in the goddamned car?" Matt asked.
"Oh, myGod!" Amanda wailed. "That'sPenny!"
"You know her?"
"Penny Detweiler," Amanda said. "You must know her. She's one of the bridesmaids."
Matt looked at the girl on the floor. Itwas Penelope Detweiler, Precious Penny
to Matt, to her intense annoyance, because that's what her father had once called her in Matt's hearing.
Why didn't I recognize her? I've known her all of my life!
"I'll be damned," he said softly.
"Matt, whathappened to her?"
"She's been shot," Matt Payne said, and looked at Amanda.
You don't expect to find people you know, especially people like Precious Penny, lying in a pool of blood after somebody's shot them in a garage. Things like that aren't supposed to happen to people like Precious Penny.
He found his voice: "Now, for chrissake, will you go get in the goddamned car!" he ordered furiously.
Amanda looked at him with confusion and hurt in her eyes.
"This just happened," he explained more kindly. "Whoever did it may still be up here."
"Matt, let's get out of here. Let's go find a cop."
"I am a cop, Amanda," Matt Payne said. "Now, for the last fucking time, will you go get in the car? Stay there until I come for you. Lock the doors."
He stooped, bending one knee, and when he stood erect again, there was a snub-nosed revolver in his hand. Amanda ran back to the silver Porsche and locked the doors. When she looked for Matt, she couldn't see him at first, but then she did, and he was holding his gun at the ready, slowly making his way between the parked cars.
I don't believe this is happening. I don't believe Penny Detweiler is lying out there bleeding to death, and I don't believe that Matt Payne is out there with a gun in his hand, a cop looking for whoever shot Penny.
Oh, my God. What if he gets killed?
FOUR
With difficulty, for there is not much room in the passenger compartment of a Porsche 911 Carrera, Amanda Spencer crawled over from the passenger seat to the driver's and turned the ignition key.
There was a scream of tortured starter gears, for the engine was still running. She threw the gearshift lever into reverse, spun the wheels, and turned around, then drove as fast as she dared down the ramps of the parking garage to street level.
She slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the car and ran to the attendant's window.
"Call the police!" she said. "Call the police and get an ambulance."
"Hey, lady, what's going on?"
"Get on that phone and call the police and get an ambulance," Amanda ordered firmly. "Tell them there's been a shooting."
****