“I don’t want to get you involved, Rick.”
“Then why did you come here?”
She didn’t have an answer for that.
He poured a cup of coffee for her, pressed it into her hands, and waited for her to start.
“I got this job, right? It’s a good job, good pay. But sometimes . . . well. I make deliveries. I’m not supposed to ask what’s in the packages, I just go where they tell me to go and I don’t ask any questions.”
“You told me you got a job in a typing pool.”
“What was I supposed to do, tell you the truth?”
“No, you’re right. It wasn’t any of my business. Go on.”
“There’s a garage out east on Champa—”
“Rough neighborhood.”
“I’ve never had any trouble. Usually, I just walk in, set the bag on the shelf, and walk right back out. Today I heard gunshots. I turned around and there’s Blake, he’d just shot Mikey—the guy from the garage who picks up the drops—and two other guys with him. He’s holding this gun, it’s still smoking. He shot them. I didn’t know what else to do; there’s a back door, so I ran for it, and he saw me, I know he saw me—”
He crouched beside her, took the coffee cup away, and pressed her hands together; they were icy. He didn’t have much of his own heat to help warm her with.
“Now he wants to tie off the loose ends,” Rick said.
“Of all the stupid timing; if I’d been five minutes earlier I’d have been fine, I wouldn’t have seen anything.”
Rick might argue that—she’d still be working as a runner for some kind of crime syndicate.
“Have you thought about going to the police? They could probably protect you. If they can lock Blake up, you won’t have anything to worry about.”
“You think it really works like that? I can’t go to the cops. They’d arrest me just as fast as they’d arrest him.”
“So leave town,” Rick said.
“And go where? Do what? With what money?”
“I can give you money,” Rick said.
“On a bartender’s salary? That’ll get me to where, Colorado Springs? No, Rick, I’m not going to ask you for money.”
He ducked to hide a smile. Poor kid, thinking she was the only one with big secrets. “But you’ll ask me for a place to hide.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just I didn’t know where to go, I don’t have any other friends here. And now I’ve dragged you into it and if Blake finds out he’ll go after you, too.”
“Helen, don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.” He squeezed her hands, trying to impart some calm. She didn’t have any other friends here—that he believed.
“You probably hate me now.”
He shrugged. “Not much point to that.”
She tilted her head, a gesture of curiosity. “You’re different, you know that?”
“Yeah. I do. Look, I know a place where Blake absolutely won’t find you. You can stay there for a couple of days. Maybe this’ll blow over. Maybe they’ll catch Blake. In the meantime, you can make plans. How does that sound?”
“Thanks, Rick. Thanks.”
“It’s no trouble at all.”