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31
Mia
Headlights hit her full in the face, blinding her, and Mia stumbled back, tripped on the curb. She went down and rolled behind two garbage cans as the sedan jumped the curb and plowed into them. The cans bounced over her, the lids went flying, sending bags of garbage raining down. She covered her head with her arms, kept scrambling backward on her elbows. She heard the car engine revving, then the blessed sound of a man’s shout. He was running toward her, yelling, waving his arms at the car.
It seemed like forever the sedan didn’t move, until the driver slammed into reverse, dragging one of the toppled garbage cans with him, and roared away up the empty street. The man was panting when he came down on his knees beside her. “Are you okay?”
It was one of the two men she’d seen on the corner. Mia caught her breath, forced herself to breathe deeply until she stopped shaking. But she couldn’t stop her heart kettle-drumming or the nausea rising in her throat. She swallowed convulsively. She wouldn’t vomit, she wouldn’t. Okay, better. “Thanks for chasing him off.” How could that be her voice, all calm and together? When he helped her sit up, she kept hold of his arm. “I’m glad those garbage cans were full, and the bags didn’t burst open. If they’d burst, can you imagine what could have come flying out? And on me? This is the wool coat my parents gave me for Christmas.” She sucked in a breath. “Sorry, I’m babbling. If you hadn’t been nearby I-I don’t know what would have happened. Really, thank you.”
Mia saw her rescuer’s face for the first time under a streetlight. He was dressed head to foot in leather with a heavy black leather coat, black leather gloves, and chunky black boots. He didn’t even look to be voting age yet. He stared down the street, shook his head. “You’re welcome. The moron was drunk, or maybe high on something, hallucinating, maybe. I’ve seen it before. He saw you, thought you were the devil or something. Do you want me to call an ambulance? 911?”
Mia did a mental check of her body parts, moved her arms, her legs. “No, I’m okay. You really think he didn’t just lose control?”
“Can’t say, but I doubt it. There’s nearly a full moon, and that’s when the wackos come out of their caves. Good thing your coat’s so heavy, or you’d be all scratched up, or worse. My name’s Lex—my friends call me Lex Luthor, you know, like Superman’s nemesis.”
“Sure, I always rooted for Lex as a kid. Didn’t seem fair Superman had all those powers.” She blinked. Where had that come from? She shut up. Her brain was tripping with adrenaline.
Lex helped her stand up. Thankfully, her legs held her. “Thank you,” she said again and shook his gloved hand. “I’m Mia Briscoe. I don’t suppose you saw his plates, or at least the make? Those headlights pretty much blinded me.”
“Not really. I was more concerned about whether you were all right.”
“Not much point in calling the police, then, I guess. By the time they get here, he could be well on his way into New Jersey. I know I wouldn’t hang around. Where’s your motorcycle?”
“Motorcycle? You won’t catch me on one of those death traps, not in the city. I was just walking back to my apartment, met up with a friend. Oh, I get you, you mean all this hard-rock leather? I wear it for Roz, my girlfriend, she really gets off on black leather. The more I wear, the luckier I get. I don’t get hassled as much in bars, either. You headed to the subway?”
At her nod, he said, “I’ll walk with you, might as well make sure no more morons are out in the neighborhood. You sure you’re okay?”
No, I want to throw up.But she made herself nod again. Mia took another step, weaved, stopped. “Lex, I think I’d better call an Uber. I don’t think I’ll take a chance with the subway, I might fall on the tracks.” She paused a moment, shook her head. “I’ve never thought of myself as a weak-kneed wuss before. It’s humiliating.”
Lex waved away her words. “Forget it, you’re entitled. I’ll stay with you until they come. It’ll all make a great story for Roz. Hey, I’m glad those garbage bags didn’t burst open too.” He patted her shoulder, and they sat side by side on the curb to wait for the Uber.
When a gray Lexus pulled up beside them six minutes later, Mia gave Lex her card. “If you’re interested in an internship or maybe a job at the Guardian, give me a call.”
Lex stared at the card a moment, gave her a big smile. “Roz’ll like this, too.”
Mia confirmed her address with the Uber driver and settled in, leaned her head back against the seat, and closed her eyes. Low-level nausea still hovered, too close. She took deep, even breaths and the nausea eased enough for her to text Travis. Nearly hit by a drunk driver. Feeling shaky, but everything’s fine. Don’t worry, Talk tomorrow?
Thirty-five minutes later, Mia stood naked in front of her bathroom mirror, staring at bright purple bruises on her arms, her shoulders, her chest. She looked over her shoulder, saw her back looked like a multicolor flag and the bruise on her butt something like Australia. If she hadn’t been wearing her thick coat, what would she look like now? Would she even have gotten up? She took three aspirin, looked in the mirror again at the pale face staring back at her. She looked like oatmeal. It was a drunk idiot or a druggie. Wrong place wrong time. It’s New York, get over it. It’s no big deal since I’m not dead.
She pulled a warm flannel nightgown over her head and eased her aching body into bed, pulled the covers to her chin. No more nausea, thank goodness. Mia lay there not moving, waiting for the aspirin to kick in, the only light her bedside lamp. She couldn’t stop reliving the shock of the headlights, tripping over the curb, those wonderful garbage cans, pushing desperately backward to get away from the car. It was when she pictured how the car had come at her that it hit her—What if Lex was wrong? What if the driver wasn’t crazy drunk or drugged out? What if he was trying to hit her on purpose?
Oh, shut up. Lex was right. Full moon, too much booze or drugs.But once she thought it, she couldn’t let it go. Had Alex Harrington tried to kill her? Was it because of what she’d found out, what she might prove? Someone she’d spoken to had called him, Miles Lombardy had confirmed that. It made sense he’d found out about the photos, that she knew about his ear. Maybe she’d been followed. Alex could have known exactly where she was since she was with his chief staffer. Could it mean Juliet was in danger, too?
Mia sat up, pulled her cell out of the charger, and dialed Tommy Maitland.
He picked up on the second ring, surprise in his voice. “Mia, isn’t it late for you to be calling?” At her silence, his voice changed to what she called his FBI voice, lower, more controlled. “Something’s happened, hasn’t it? Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m all right.” She rushed through her evening of drinks with Miles Lombardy, her walk to the subway, the sedan coming out of nowhere toward her, her rescue by Lex Luthor, yes, that was his name. “I’m making myself crazy, Tommy. I mean, Lex was probably right, wasn’t he? A crazy drunk? Or a hallucinating druggie?”
Though Tommy was silent, Mia could nearly hear him thinking. He said finally, “Sure, it’s possible, but . . . is there something you haven’t told me?”
She let out a breath. “There’s a whole lot that’s happened in the last couple of days. Even if the car tonight hadn’t nearly hit me, I still would have called. Are you sitting down?” She started with what she’d seen at the rave, her suspicions after she spoke with Kent Harper, still the gamer with his sword, about Juliet Calley and Alex Harrington’s lacrosse coach at Bennington Prep confirming his earlobe was torn by a lacrosse stick. “I know it all sounds circumstantial, Tommy, but here’s the thing—once Juliet Calley admitted Alex, her fiancé, and Kent, had roofied and raped her, together, I have no doubt they killed Serena.”
Mia closed her eyes. She knew how deeply he felt the pain of Serena’s loss, felt his rage at knowing Serena had been murdered and no one had ever paid. She couldn’t imagine what he was feeling. “I’m sorry, Tommy. I shouldn’t have just blurted it out. I know this is a fist to the gut.”
“No, no, it’s okay, just a huge surprise. What’s going on, Mia?”
“Listen, Tommy, until tonight I thought Alex Harrington didn’t have any idea I suspect him, or at least of what, exactly. And now a car has tried to run me down. Again, Tommy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
