“The gate to the service entrance is open, and there’s a car waiting there for you,” she said as we handed her the chef’s coats.
“Thanks so much, Nita,” I said.
“Glad to be of service.” She gave Owen a saucy wink. “I’m a huge fan. Not that I have any idea who you are, of course.” With another wink, she was gone, and we ran to the metal gate at the end of the alley.
A limousine waited there, the driver holding the door for us. We dove inside, he shut the door behind us, and then he went around to the driver’s side and got in. “City Hall,” I called out through the window to the driver’s compartment. “And make sure we’re not followed.”
“In this traffic, that may not be easy, but I’ll see if I can confuse them,” he said. “Now sit back and enjoy the ride.”
I collapsed against the seat back and caught my breath. Owen took off his cap and sunglasses and rubbed his forehead. “I’ll have to be sure to leave a huge tip when I check out,” he said. “That was hotel service above and beyond the call of duty. Do they really have contingency plans for sneaking celebrities out?”
“I don’t know if the hotel does, but Nita’s been living for this, I’m sure. I’m impressed that she’s already got the whole hotel working with her on it. Her dad may be right. She’ll be running the place before long.”
He found a bottle of water in a cooler and handed it to me, then opened one for himself. After a long drink, he said, “You’ve got to admit, this beats taking the subway.”
“And it may be harder to track us this way. How will they know we’re in here?”
The limo wove in and out of traffic on the way downtown, making a few abrupt turns along the way. Finally, the car stopped. “City Hall,” the driver said. “I haven’t noticed anyone following us, and there doesn’t seem to be anyone here waiting for us.”
Owen paid him for the ride while I scoped out the area. The fact that the driver didn’t see anyone didn’t mean anything. I wouldn’t feel safe until I knew no one was there. But there was no one to see—no men in black, no Mr. Bones. We might stand a chance.
As the limo drove away, I turned to Owen. “Do you have any idea which monument the stuff is in?”
“None whatsoever, but this is supposed to lead me to it.” He took his mother’s key out of his pocket and drew the tip of it across his thumb, drawing blood, which he then smeared on the key. The key began glowing softly in his palm. “Let’s hope this works,” he said. He closed his hand around the key and paused, like he was listening for something, then said, “This way.”
While he followed whatever signals the key was giving him, I kept an eye out for any possible pursuers. “I’m glad your mother thought of sending you a magical divining rod because there are dozens of monuments to everyone and his or her dog in this park. And wasn’t the park renovated not too long ago? Things have probably been moved.”
Instead of answering, he moved faster, and I had to hurry to keep up with him. Soon, he was on his knees in the grass, next to a brass plaque on a stone base. He touched the key to the plaque, then the plaque popped open. In a cavity underneath was a manila envelope. Owen reached in and pulled it out, then the plaque slid back into place. He hurried to open the envelope, and I leaned over his shoulder to see what was in it.
“There you are, Palmer,” a voice said. “Turn around with your hands up.”
Instead of turning, Owen grabbed the hem of my T-shirt and shoved his hands under it, sliding the envelope under there. I instinctively wrapped my arms around my middle to keep it in place. He stuck the key in my pocket, then he hissed, “You know what to do.”
He jumped to his feet and ran toward the man, startling him. That gave me a second to get up and run in the opposite direction, toward the office. There were shouts behind me and the sound of a struggle, but I forced myself not to look back. That was the downfall of women in every horror or action movie ever made, and I’d sworn I wouldn’t ever do the same thing if I were being chased. It grew harder and harder to keep my focus forward when I heard what sounded like blows landing behind me and when I became aware of running footfalls nearby.
I clasped the envelope tighter to me as I felt someone clutch at my shirt. There was a rushing sound from above, zooming over my head, and then I heard something hit the ground behind me. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I got your back. Just keep runnin’,” Sam’s voice said.