Part 17 (1/2)

”Bedtime.”

”No. Really. This guy was scoping you the whole time I was dancing. I could see him through the window.”

I looked in the direction she'd indicated. No one fit her description.

”Where?”

She scanned the faces around the bar, then looked over her shoulder in the other direction.

”Really, Tempe.” She shrugged. ”I can't spot him now.”

”He's probably one of my students. They're always amazed to see me out without a walker.”

”Yeah, I guess. The guy looked pretty young for you.”

”Thanks.”

Ryan watched like Gramps observing the young 'uns.

”Are you ready?” I b.u.t.toned my jacket and pulled on my mittens.

Harry looked at her Rolex, then said exactly what I expected.

”It's just past midnight. Couldn't we-”

”I'm heading out, Harry. The condo's only four blocks from here and you've got a key. You can stay if you want.”

For a moment she looked undecided, then she turned to Ryan.

”Are you going to be here awhile?”

”No problema, kiddo.”

She gave me the same puppy look the geezer had used.

”You're sure you don't mind?”

”Of course not.” Like h.e.l.l.

I explained the keys and she gave me a hug.

”Let me walk you back,” said Ryan, reaching for his jacket. My protector.

”No, thanks. I'm a big girl.”

”Then let me call a taxi for you.”

”Ryan, I am allowed to travel unaccompanied.”

”Suit yourself.” He settled back, shaking his head.

The cold air felt good after the heat and smoke of the pub. For about a millisecond. The temperature had dropped and the wind had picked up, plunging the chill factor to a billion degrees below zero.

Within steps my eyes were tearing and I could feel ice forming around the edges of my nostrils. I drew my m.u.f.fler across my mouth and nose, and tied it in a big knot at the back of my head. I looked like a geek, but at least my orifices wouldn't freeze over.

I stuffed my hands deep into my pockets, lowered my head, and trudged on. Warmer, but barely able to see, I angled across Crescent and up to Ste-Catherine. There wasn't a soul in sight.

I'd just crossed MacKay when I felt my scarf tighten, and my feet go out from under me. At first I thought I'd slipped on ice but then I realized I was being pulled backward. I had pa.s.sed the old York Theater and I was being dragged toward the side of the building. Hands spun me and shoved me face first against the wall. My own were still trapped in my pockets. As my face struck the brick I slid downward. When my knees. .h.i.t the ground, I was shoved facedown into the snow. A heavy blow struck my back, as though a large person had dropped knees first onto my thoracic spine. Pain shot down my back and my breath exploded outward through my m.u.f.fler. I was pinned to the ground in a p.r.o.ne position. I couldn't see, I couldn't move, and I couldn't breathe! I felt panic and air hunger. Blood pounded in my ears.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on turning my mouth to the side. I pulled a shallow breath. Then another. And another. The burning subsided and I began to exchange air.

I felt pain in my jaw and face. My head was locked at an awkward angle, my right eye pressed against the frozen snow. I felt a bulkiness below me and knew it was my purse. It had helped knock the wind out of me.

Give him the purse!

I wriggled to free myself, but my jacket and scarf still bound me like a straitjacket. I felt his body move. He seemed to stretch out on top of me. Then his breathing in my ear. Though m.u.f.fled by the scarf, it sounded heavy and rapid, desperate, animal-like in its intensity.

Don't lose consciousness. Unconscious means dead in this weather. Move! Do something!

Under my heavy clothing I was covered in sweat. I inched my hand around inside my pocket, searching. My fingers felt slick inside the wool mitten.

There!

I gripped my keys. The instant he let up I'd be ready. Helpless, I waited for an opening.

”Leave it alone,” a voice hissed in my ear.

He'd spotted the movement!

I froze.

”You don't know what you're doing. Back off!”

Back off what? Who did he think I was?

”Leave it alone,” he repeated, his voice trembling with emotion.

I couldn't speak, and he didn't seem to expect an answer. Was it a madman and not a mugger?

We lay there for what seemed eternity. Cars whooshed past. I'd lost all feeling in my face, and my neck vertebrae felt as if they would crack. I breathed with my mouth open, saliva freezing on my m.u.f.fler.

Stay calm. Think!

My mind raced through possibilities. Was he drunk? Stoned? Undecided? Was he savoring some sick fantasy that would trigger him to action? My heart pounded so loud I feared it would be the catalyst.