Fifth and University, ringing her little heart out. Surely there was a reward awaiting her in heaven for this.
A man dressed in leather and wearing enough gold to strangle himself stopped and inserted a ten-dollar bill in the bright red pot. When Monica thanked him, he insisted upon âgiving her five.â It took her a good three minutes to realize what he intended. He was simply looking to slap her hand. He ambled away, suggesting she get with it, whatever or whomever âitâ was.
Okay, so she wasnât cool, if that was the current vernacular. Nor was she hip or groovy or several other words that came to mind. She was Godâs willing servant. All right, she wasnât so willing just then, but she was doing her part and that was all that mattered.
Her ears were cold and her fingers had lost their feeling and she had another half hour to go when it happened.
It was him.
The man whoâd caught her in his arms three days earlier, the one sheâd attempted to restrain from entering the Blue Goose. He was standing on the other side of the street waiting for the traffic to pass so he could cross. Everyone else would wait for the green light and the walk sign, but not him. Oh, no, he was too impatient for that.
She stopped ringing the bell, then started again with a vengeance, closing her eyes, hoping with everything in her that heâd simply walk past and not notice it was her.
Monica should have realized that would have been asking too much.
âWell, well, well,â he said, strolling all the way around her. âAnd who do we have here? Monica, am I right?â
She ignored him and stared straight ahead, jerking the small bell back and forth for all she was worth, her shoulders so stiff they ached.
âItâs mighty cold to be standing outside for any length of time, isnât it?â
Monica didnât deign to answer him. A lady in a fur coat walked past and dropped a few coins into the red kettle. âMerry Christmas,â Monica said from pure habit.
âThe same to you,â the private investigator answered.
âPlease leave me alone,â she whispered.
âIt seems to me I asked the same thing of you recently and did it help? Oh, no, you were convinced I needed to be saved.â He flung his hands into the air. âHallelujah, brother.â
âPlease.â She tried again.
âNot on your life, sister,â he responded.
âIf you continue to pester me youâll leave me no choice but to contact the police and have you forcibly removed.â
âThreats?â He folded his arms over his broad chest and arched both brows in mock terror. âSo you want to involve the authorities. Fine. Good luck finding a cop walking his beat. In case you werenât aware, the cityâs seriously understaffed, and this time of year is busier than most.â
Monica knew God was looking out for her when a city cop turned the corner just then, casually sauntering down the sidewalk. âOfficer, Officer,â she called, wasting no time. âThis man is bothering me.â
The policeman, who was tall and burly beneath his thick coat and cap, was casually swinging his billy club. âYou troubling this young lady, Chet?â
It was just her luck that they knew each other.
âBothering this woman? Me? You know me better than that,â Chet answered, beaming Monica a cocky smile. âIâve got more important things to do.â
âThatâs what I thought.â
âHe refuses to leave,â Monica supplied huffily.
âNow, listen, miss, I know Chetâs a sorry-looking alley cat, but heâs harmless. Let me assure you, youâre in no danger from him.â
âThanks, Dennis,â Chet said and dipped his head slightly.
âThatâs simply not true,â Monica tried again, more adamantly this time. âI politely asked him to leave and he refused.â
Dennis bounced the billy club
Facing the Lion: Growing Up Maasai on the African Savanna