Once More With Feeling by Emilie Richards Read Free Book Online Page A

forehead--she
suspected that would emerge right in the middle of her lecture. She
combed her hair, freshened her makeup, and did her best to smooth
her skirt and jacket.
    Neither of them spoke for the rest of the
trip, although Gypsy could see Randy's eyes repeatedly darting to
the rearview mirror. She didn't know if he was spying on her or
looking for the two big guys. Whatever he saw or didn't, he seemed
calm again. She was anything but.
    The university was a tree-shaded oasis after
the long drive and the car-chase-that-wasn't. Close to the hall
where she was to speak they slowed to a crawl as students crossed
the road at odd moments and angles.
    "I'll park and check the area. You stay
locked inside until I come back to open your door," Randy said.
"We've been promised the university will have a couple of campus
cops waiting in front and more inside."
    "Sure," she said acidly. "We can't be too
careful. A dark car might drive right up the center aisle of the
auditorium while I'm speaking."
    He parked the limo between two red traffic
cones at the curb, a job not unlike docking the QE2. After he
turned off the engine he didn't speak . . . or move.
    "Look, I don't want to be late," she said.
"Can't you get this part of it right, at least?"
    "I don't see . . . the cops." He sounded far
away, but before she could ask what was going on, he pushed his
door open and got out, closing and locking it behind him. She
watched as he passed in front of the windshield, then she looked
down to gather up her purse and briefcase.
    When she looked up again, Randy was lying
face down in the middle of the sidewalk twenty yards away.
    "Holy shit!" Gypsy was out of the limo
before she could think about it, sprinting, then diving at his
prostrate body. "Randy!" She grabbed his shoulders and shook him
hard, banging his chest against the sidewalk. People began to close
in on her.
    She could feel her new hose rip to shreds
and ping like tiny slingshots against her calves. "Randy!" She
shook him again. Then she grabbed one muscular arm and tried to
turn him over.
    "Let me help." A young man wearing a black
leather jacket knelt beside her, and together they managed to get
Randy to his back.
    Randy's eyes were wide-open and staring at
heaven's gates.
    Gypsy slapped her hands over her mouth.
    The man in black leather felt Randy's neck
for a pulse. He moved his hand, then again. "Jeez, I can't find a
pulse. Does anybody here know CPR?" Another student, a woman with
long, straight hair pushed her way through the gathering crowd and
knelt at Randy's other side. She placed her ear against his
chest.
    "Cops. There are supposed to be cops!" Gypsy
got to her feet to look for help. Somebody had to call an
ambulance, and the cops were an obvious first choice. But the hall
entrance was the only view that wasn't blocked. There were no cops
there or anywhere in sight.
    Gypsy's fears for Randy died under the
crushing weight of new fears for her own safety. Randy was dead.
There were no cops.
    And a dark car had tailed them on the Long
Island Expressway.
    She dived at Randy again, frantic this time
to get to him. There was no visible evidence of a gunshot wound,
but she wasn't going to take the time to investigate further. He
was dead, and that was good enough for her. She pushed the young
woman to one side and searched for Randy's pockets, methodically
patting down all the parts of his anatomy that had appealed to her
just an hour ago. She found the keys and jerked them free.
    The crowd parted as she darted toward the
limo. She unlocked the door and slid into the driver's seat. Gypsy
hadn't driven in years; she hadn't needed to. But the powerful
motor roared as she pulled out into the narrow lane and took off
the way she and Randy had just come.
     
    "No. No, no no!" Elisabeth looked at the
dashboard clock again, although only seconds had passed since the
last time. After leaving the city she had gotten behind every slow
driver on the Expressway. And once again, the