The Undertaker

I had no choice but to laugh as I dug in my pocket and handed the girl two twenties and a ten. I took the girl's hat and pulled Sandy back into an alcove.

“I don't believe you. Fifty bucks? You're nuts.”

“Hush,” I told her. “Put your aunt's wig on.” She did and I put the Cubs hat on over it, pulling it down low, so it rode on top of her ears. “Now go to the ticket window at the other end and buy two South Shore tickets on the first train for Indiana.” I took her shoulder bag from her and the rose. “It won't take Tinkerton's people long to check all the stations and talk to the ticket agents. When they lay our photographs in front of baldy back there, he'll remember us and he'll remember the two tickets I bought for Kankakee. With the Cubs hat and the blond hair, the other guy won't. Now go.”

“Talbott.” She looked up at me with a new hint of respect. “Underneath that slightly dim-witted dweeb exterior, you can be one sneaky son-of-bitch. I have hopes for you.”

She walked away toward the ticket booth as I took a seat on the bench. I had her big shoulder bag. It was like a cookie jar on the kitchen counter. I could grab the papers and be out the door before she knew I was gone. It was a thought, a good one, and probably even the right one, but I couldn't do that to her.

She came running back, took my hand, and pulled me along. “Let's go, we gotta hurry. Our train's leaving on Track Four in three minutes.”

“South Bend?”

“No. I bought tickets on a local. There's an express leaving in thirty minutes that goes as far as Michigan City, but we don't want to sit here that long. The local connects with it at 59th Street. We can get off, wait there, and buy tickets on the express.”

“Very smart. And very sneaky, too.”

“See, Talbott?” She grinned happily. “What ever would you do without me?”

“Don't let it go to your head.”

“Then move your ass, because the three minutes we had is now two.”

She grabbed her shoulder bag and the rose and we ran down the tunnel. “By the way,” she asked. “How come you didn't grab the papers and take off without me?”

I looked shocked. “You know, that never even occurred to me.”

“Bullshit! You thought about it all right, but I've got eyes like a hawk and you aren't half fast enough to get away with it.”

“You know, that must have been it,” I answered as we jumped on board the nearly empty commuter train and plopped side-by-side in one of the rear seats on the far side of the car. The South Shore Line had gaudy orange cars with diamond-shaped accordion contraptions on top that connected to overhead electrical wires. Not that I cared. The train could burn cow chips as long as it got us the hell out of Chicago.

She put the rose to her nose and took a big sniff. “Presents are nice,” she said as she gave me a hug. “So we're off to Boston?”

“I have friends there. Maybe we can get some help.”

“That works for me. I locked the store. I've got my camera and a tooth brush,” she said as she patted her bag. “I've even got a rose and a new baseball hat, and I've got you. What more could a girl possibly want?”

“Sandy…”

“Relax, Talbot. I'm just joking with you again. Really. I don't go where I'm not wanted, so you're safe.”

Wasn't this going to be fun, I thought. This trip with her is going to be a ball of laughs, if it doesn't get us both killed first. Fun? Laughs? She was pressed up against me, holding tightly onto my arm. Despite her promises, I could tell she wasn't joking at all.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Praise the Lord for Catholic girls schools …

The South Shore tracks were in a deep cut well below street level and the train finally found sunshine a couple of blocks south of the station. A staccato of black shadows flashed across the windows as we passed under a succession of trestles, overhead wiring, and bridges. As we went under one of the wider ones, a line of Chicago police cars raced by above us, sirens wailing and their blue strobe lights flashing, headed for Michigan Avenue.

“Right direction.” Sandy pointed a finger at them like a pistol and pulled the trigger. “But a tad too late.”

The train began to slow as we approached the first station. The car's doors opened, but the platform outside was nearly empty — no cops, no dark suits, no sunglasses, and no Disciple 35th Nation homies waiting on this platform. I saw nothing more sinister than a handful of housewives with shopping bags. Still, I could not completely relax until the doors closed and the train headed south again. As it picked up speed, I leaned my head back on the seat and realized how bone tired I was. The physical pounding and emotional stress of the past three days had all taken their toll.