She nodded, surprised by his concern.
“Who has the key?”
The ruckus continued out of sight, punctuated now by a single gunshot, which did nothing to stem the shouts.
Cassie thought hard, trying to recall anything distinctive about the men who had manhandled her. “A man in a brown vest,” she shouted, hoping only one man matched that description.
O’Neill disappeared. He returned a few minutes later dragging the man in the brown vest, now unconscious, across the floor. O’Neill rifled through the man’s pockets until he found the key. As soon as he unlocked the door, Cassie hurried out, followed by Mrs. Walker. Tommy started to leave, but O’Neill halted him with a firm hand to the chest. “You’re staying here, I’m afraid.” He pushed Tommy back inside and relocked the door. He turned to the two women. “Where’s Ruiz?”
“I don’t know,” Cassie said.
“He’ll be in the basement,” Tommy said from the cell.
O’Neill nodded at him. “Which direction?”
Tommy pointed ahead. “Stairs are that way.”
“Follow me,” O’Neill directed the women. “Stay close.”
The trio dashed across the open space to the stairwell. Out of the corner of her eye, Cassie glimpsed a smear of blood along the floor. O’Neill led them slowly down the stairs, his pistol raised. At the bottom, he crept into the basement.
When he didn’t reappear for a few minutes, Cassie grew worried. “Should we—” she whispered to Mrs. Walker.
“Shh!” Mrs. Walker hushed her.
O’Neill reappeared. “There’s a stack of crates to the left. Go hide behind them while I free Ruiz.”
He motioned the women to follow. Compared to the vast space above, the basement was surprisingly cramped. The boxes that the women crept behind lined two of the walls. When Cassie crouched in the dark, narrow space, with Mrs. Walker behind her, she was only a few feet from Ruiz, who sat tied to a chair, desperately trying to untangle the knots tying his wrists behind his back. His face was so swollen Cassie wondered if he could even see.
O’Neill holstered his pistol and began to untie his companion. A barely perceptible breath of air from behind Cassie alerted her to movement. From the other side of the stack of crates, a man emerged and dashed toward O’Neill.
Without thinking, Cassie ran from her hiding spot toward the same point. She grabbed O’Neill’s pistol from where she had seen him stash it and spun on her heel. In one motion, she cocked the hammer and pulled the trigger. The assailant grunted and fell, bleeding at the knee.
O’Neill hurried over and checked the man for weapons, claiming the man’s pistol for himself.
Cassie and O’Neill stared at each other in shock.
“I shot him,” Cassie said, trembling.
“I can see that.” He took the gun from her and left his hand resting on hers for a moment. She gazed at him, and thought she almost saw him smile…
From the top of the stairs, a voice called, “All clear up here, boss!”
“Come down and check here, too.” He shook his head. “Damn,” he muttered to himself. “How did I not see him hiding there?”
“Looks like we saved each other today.” Cassie grinned at O’Neill, but he returned it only with a frown.
Behind her, policeman filled the dank space, freeing Ruiz and chattering about their success. A moment later, Powolski appeared from amid the group. He stood in front of Cassie, saying nothing. For a moment she thought he was going to hug her. Then he slowly reached out his hand to shake hers. “Good work,” was all he finally said.
Six
“The police chief called me to complain about you two,” Ellerbee raged the next day. “Interfering in a police investigation! On a story I didn’t even authorize.”
Cassie and Powolski sat in Ellerbee’s office, looking appropriately apologetic while they listened to his tirade.
When his steam had run out, Cassie said, “But it will make for a great story. An eyewitness account from inside. Damsels in distress. I can write—”
“No. I can’t have women writing crime features. How would that look?”
“I get the byline. That was the deal.” Powolski cut in.
“You two had a deal?” Ellerbee sighed. “Powolski will write the story. You can be interviewed, Miss Woods. I need it at my desk by 5:00.”
“But—” Cassie protested.
“You’re lucky I’m letting you keep your job.”
Cassie pouted but followed Powolski into the corridor. When the door to Ellerbee’s office closed behind them, Cassie said, “I should at least get contributor credit—”
“You heard the boss. You’ll still see your name in print. But don’t worry,” he said with a grin, “we make a great team. There will be more to come.”
Cassie sighed. She would have to live with that for now.
***
Hours later, the story complete and ready to go to press on the front page the next morning, Cassie emerged into the evening air. Powolski would be joining the other men in a celebratory drink, to which she was not invited.
A figure leaned against the building. This time it wasn’t Tommy but O’Neill.
