Free Missing Brandy (A Fina Fitzgibbons Brooklyn Mystery Book 2) by Susan Russo Anderson Page A

bridge every day and notice them. They’re multiplying like rabbits. I saw a new one this morning on Joralemon and had to circle, couldn’t park where I’d rehearsed. You remember, don’t you?”
    “You’re crazy paranoid.” Ben ran fingers through his hair. His foot wouldn’t stop tapping. Now that the nab was over, Ben’s usefulness was gone. Ben was too much work.

Chapter 12

    Brandy. In Chains

    My tongue is a thick claw with green fuzz all over it. It’s stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I can’t talk or swallow. Can’t see, can’t breathe. Why did you let this happen, Dad? Why did you leave me? I smell fish. I’m swimming up from someplace, where, I don’t know, but it’s not the subway. I’m getting dizzy. Going to barf. Must have gotten sick already because I stink worse than Masterson. He’s the kid I told you about, remember? Doesn’t have friends. But this isn’t the nurse’s station. Must have peed in my pants. How disgusting is that? Does Mom miss me yet? I hear voices, horns, seagulls. Where am I? Someplace where everything is rolling. Or they’ve given me meds. Why aren’t you talking to me?
    “Help, someone, anyone! I’ve got to pee.”
    That ought to get them. Footsteps. A voice telling me to take it easy.
    “You can leave as soon as we hear from your mother.”
    Sure, and in the meantime I can pee in my pants. “Hear what from her?” Never mind, she won’t do anything. I should hold my breath waiting for Pah-tricia?
    “She’s got to pay up for you, kid.”
    That was some kind of nasty voice. There must be two of them . “She won’t talk to you, scum. She barely talks to me.”
    “I should slice you up into little pieces for that remark.”
    Scuffling feet. Low voices.
    “Don’t worry. You can leave as soon as she pays up.”
    That was the nice one talking. “At least tell me where the bathroom is. I’ve got to pee. I can’t move. Get me out of here.”
    No one’s answering me. They must have gone away and left me here to rot. They buried me and left. God! Dad! Someone! I can’t see anything. I think I’m going to be sick again. It’s so dark, and I’m rolling around in here, all alone. Maybe I’ll suffocate, and no one will find me until I’m bones.

Chapter 13

    Henry. That Morning, The Car Float

    “Told you I should have given her another dose.”
    Henry said nothing. He and Ben stood on the barge in the middle of New York Harbor as they crossed to the New Jersey side, hugging the freight car with the van chocked inside, safe, the scent broken, just like Henry knew it would be. He relaxed. This was the way he’d planned it. Even Ben quieted, and the weather was cooperating.
    The wind blew at his breaker. Henry filled his lungs with fresh air as the scow, prodded by the tugboat, rode the waves and not too gently, either. He was in his element. He loved bridges. He loved water. He breathed the salt air and watched Ben heave over the side. No patrol boats in sight. He bent down and slipped the girl’s phone into the water, watching it burble and sink slowly like the shiny underbelly of a fish.
    There hadn’t been much river traffic. It was too early in the day for the tourists who’d later make their way from Battery Park to Ellis or Liberty Island. They’d just passed the Statue of Liberty, and Henry looked at Ben’s folded form. It wouldn’t take much, Henry figured. He ran his fingers over his combat holster, but he knew he couldn’t shoot Ben. The crew might hear the report above the noise of the wind and the tugboat engine, even if the gun he used was only a subcompact. He touched the rubber mallet in the inside pocket of his windbreaker. Ben was much stronger than Henry. He knew it, but knew it would take only one swift blow to the back of his head. That’s all. The man was getting to be too much, an irritation he didn’t need anymore, and he was nasty to Phillipa the other day, almost as if he were jealous of her. There were moments when Henry