Ex-Cape From The Past Read online

  Molly didn’t spot Bri again on the way out. She supposed the girl had found other hunting grounds as she searched for survey prey.

  ✽✽✽

  Molly awoke early for a Saturday and went to the basement for her morning workout. While years of relative inactivity had left her well out of her fighting trim, she could never be comfortable being completely out of shape. She still had enemies, though hopefully none of them could find her. One dark specter in particular…

  She shook her head. It was too early in the morning for such a nightmare. Instead, she heard the jump rope as it slapped against the floor and pondered how much damage that impact caused her hardwood. She decided to stand in a different spot the next time she exercised.

  Her workout completed, she took a quick shower and went for breakfast. Never one for “normal” breakfast foods, she decided on the leftover lasagna over the leftover Chinese food. Eating the same food for two meals straight couldn’t be good for her. As the pasta and cheese melted together in her oven, she decided she probably shouldn’t try to determine what counted as healthy food while this hungry.

  Thankfully, she’d gone shopping. She’d been down to the lasagna, two eggs of questionable expiration date, and assorted condiments, including four unopened bottles of cocktail sauce she had no memory buying. It occurred to her Frank might want to see her house after lunch. She tried to remember if she had any of his favorite foods.

  Of course, if Frank did come back to her house, food might not be on either of their minds.

  Did she want that? She genuinely missed parts of her old life, Frank chief among them. Molly remembered a lingering rooftop kiss, and she decided her feelings for Frank didn’t entirely qualify as past tense.

  This had been part of the reason she’d closed herself off to his world. It would be easy to fall back into old habits. Easy and dangerous. Getting back into his circle meant coming out of hiding, and without question, someone still waited for her to stick her neck out.

  ✽✽✽

  A few hours later, Molly stared appraisingly in the mirror. To have perfect hair, I would need a team of stylists and some airbrushing of the photograph. She forced herself to put down the brush and not try to upset the compromise between too wavy and too straight she’d managed to arrange.

  She slipped the new dress on. Her bathroom mirror did not flatter her as the ones in Heather’s dressing room had, but the dress still showed her in her best light— elegant, natural, casual.

  And it took me only forty-five minutes to achieve this look.

  She shut down her inner irony and studied herself in the mirror. She needed a necklace. Molly avoided a glance at her mattress as she moved to the bedroom. She’d changed the sheets, and she swore the bed wanted to know what, precisely, she had planned.

  She searched through the jewelry box, frowning at the pitiful assortment. Molly had a strand of pearls and a few unadorned chains to go around her neck. She opened a drawer in case she’d stuffed a necklace in the bottom when she found the perfect piece, a circle of metal, too big for a ring and too gaudy to wear most places. Would Frank even remember giving it to her?

  She slipped one of her chains through it and clasped her new pendant around the neck. It didn’t match the outfit, but sometimes the sentimental value had to win out

  ✽✽✽

  Frank had picked a good restaurant in Daisy’s, a fancy, but not frou-frou spot midway between Capetown and the city. Any closer and she wouldn’t have had the guts to go. She had difficulty believing she’d arrived before him. Given who he was, Frank almost couldn’t help showing up early.

  The hostess passed her off to a perpetually smiling young woman who gave off a distinct working-my-way-through-college vibe. As Molly hung her purse from the chair and sat, the girl said, “Do you want something from the bar?”

  A gust of air that had nothing to do with the ceiling fans ruffled her hair. The chair across from her, empty a moment ago, now held a handsome, well-tanned man with a grin. “I’ll have a scotch and soda.”

  The college girl started like a jackrabbit and put her hand to her heart. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

  His easy-going grin enlarged. “Not a problem. Sorry to sneak up on you.”

  He wasn’t.

  “Okay, scotch and soda, and for you?” She indicated Molly.

  Frank answered first. “Still drinking rum and cokes?”

  “Not for ages. So a rum and coke sounds lovely.”

  “I’ll be right back.” The hostess headed to the bar.

  As soon as the girl left, Molly locked eyes with Frank. “Ham.”

  “You think I should order the ham?”

  “That would be cannibalism.”

  They both laughed. Frank showed off almost without conscious thought. Molly couldn’t be angry at him for it.

  Time hadn’t changed him much. Frank Falco — whom the world knew as Hustle — still wore his blond hair short. He’d opened his shirt one button lower than strictly necessary, displaying his exceptionally toned chest. With his incredible metabolism, Frank lacked the ability to put on extra weight.

  After the laughter ended, Frank stopped, cocked his head appraisingly at her and said, “Hi.”

  “Hi, yourself.”

  “It’s been too long.”

  “Yes, it has. Probably my fault.”

  “No. I could have called. I didn’t expect I’d need to. I never believed you’d stay retired. I kept expecting to run around the corner and see you punching a mugger in the jaw.”

  Molly replied with a rueful smile. “I never learned how to punch well. I can’t remember how many times I had to make up an excuse for how I sprained my hand again.”

  Frank didn’t smile. “Was it easy to give up?”

  “It got easier when I left the city. I’m not saying Capetown’s a utopia, but it doesn’t need a crime fighter. The biggest scandal of the year came when the senior class president got caught spray painting city hall.”

  “Doesn’t it get boring?”

  “Not like you’d think. I never considered myself a thrill seeker. I don’t miss running on adrenaline. I had the hardest hard time giving up the control.”

  “Control?”

  “As Etherya, the criminals feared me. I made my own destiny. I’m sure you feel the same when—” She stopped as the hostess returned with their drinks.

  “Here you go,” said the hostess setting down the drinks. “Nick will be your waiter this afternoon, and he’ll be here in a moment.”

  Frank picked up his drink and took a sip. As the hostess departed, he said, “You’re right, you know. My life becomes a thousand times more interesting when I put on the Hustle uniform. I’m a crappy dentist and a so-so friend. I can’t imagine making those things the forefront of my life. Still, I can’t remember having the time to enjoy something as mundane as having dinner with a hot woman.”

  “Please do not insinuate I have merely mundane hotness, thank you very much.”

  He winked at her and raised his glass. “Not in the slightest.”

  Nick, the waiter, approached. “Welcome to Daisy’s. Can I start you off with any appetizers?”

  She didn’t react to the rustle of laminated paper. Frank had speed-read the whole menu in under a second. “Two orders of mozzarella sticks, peel and eat shrimp, and a bowl of the broccoli cheese soup.”

  “I’ll have a cup of the soup,” said Molly. “Can we order our entrees when you bring the appetizers?”

  “Of course.”

  Molly examined the menu. She could feel Frank watching her as she leafed through it, but she did not hurry. Experience had taught her trying to live life at his pace would only make them both cranky. Just as she’d decided on the chicken marsala, he spoke up.

  “I can’t believe you still keep that.”

  She followed his gaze and imagined momentarily his eyes had fixed on her cleavage. Then she remembered the pendant dangling around her neck. “A girl doesn’t forget the first
time a man proposes to her.”

  Chapter Two

  The battle plan had been their standard modus operandi. Hustle easily qualified as the world’s greatest distraction. Etherya, on the other hand, no one ever saw coming. Dr. Mortenblüd certainly couldn’t have known she’d penetrated his inner sanctum.

  “Feel free to keep struggling, Hustle.” Though he had his back to her, Etherya heard the sneer in his voice. “My adhesive could keep a rhinoceros stuck to the floor. I assure you, you won’t get away.”

  She held her position. Hustle might have his boots completely fastened to the floor, but she’d seen him in far more danger. Keep him talking.

  “You arrived early, you know.” The mechanical arms from Mortenblüd’s battle suit made a whirring sound as he lifted a pipe to his lips. “You costumed types usually show up before I unleash my new creations, but the Desiccator won’t be ready for a few days.”

  Hustle grunted. It might have been a laugh. “I didn’t even know you’d hunkered down here, Doc. I came searching for the source of the blackouts.”

  Mortenblüd bobbed his head in understanding. With his wild red hair, he reminded her of a supernova from behind. “Ah, yes, I should have taken the time to build my own power source instead of relying on the city’s. Duly noted for next time.”

  “There won’t be a next time, Doc.”

  Etherya inched closer, not making a sound.

  “Yes, yes. You will stop me no matter the cost. I will learn the error of my ways, etcetera, and etcetera.” They’d begun to bore him. Not a good sign. “I’m afraid there will be a different ending for this encounter. You see, on the panel behind me…”

  Etherya went insubstantial, certain the doctor would twist and spot her, but he didn’t. He simply pointed to a computer terminal in the corner of the room.

  “…I have a switch that could release an enzyme to neutralize the adhesive. There’s also one that would cover you with one of the most caustic acids I’ve ever developed. Which switch do you want me to use?”

  Etherya rushed to the terminal. She had to disable it.

  Meanwhile, Hustle kept Dr. Mortenblüd’s attention. “Do you have a switch to put some mousse in your hairdo?”

  As Etherya reached the terminal’s keyboard, Dr. Mortenblüd’s tone changed. “Perhaps I’ll pull the switch to electrocute your friend!”

  Even if she hadn’t gone solid again to work the computer, her intangibility didn’t help against electricity. Her body jerked like a marionette whose puppet master was in his death throes. She couldn’t even scream.

  The flow of electricity broke. She crumpled to the floor, not unconscious, but paralyzed.

  “Forgive the hyperbole, dear. ‘Electrocute’ would mean you die. That certainly will come to pass, but I don’t see the need to rush.” His metallic foot plates clanked as he stomped toward her. He bent at the waist and leered. “With your ability to walk through walls, I imagine you will not take well to being a captive. It should prove a delicious challenge.”

  Even in her weakened state, Etherya could see his mistake. You turned your back on Hustle.

  He attacked in a blur of movement, but not his regular orange flash. At the bottom, she spied a hint of peach coloring. Her muscle control returned enough for the beginnings of a smile. Hustle had slipped out of his boots and leaped free of the adhesive.

  Hustle struck at Dr. Mortenblüd’s unprotected face. His fists had speed comparable to his legs, and the force of the multiple blows sent the doctor stumbling. Even with the added strength of his battle suit, he overbalanced and toppled to the floor.

  For once in his life, Hustle didn’t have a witty comment. He hauled Etherya away from the booby-trapped terminal and shook her.

  “Hey. Stay with me, babe. You okay?”

  She’d have loved to respond, but likely nothing would come out except a groan. Her pride did not allow her such weakness in front of him. Instead, she forced her lips into a smile and winked.

  Hustle exhaled in relief. He spun on the fallen scientist. “If you’d hurt her, I don’t know what I’d have done to you.”

  “To start, you should have made sure I was unconscious.”

  Hustle had the speed to stop Mortenblüd from pushing the button on the forearm of his suit, but not the reaction time. In the next second, alarms blared, lights flashed, and a thick fog began dropping from the ceiling.

  Poison gas.

  The alarms and flashing lights served no purpose but distraction, and Dr. Mortenblüd took full advantage of them, tumbling toward a panel in the wall that opened up against his weight. It closed when he passed through, and an ominous click announced the activation of the locking mechanism.

  They had no time. Etherya forced her barely working body to a lunge, forcing all her will into ghosting her body through the panel. She stumbled more than dove through the wall and landed heavily. Dr. Mortenblüd’s cackles carried back to her as he ran down the corridor.

  She focused her attention on the simple latch, the one time in his life Dr. Mortenblüd hadn’t made things needlessly complex. She had barely opened the panel when Hustle blurred inside.

  “Got just a whiff. More than enough.” The toxins he’d inhaled turned his voice into a rasp.

  The sound of a whining engine caught their attention. Ignoring their exhaustion and injuries, Hustle scooped her up in his arms and ran toward the sound. Etherya shut her eyes against the air currents. When he stopped, Hustle wheezed and dropped her more roughly than he normally would have.

  Etherya took in the scene. The doctor had constructed a huge silo, at least three hundred feet tall. In the ceiling, a hole rapidly opened like a dilating pupil. Mortenblüd had climbed into the cockpit of a vehicle less like a jet and more like a missile with wings.

  She had seconds if that. She forced herself to run and thrust her ghost-like arms deep into the machinery, feeling around for something to clutch. One hand wrapped around a strip of wires, another around what felt like a thin fuel line.

  That’ll work.

  She made her hands solid and yanked with all her might. The wires came easily, but something above them scraped the back of her hand, drawing blood. The fuel line resisted more strenuously, but it did eventually give way with a spray of liquid. Quickly, she ghosted her hands and likewise followed with the rest of her body.

  “Run,” she cried to Hustle. In an eye blink, he disappeared around the corner.

  The first small explosion soon became a chain reaction in the tight confines of the rocket. Mortenblüd screamed and had barely enough time to activate the eject system.

  The heat scalded her, but the shrapnel and concussion went right through her ghosted form without effect. She still faced away from the explosion meaning she could be grateful the flash wouldn’t blind her.

  When the worst came to an end, Hustle appeared and guided her back to the corridor through the thick smoke. After the air cleared, they surveyed the carnage. Scorch marks had made it halfway up the bunker wall. The eject system had worked and sent Mortenblüd clear of the blast. However, it had never been designed to be used indoors. His battle suit had taken the brunt of the impact as he slammed against the walls, but he’d fallen unconscious, and — Etherya smirked — his hair smoldered.

  From the carnage, a small piece of metal rolled nearby and struck her on the boot. Hustle immediately knelt and picked up the shiny washer that had survived the blast. He handed it up to her with a chuckle. “Will you marry me?”

  She shook her head. “I could never marry a man in bare feet.”

  ✽✽✽

  Frank grinned. “Those were good times.”

  “Simpler, anyway.”

  “Oh, come on. You and I made up one of the best teams in the biz, and you know it.”

  She took his hand. “I miss those times too, Frank. I don’t know if I could ever go back to them.” She hesitated. “But if you ask, I’ll listen.”

  A person had to watch Frank carefully to notice when he wore
his heart on his sleeve. True to form, his emotions stuck around on his face for only a split second. He’d been touched by what she’d said.

  He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it. “I don’t need Etherya right now, Bright Eyes, though I know how difficult that offer must have been for you to make. I came here because there’s something long overdue in my life, and I can only think of one person to help me through it.”

  Molly’s heart skipped a beat.

  “I live the weirdest life. Some of the coolest, the best people I know, I see a few times a year at most. Even when I do see them, it’s only enough time to disassemble a giant robot or find the hideout of a gang of kidnappers. I don’t get to be with the people I trust with my life, with my secrets, and I can only describe the whole thing as sad.”

  “Sad?”

  “Sad I barely ever see them. Other people have friends they hang out with. Don’t get me wrong, I love going toe to toe with Professor Skeleton’s latest undead army, but taking my best pals out to go bowling shouldn’t be a non-starter.”

  “I…didn’t even know you bowled.”

  Frank let go of her hand. “I don’t bowl. When would I have time to bowl?” He stopped, thinking. “The point is, I want a chance to do something dreadfully, painfully normal with the people who mean the most to me.”

  Molly recalled her life since she gave up Etherya. It hadn’t dawned on her until she had sat on a lawn chair on the sidewalk watching the Capetown Fourth of July parade how much she missed the delightfully mundane pleasures of normal life. “I understand.”

  He grinned. “I figured I’d come to the right place.”

  Nick arrived with the appetizers. As Frank ordered his entrees, Molly struggled to keep her poker face. Frank rattled off four separate entrees. His part of the bill alone would be over a hundred dollars.