The Law of Second Chances by James Sheehan Page A

Benny relished the thought of running his hands up and down that body, even if it was just to check for a weapon. And maybe, just maybe, she’d like it. It might have been wishful thinking, but Benny had always been an optimist.
    “Well,” she interrupted his thoughts, “are we going to do this peacefully or not?”
    “What if I say okay? What happens when I give you the money?”
    “And my gun.”
    “And your gun. What happens to me?”
    “Nothing. You have my word. Why did you run off that night?”
    “I got freaked out,” Benny said. “When the old man went down, I didn’t know what to do. I just ran and ran and ran. Then I hopped the subway and ended up back here.”
    She looked around the bar uneasily. “Come on, search me,” she said. “We can talk while we go get my money and my gun.”
    She put her arms out and Benny patted her down. He ran his hands up the inside of her legs and checked her crotch, lingering a moment. She didn’t say anything. Then he ran them up the side of her torso and across her breasts, again taking his time. “If you don’t move those hands, I’m going to break your neck,” she said calmly. But she didn’t do anything to stop him. It was almost as if she was letting Benny have his feel.
    “What?” Benny said as he withdrew his hands. “I had to make sure you’re not hiding anything in your bra.”
    Benny saw Tillie watching the patdown with a puzzled expression on his face. He decided to confuse him a little more. “I left a ten-spot on the bar,” he said over his shoulder as the two of them walked out.
    Benny led the woman down a side street to an abandoned building. He pushed open the front door, and they started climbing the stairs.
    “I’m up on the fifth floor,” he said. “The rats don’t like to come up here and neither do the junkies. It’s too far a walk.”
    Most of the walls on the fifth floor had been knocked out, but Benny had found one intact room. There was a mattress on the floor with sheets and covers on it, and there was even a dresser. Some dress clothes on hangers were dangling from a pipe—obviously Benny’s weekend attire.
    Her eyes scanned the room as if she was looking for something. Benny thought it might be the john and felt theneed to explain. “There’s a hotel at the end of the block. It’s a pretty seedy joint but I bring the desk guy some goodies once a week—things I find, you know? And he lets me use the facilities in the empty rooms. They’re never full so I don’t have a problem. I’ve even got electricity when I need it. I run a wire across the roof to the next building and hook up. I gotta be careful, though. I only do it when it’s cold—for my portable heater, you know?”
    “I’m happy for you, Benny. Now where’s my money and my gun?”
    “They’re here, don’t worry. I just thought maybe we could relax, you know?” Benny casually glanced over at his mattress.
    “Are you out of your fucking mind?” she said. “You’re lucky I’m letting you live.”
    “Okay, okay.” Benny could tell from her eyes and the tone of her voice that her patience was wearing thin. He walked to the far end of the room to a bare brick wall and started working one of the bricks until it came loose. He reached into the wall and pulled out a wad of bills and the gun. He put the brick back and walked over to where she was standing and handed her the money and the gun.
    She paused for a moment as she looked down at the gun, then she handed it back to him. “Keep it,” she said. “You may need it—especially in this neighborhood.”
    Benny didn’t want the gun but he never turned anything down. He could sell it down the road if he needed to.
    “Tell me something,” she asked as she stashed the money in her overcoat. “Why did you shoot the old man?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t know,” said Benny, his words spilling out. “I haven’t thought about it. I put it out of my mind. I don’t even remember it.” He closed