Time Trapped by Richard Ungar Page B

five, tap my wrist and then reappear inside.
    â€œHow did you do that?” she asks.
    â€œMagic,” I say.
    â€œShow me,” she says, her voice surprisingly husky for someone so scrawny.
    â€œI’ll show you . . . after we strike a deal,” I say.
    She looks at me sideways. I think she’s weighing what the odds are of successfully attacking me and forcing me to reveal how I got in and out of the room.
    Then she looks at her fingernails and says, “Man, these are getting long. And sharp too. Good thing I don’t have an itch that needs scratchin’. ”
    I almost smile. She’s tossed out the attack option and is now playing the intimidation card. I have to admire this girl’s street smarts. But I’d better not admire her for too long. Time is running short.
    â€œHere’s the deal. I can get you out of here,” I say.
    â€œSo what?” she says. “You get me out, they round me up again. Unless you can get me off this stinkin’ tub I ain’t interested.”
    â€œOff the ship? What about your father?”
    She laughs hard. “You bought that story? I ain’t got no policeman daddy. But my mom’s the queen of England, and if you touch me, she’ll send the Mounties after you.”
    â€œThe Mounties are Canadian,” I say.
    â€œWhat’s your point?” she says, looking bored now.
    â€œI can get you off,” I say.
    She holds a ragged fingernail up to the light, studies it and says, “Where’s the catch, Jack?”
    â€œYou’ve got to come with me to where I work. Peacefully. No biting, scratching or fighting. And when we get there, if my boss or anyone asks, tell them I kidnapped you.”
    She hoots with laughter and then says, “Where’s your office?”
    â€œNew York City.”
    Her eyes light up for a second and then she narrows them to slits. “I’ll do it for a hundred bucks.”
    I rapidly calculate how much cash I’ve got on me. Forty bucks and maybe three dollars in change, tops.
    â€œNever mind,” I say, “I’ll try the girl in the jail cell down the hall.” I begin to make as if I’m leaving.
    She shrugs her shoulders, lies down on the floor, sticks a hand inside her shirt and pulls out five rings and a sparkling necklace. “Suit yourself,” she says, trying the rings on. “I kind of like it here anyway. Got my own room . . .”
    I’m running out of time. I root around in my pocket and pluck out a twenty.
    â€œThis is the best I can do. I can give you another twenty when we get where we’re going . . . and I’ll pay for all transportation,” I throw in.
    â€œI dunno,” she says, examining the bill. “How do I know you aren’t scamming me? That when we get there, you won’t take off?”
    Heat is rising in my cheeks. Maybe I should forget this whole thing and go snatch some six-year-old from her bed. But I know I could never do that.
    â€œI guess you’ll have to trust me on that,” I say.
    She studies me for a long moment. “All right. Lead on, Jack.”
    â€œAnd since we’re going to be traveling together, you can call me by my name. It’s Caleb.”
    â€œOkay. And you can call me Queen Beatrice the Third. But if that’s too long for you, Jack, some people call me Razor.”
    â€œRazor?”
    â€œYeah. It’s ’cause I’m a sharp dresser.” She sniggers. “By the way, I’ll be needing a snack soon.”
    There’s a knock on the door.
    â€œDon’t know why they bother knockin’,” Razor says. “I mean, there’s no way I can open it.”
    A voice comes over the intercom. “I’m Dr. Posner. Can I speak with you for a few moments?”
    She rolls her eyes and mouths the word
shrink.
    â€œSorry, Doctor. The place is a mess,” Razor says looking at me. “I wasn’t