MISCHA REMOVED JOSETTE'S cell phone from her pocket. Then she stood up from her crouch as if she didn't have a care in the world and started talking into the cell phone and walking toward the back of the lot. The three women who had come into the garage after her were in their cars now. If they wondered where she'd come from, they didn't say anything. They just started their cars.382Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡh71eYI0RW4
Some more prison employees were spilling into the lot, just getting off, but she was ahead of them. She hoped that if any of them were even remotely inclined to speak with her, they would be less likely to do so if she were chatting on her cell phone.
As she approached the sprinkling of cars in the back, her pace slowed, and she scanned the cars' license plates.
Avec Amour, 354, Avec Amour.
There. She saw it. It was a blue compact. Apparently, it was a Clio. She knew a lot about cars, but she'd never heard of a Clio before. But she was sure this was Josette's car.
License plate AA-354-AA.
She got into the car. Turned it on. Some rock music on the stereo was cranked way up and startled the shit out of her. The car clock said 1:56 a.m.
The car was a stick shift. It'd been ages since she'd driven stick, but she'd have to make do. It wasn't as if she had a choice.
She drove toward the exit of the underground garage. She managed to fall in line behind one of the other guards, one who was driving a beige Toyota sedan. Good, because the three cars in front of her were going to show her the way out. Not soo good, because they weren't on her timetable. They were in a get-the hell-out-of-work hurry. Mischa was in a run-for-your-life hurry.
She followed the other three cars up the outgoing ramp. Idling on an incline is about the hardest thing to do when driving a stick shift, and she was out of practice. The car rocked to and fro as she balanced between gas and clutch, but she didn't have the rhythm down and the engine died. She swore under her breath and started the car up again, trying very hard not to panic, and this time she used the emergency brake when idling.
The guard in the first car reached out her window and swiped her card through a slot. The wooden arm lifted. So did the garage door. The first car drove out and the wooden arm lowered again. Everyone moved up a spot. Mischa let out the emergency brake, hit the gas too hard, lurched forward, and almost hit the car in front of her before slamming on the brake pedal and killing the engine.
"Motherfuck!" she hissed. Well, if at first you don't succeed....
She got the car running again and she didn't look ahead or in her rearview mirror. It didn't do any good to wonder if anyone was eyeballing her. Instead she looked at the clock. 1:58 a.m.
By the time the third car got out and it was her turn, it was 1:59 a.m.
She slid Josette's key card through the slot, the wooden arm lifted, the steel door rose, and she drove up and out onto the main road that led to the exit.382Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSvSJqcmJX2
So far, so good.382Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYopnnhuHKB
But now it was 2:00 a.m. And Mischa Barton was still inside the walls of JRF.382Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwsl89hMXmv
