The Shop on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #1)(49)

Her imagination was running away with her, Jacqueline decided. She’d watched one too many episodes of CSI. Still, her fear persisted, growing more intense by the moment. But she had to get to her car. What alternative did she have? It was either that or stand here all morning.

She was no more than twenty feet from her Mercedes when two men stepped out from the shadows. They loomed in front of her, half-obscured by the darkness. Menacing. She couldn’t see their faces clearly but she saw their sneers. They were street people, she thought, unkempt and filthy.

“What do we have here?” one called to the other, who moved quickly to block her exit.

Jacqueline broke into a cold sweat. Instinct told her to run, but she feared her legs were about to collapse. And in her heels, she had little chance of escaping if they decided to chase her.

“Kindly get out of my way,” she demanded and was rather pleased with her bravado.

“Kindly,” the second man, the taller of the two, echoed in a falsetto voice, raising his right arm and dangling his wrist. “We got ourselves a genuine lady here.”

“High society.”

“Lots of money.”

“Now give it up, bitch.”

Jacqueline clutched her purse tighter against her side. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Never could refuse a dare, could we, Larry?”

“Shut up,” the other man shouted, obviously angry that his friend had said his name. He pulled out a switchblade and brandished it in front of Jacqueline.

Despite her determination to remain calm, she gasped. The blade gleamed in what little light had broken through the alley.

He held out his arm as if he expected her to meekly hand over her purse, and Jacqueline realized this wasn’t a request but a command. Any resistance would surely be met with violence.

Although she wasn’t aware she’d released it, her designer bag fell to the asphalt.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” a brusque female voice shouted from behind Jacqueline. “Aren’t you on probation, Ralph? Be a real shame to see your sorry ass back in jail so soon.”

It took Jacqueline a moment to recognize Alix Townsend’s voice. Alix, the girl she considered a felon and a crude punk rocker, had risked her own life and come to her rescue.

“Stay out of this,” Larry growled, baring his teeth at the two women.

“Sorry, guys,” Alix said, waltzing forward, “but this lady happens to be a good friend of mine.”

Jacqueline stayed where she was, incapable of moving. Even her breathing had gone shallow.

Larry looked at the purse. “You want her for yourself,” he muttered. He clenched the knife tighter and raised it.

A clicking sound followed but the noise didn’t immediately register in Jacqueline’s mind. Then she understood. Alix carried a switchblade of her own.

“They can have the money.” Jacqueline didn’t care; she just wanted both of them out of this mess without getting hurt.

“No, they can’t,” Alix yelled as the two men started toward them. “Get over to the yarn store.”

“No.” Jacqueline didn’t know where she found the courage, but she scooped up her purse and swung it wildly at the two men. She’d paid seven hundred dollars for the Gucci bag and it served her well, connecting with a solid crunch against the shorter man’s head. Ralph howled with pain.

“What’s going on back here?” Lydia shouted from the rear door of her shop.

“Call 9-1-1,” Jacqueline screamed, panic raising her voice.

Alix crouched forward, her arms outstretched with a switchblade firmly gripped in her left hand. The men looked at the two women and at the empty door frame where Lydia had stood only seconds earlier. They glanced at each other and then ran for it, racing past Jacqueline and Alix.

As soon as they were out of sight, Jacqueline started to shake. The trembling began in her hands, and quickly moved down her arms and legs until it seemed that her knees had taken on a life of their own.

“Are you okay?” Alix asked.

Jacqueline shook her head.

“The police are on their way,” Lydia called.

“Larry and Ralph are gone now.” Alix wrapped her arm around Jacqueline’s waist and guided her through the back door of Lydia’s shop.

The table where they sat for their classes seemed a mile away before Jacqueline reached it and literally fell into a chair.

“I…I could’ve been murdered.” She’d seen the look in those men’s eyes. God only knew what they would’ve done to her if Alix hadn’t come into the alley when she had.

“Alix,” she gasped. “You saved my life.” In that moment, Jacqueline wanted to call back every ugly thought she’d ever had regarding the young woman. She didn’t care what color Alix dyed her hair. The girl had saved her from a fate she could hardly imagine.

Alix sat down next to her, and Jacqueline soon noticed that she was badly shaken, too. She’d put on a brave front when she confronted the two men, but she’d been terrified.

A siren blared outside and Lydia dashed to the front of the store to wait for the patrolmen. A few minutes later, two police officers entered the shop.

All three women started talking at once. Jacqueline felt she should be the one to explain; she was the one who’d been accosted, after all. She continued speaking, raising her voice in order to be heard above the other two.