The whole thing was strange—too strange to make complete sense—but too tempting to pass up. Crow smirked and exchanged a look with his half-drunk friends. Greed and lust showed plainly on their faces.
They didn’t see a calculating avenger. They saw easy entertainment. “Didn’t know you had that kind of spark in you, Mrs. Carter,” Crow said with a leering grin. “So where exactly are we headed? Your place?”
Helen gave a dry little smile. “You’re not setting foot in my apartment. I’m not bringing you into the place where my daughter lived. But I know somewhere quiet where nobody will bother us.
The old mill warehouse. I know you spend time there.” That settled it for them.
If she knew their spot, then she had been watching them and meant what she said. The men got up lazily from the table, tossed down money for the drinks, and, crowding around Helen, headed for the door. The whole bar watched them go in stunned silence.
No one knew exactly what they were seeing, but everyone felt something bad was coming. Once outside, the odd little group moved through the dark, empty streets. Crow swaggered a few steps ahead.
Brute lumbered beside Helen, smelling of sweat and beer. Birdie trailed behind, giggling nervously. Along the way they made crude jokes and tried to put their hands on her shoulders, but each time Helen removed them without a word…
