The Greatest Lie Part 5

I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breath, and all I could see was this moron’s ugly mouth reciting this sick mantra, and the twinkling stars above mocking me. I closed my eyes and let myself drift toward death. First sound, then sight, then feeling, and then the smell of the Mississippi receded, and I was left alone with the flickering light of my consciousness gradually dimming. I was dying, but at least I was dying as a girl who had tried to do the right thing.

But death was not what I expected. It announced itself with three loud bangs. The slamming of the doors of hell? Then I felt wet lips on mine and warm, wet air fill my lungs. I felt a slap on my face and heard the insistent calling of my name. I looked up and saw the familiar face of Bo, breathing into my mouth and in between breaths, calling my name. I was alive. And beside me, with three bullets in his brain, lay Mr. Country Music.

I never did figure out if Keyes had planned to let Country Music kill me before making his bust. He said it was accidental, the result of insufficient planning. Of course, Bo, who had been tipped off by Tran, managed to track us to the killing ground and beat Country Music to the trigger. When the police finally searched his place in Fargo, they found Polaroids of seven dead T-Girls: the four from Minneapolis and one each from New York, Chicago and LA. I would have been number eight.

I was up all night with the cops, giving statements and answering questions. I barely staggered into to Starbucks in time for my morning latte with Rick and Randy. "OK," demanded Rick "Let’s hear your excuse this time." Oh god, please, I thought, don’t get me started.