Greatest Hits Mysteries Boxed Set (Books 1-4)

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Greatest Hits Mysteries Boxed Set (Books 1-4) Page 58

by Langtry, Leslie


  Jackson, as usual, added his take. “We thought something was up.” He left out the fact that they knew Isaac had been taken as a challenge and was actually in no danger. My kids were good at playing dumb.

  Isaac started. “Some guy was leading me into the jungle and I thought I was just doing what everyone else was. Then the moron ties me up and tells me the others have to find me or I’m off the show. Your boys came along and found me and brought me here.”

  I looked around the shack. Crumpled and deflated bags and boxes that once held a delirious array of junk food peppered the corners. On my left was the generator-run mini fridge I’d invented for my workshop. On top of that was a Playboy magazine.

  “You two have been living here?” I shrieked. “I thought you said you were staying at the Tigre!” All this time I thought I was the only liar. My kids trumped me! Not like it was the first time, but it still bit.

  Monty shook his head. “We did have a room at the Tigre. But we also made up this place to hang out.”

  My eyes widened as I looked around the seedy building. “You made this?”

  Jack nodded proudly. “Yup. We found some scrap wood and put it all together using paperclips.”

  “And my fridge?”

  The boys looked at each other. “Well,” Monty said, “we needed someplace to put the pop.”

  It took only two steps before I was able to yank open the door. If I found beer in there, they were going to suffer. Slamming the door shut and grateful that there were only two pop cans and a water bottle inside, my rage was still boiling.

  “And that?” I pointed to the magazine. On the cover was a dazed-looking blonde, half-naked in a library. She looked as though she was about to say, ‘Oh! I didn’t see you there! It was getting hot in here so I had to remove a few articles of clothing. Is that all right?’

  Isaac turned away to hide a grin. Men. Monty and Jack froze. I’m not a prude, but I don’t like that crap. It’s hard enough raising teenage boys. And I understand their curiosity about the female body. But the thing about these rags is that they don’t show real women. Blonde Librarian looked like she’d had everything done but her eyelashes. And we are not giggling idiots either!

  The boys hung their heads. “Sorry, Mom.”

  For a moment, I debated the idea of letting them drown in an expletive-strewn stream of feminist dogma (swear-jar be damned). But then I remembered that they had Isaac and we had to get him back to the resort to call off the search party.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” I hissed through my teeth at my young. “We need to get Isaac back before they call out the Costa Rican national whatever.”

  “That’s just it, Mom.” Jack protested. “He’s in hiding right now – since the kidnapping stunt.”

  “That’s why we brought him here instead of returning him to you,” Monty answered as if Isaac was a missing lump of head cheese.

  I spun around. “Why are you in hiding? Can’t we just go back?”

  Isaac shook his head. “Not yet. I have to make sure you guys are safe. The man I’m dealing with is very dangerous. You could get hurt just by being with me.”

  I held my breath to keep from laughing. Yeah, right. We needed protection from him. If Isaac had a clue, he’d realize the three of us Bombays were far deadlier.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “I’m on a case,” Isaac said using the typical vernacular these guys used on civilians. “One of the castaways is an international arms dealer.”

  “What? Who?” Was he joking? Uh oh. The Bombays had the wrong guy! I almost killed the wrong guy! But who was the right guy?

  At that instant, the door crashed open and in walked my friend Moe, carrying a submachine gun. Huh, Moe wasn’t really the washed-up loser he led us all to believe he was. I guess I’d really, really misjudged him.

  Moe grinned, this time a sickly leer. “Thanks for the lead, Missi. I never would’ve found him if not for you.”

  “You followed me? How?” How did I miss a three hundred-pound man behind me? I have got to work on my skills.

  He reached over and plucked a ladybug off of my tote bag. At least I thought it was a bug.

  “Tracked you. I knew you’d find him.”

  Ah. The old ladybug-that-wasn’t-a-ladybug trick. How did I fall for that one? I make them to look like flies. Far more believable than a pansy ladybug.

  Moe punched Isaac with the butt of his gun, causing him to double over. “I’ve been trying to lose this son-of-a-bitch for two years.”

  He turned the gun toward Isaac. “Tie him up,” he told me. Moe kicked a length of rope toward me. “Then tie up your brats.”

  Well, that’s just great. I hate it when someone throws rope at me and tells me to tie up my own sons. Isaac sat down in front of me, demonstrating compliance and I tied his hands behind him. I was still in shock. Moe? Seriously?

  Moe shoved Jackson toward me and Monty sat next to him. “Pretty clever – having your sons infiltrate the show. You probably could’ve won with a strategy like that.”

  I said nothing as I tied first Jackson, then Monty, hoping my silence would encourage him to talk. Of course, he didn’t know I was using a special knot I’d invented when I was ten. It looked like a real nasty mess but in truth it fell away when you pulled the left tail. Monty and Jack gave me the thumbs up behind their backs, indicating they knew what I’d done.

  “I didn’t want you to get hurt, Missi,” Moe continued, but not saying what I wanted him to. “I thought I could just lay low here for a while. Of course, if I knew this bastard was who he was from the beginning, I’d have killed him and moved on. Once my contacts at the Blanco Tigre told me he was Interpol, I put it all together.”

  “Uh, if you knew someone was tailing you for two years, how come you didn’t know who he was?” Maybe that was a tad impertinent.

  Moe sneered and turned the gun on Isaac. “I guess I’m not as smart as he thinks I am.”

  “Don’t kill him,” I said slowly, stalling for time. “Just leave us here and run.” Then I almost laughed picturing a man as big as him running. I didn’t really expect him to take my advice. It was just something to say.

  Moe shook his head. “Too late. I tried laying booby-traps but nothing worked. That damned zip line was beautiful. I had the wrong team on the right line, but those are just details. And then you screwed it all up.”

  “You are the saboteur?” I couldn’t believe it. Big, clumsy, doofus Moe.

  He paused and stared at me for a moment. “You thought I was a nobody, didn’t you?” He seemed surprised. “I must’ve done a good job fooling everyone.”

  “No, I wasn’t fooled.” Yes, I was. He did a great job.

  “It doesn’t matter anyway because now I have too many witnesses.” Moe leveled the gun at my head. Nasty way to die – having your skull split by machine gun fire. A bit overly dramatic if I say so.

  “Knock it off. Kill me but leave the Miss and boys alone.” Isaac was dead calm.

  I rolled my eyes. “Puhleese! Don’t give us that alpha male macho save-the-women-and-children-first schtick!” I pointed at the magazine. “You know, both of you, it’s hard enough to raise two boys without all the chauvinistic messages out there! Do you guys even think before you speak?”

  Isaac and Moe looked at each other. They didn’t appear to have the same mind-reading skills my boys did.

  “Missi,” Isaac started. “This isn’t the best time to. . .”

  “Oh, and I suppose it’s okay to act like a gorilla when a woman is in danger. Is that it? Because I can take care of myself.”

  Monty and Jack were looking at each other as if to say, ‘mental note – Mom needs Midol.”

  “And you two!” I turned toward my whelps. “Women don’t want to be rescued! We’re not airheads and we don’t wear garters and stockings anymore!” Okay, even I wasn’t sure where this was going.

  “Enough!” Moe screamed. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He pointed at me. “I have
a gun! That means I’m in charge and I don’t need a feminist bullshit lecture from you!”

  I crossed my arms and said. “Fine! The floor is yours, Moe. If that’s your real name.”

  “Um, no. What kind of international criminal mastermind would I be if I used my own name? Not a very good one, I can tell you that.”

  Isaac growled. “His name is Brad Underwood. A real, first-class asshole.”

  Oh boy. Here we go again. I could just picture the two of them in puffy shirts and breeks, slashing at each other with fencing foils.

  Moe raised an eyebrow. “You knew more than you let on. How nice.”

  “And he’s responsible for supplying terrorists of fifteen third-world countries with all the weapons they need to kill innocent people.”

  Great. Just great. The Council had given me the wrong guy.

  I watched as the boys gently tugged at the knots in unison. Man, they did everything in perfect sync. Now that I thought about it, it was kind of weird. But then, this wasn’t really your average situation.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “Old MacDonald had a farm, ee-i-ee-i-o. And on that farm he shot some guys . . .”

  - McManus, The Usual Suspects

  Moe leveled his gun at Isaac, but for some reason didn’t pull the trigger.

  “Just shut up,” Moe snapped. He was silent as he weighed his options. Unfortunately, I was convinced that each of those options included five four lifeless bodies. And I couldn’t allow that.

  Moe held the submachine gun in a solid grip about mid-torso. Rushing him wouldn’t be a good idea because he could mow us down in seconds. Usually, the old adage is ‘rush a gun, run from a knife.’ In this case it was too risky. I had to do something and fast.

  “I can’t believe I fell for that whole useless-fat-guy-who-is-really-an-evil-genius ploy!” I shouted dramatically. “You really had me going, thinking you lived in your mom’s basement, was unemployed and ignorant!”

  Monty shot me a look that said, um, Mom, what are you doing? I ignored him.

  “Wow. You really had me and everyone else fooled!” I slapped my forehead with cartoonish exaggeration but tried to keep sarcasm out of my voice. Moe looked at me quizzically, uncomprehending. At least he took the gun off of Isaac.

  “Although you must admit, you were pretty convincing,” I added loudly. “I mean look at you! Who lets themselves go like that in order to go underground! That must have taken some real willpower on your part. Pretty impressive!”

  Moe looked at me as if I was nuts, as if he couldn’t figure out whether I was insulting or complimenting him. And that’s what I wanted. It was time for Crazy Missi to take over.

  “I mean you really had to work at putting on all that weight and acting that stupid. How much did you have to eat to get so fat?”

  “Um, what are you getting at?” Moe asked cautiously.

  “Oh! Am I stealing your thunder by monologing for you? It’s just that I’ve never met an international criminal and I never ever would’ve guessed you were one. Good job!”

  Moe’s eyes went back and forth like a computer that couldn’t make something compute. Like in War Games. Remember that movie? Where Matthew Broderick asked the super-enormous computer to play tic-tack-toe until it wins – shutting it down in the process? I love that film.

  “I always thought people like you were tall, dark and gorgeous, with a devious mind and nerves like steel. You sure had us all fooled.” I was starting to worry that I was going too far.

  “Listen, bitch!” Moe sputtered. “Shut up before I kill you first!”

  “That’s interesting! Keep us all guessing about who would be more valuable to kill first. You should write a book!” I sounded completely sincere, which confused him. Confuse-a-criminal. Maybe I’ll trademark that phrase.

  What was my strategy? Well, Lex and Sami were heading in this direction now that they hadn’t found Isaac on the golf course since, obviously, he was right here. Talking loudly might get their attention. Talking like a madwoman was just to buy time. And for fun. In spite of the danger, it was a little fun.

  I watched as both Monty and Jack slipped the loose ropes into their grip. Smart boys.

  A twig cracked outside, and Moe spun toward it firing wildly. Taking advantage of the distraction, Monty and Jack sprang from the floor and tackled him. The big man went down like a sack of potatoes.

  The door opened very slowly and I ran to it. To my horror, Sami staggered in, bleeding heavily from the shoulder.

  “Dumbass!” Was all she said as she slipped to the floor, unconscious.

  Lex rushed into the room as I pulled Isaac’s knot loose behind him. Lex kicked Moe in the head as Isaac removed the gun from his grip.

  It was over. And we’d all survived it. A moan from the floor caught my attention, and I knelt beside Sami. A quick examination showed that while no internal organs were hit, she was bleeding fast. Too fast. The boys were busy making sure Moe was tied up securely and Isaac had his gun trained on the man.

  “Lex,” I said and he turned to face me. “I need your belt and shirt.” Lex didn’t hesitate to pull off his clothes. I folded up the t-shirt to cover the wound and tied it on tightly with his belt. It wasn’t that good a tourniquet but it was all I had.

  “We have to move her,” I said, even though I knew we shouldn’t. It was very dangerous. But she was more likely to get medical help back at the resort than here in the middle of nowhere.

  At my direction, Lex tore several planks of wood off the shack walls (shirtless and looking soooooo hot as he did so) and using the leftover rope, we managed to stabilize Sami. Using the invention as a makeshift cot, Lex and I carefully moved toward the trail. Isaac pushed Moe ahead of him while Jackson held one end of his bonds. Monty, my lean and lithe boy, ran like hell to the Blanco Tigre to try to advance the assistance.

  Isaac, Jack and their prisoner moved faster than we did, but I wasn’t pushing it. Sami had lost a lot of blood. Lex walked in front, with me in the back. She remained unconscious for a while, then started coming to, babbling incoherently about the unlikely sexual relationship between a chicken and a dog. Finally she passed out again.

  Lex’s naked back distracted me to no end. The man had an awesome back – muscular in all the right places but not overly so. I shook my head to clear it.

  “Why did you come looking for me?” I asked.

  He said nothing for a moment. “I had to make sure you were alright.”

  “I’m sorry I was such a jerk,” I started. “I really didn’t mean those things I’d said to Dr. Andy. Especially not about you.”

  Lex spoke slowly, “No, I’m an asshole. I should never have accused you of destroying the show.”

  Neither of us said much else for the rest of the way. We simply focused on getting Sami back safely. It was a tough trip. In spite of Sami’s lean physique, my arms ached as I carried my half of the liter.

  We were met at the end of the trail by two paramedics, who took over carrying Sami to the ambulance. Lex and I walked through the staring resort dwellers (we probably looked pretty weird, covered in blood and Lex without a shirt) up to the conference center, where Julie ushered us into the room we’d been in earlier.

  I looked around the conference room – which was full of television producers, policemen and what I assumed were network attorneys (they were wearing lawyerly shoes – dead giveaway). No one seemed to notice Lex, me or the boys. All the focus was on Isaac and Moe.

  Monty and Jack hugged me, then went over to watch the chaos. I turned to Lex, and his muscular, naked chest.

  “I’m sorry about your shirt and belt,” I offered.

  Lex smiled. “You can have the pants too, if you want.”

  That was all it took for me to dive into his arms. Lex kissed the top of my head. Whatever happened next didn’t really matter, as long as this moment would last forever.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  “Hey, where’d you get that piano?”

  - Plankton
, Sponge Bob Squarepants

  It took hours for us to sort things out. The boys disappeared, returning twenty minutes later with a Blanco Tigre shirt for Lex. He laughed as he took it from them.

  “Dude, seriously, put a shirt on before Mom goes crazy.” Monty grinned. I smacked him.

  Lex pulled the shirt over his head. “No more mangoes?” He asked the boys. I guess he’d figured it out.

  Jack laughed. “No more mangoes. We promise.”

  The police were just hauling off Moe, taking the last few bits of Isaac’s statement. In the opposite corner, a red-faced Alan and worn-out Julie were being grilled by the network execs. I wondered how they got here so fast?

  Ernie joined us, pressing a cup of coffee into our hands. “They flew down yesterday to check the show out. Brought a whole team of accountants with them to investigate what was going on.”

  “They find anything?” Isaac asked as he joined us.

  Bert shrugged beside Ernie. “About one hundred grand used for all kinds of kinds of deviant behavior.”

  Ernie nodded. “They even found receipts for an in-room donkey show.”

  Ick. I didn’t even want to think about that.

  “So what happens now with the contest?” I asked, thinking about Dr. Andy, Lex and Sami.

  Both cameramen shook their heads. “It’s over. The accountants have locked up the prize money.”

  “That’s not fair! You dragged us all here and after what we’ve gone through you aren’t going to even award the prize money?”

  Bert backed off. “Don’t blame us! We have nothing to do with it.”

  “Will the show even air?” Lex asked.

  “Afraid not. The attorneys are too afraid of litigation. No one will ever see this footage.” Then Bert and Ernie walked away.

  I looked at Lex and Isaac. Well, this was fucked up, as Sami would say if she were here.

  “Look,” Lex started. “It doesn’t matter. Isaac got his man and I got you. It’s okay.”

 

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