The Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries 1-3

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The Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries 1-3 Page 63

by Alexie Aaron


  "I never really thought about it. I guess I just sort of rushed in to take advantage of his offer." Dwayne shook his head as to clear it. "Wait, Bill has a couple of crop-dusting planes. He could have them there."

  "Not there but at Belle Glade. Okay, now you're sure this Bill Metts called you."

  "Yes."

  "It wasn't anyone masquerading as him?"

  "No, yes, no, how would I know? I only met the man a couple of times." Dwayne twisted uncomfortably in the bed.

  "Is there anything else you can tell us about your ordeal?"

  "The bastard that kept kicking me at the cabin kept telling me that I better cooperate or all the children would die. All I could think about was the kids." Dwayne's fist balled up. "Cin, I swear if I ever... Hold on." Dwayne held up his hand as if it helped him bring clarity. I can tell you why I didn't think twice that Bill was genuine, because it was him that donated the buses to the school. The only bump in the deal was that the school would let his church use the vehicles from time to time as long as it didn't interfere with the school day."

  "I’ve a feeling that Manuel was..."

  "He came from one of Bill's farms," Dwayne filled in. "My God, sorry Father, if I had any inkling that accepting those buses would put the children in danger. I would have never done it."

  "Dwayne, I want you to rest. If the feds come back, tell them everything you told me. I'm going to have to leave before they get here. They don't like me much. The kids are safe. We had someone there all day." I got up to leave and sat right back down as there was a commotion in the hall.

  "What do you mean? I was told to put the woman in 351B!" an outraged Betty explained. "Okay, I'll go get her, but you better not blame it on me, no way, ah no, not me." She huffed into the room, grabbed my chair and wheeled me out of the room right past the guard, right past a suit and down the hall into the elevator, all the while keeping up her pissed off Latina persona.

  The doors closed, and I jumped up and hugged her.

  "Careful, honey, we're not out of the woods yet."

  "You have to call Michael and tell him that Bill Metts, a local farmer, is at the root of all of this. Have him find out what kind of planes he owns. I think we'll find out that they’re at Belle Glade right now."

  "How sure are you?"

  "Very sure. As soon as I get dressed and Harry catches up, I'll call Dave. We need those priests, now." The doors opened and I ran down the hall.

  It was a bit of a miracle that I didn't get caught and more of a miracle that my clothes were still in the bathroom. Someone, however, had stolen my shoes. They weren't good shoes. I wore them deliberately so no one would want them and they would be there when I got back. Probably someone with a foot fetish. Well, I hoped they got some kind of fungus for their trouble.

  I got into the car and pulled it around. I had driven barefoot before. It was against the law, but I hoped that I wouldn't be breaking any traffic laws on my way back to the house. Harry strolled out of the door still in character.

  "Come on, Father, move yer arse," I yelled in my best Cockney accent.

  "Cute, very cute," Harry said, getting in. "Where are your shoes? Oh never mind, I should know better."

  "Get on your phone and call Buslowski. Tell him what we know," I said, pulling out into traffic. The sun had gone down and we were behind the ball. "Tell him I think that they’ll reposition the planes tonight. The airport doesn't have a control tower. Betty will have briefed Michael by the time we get home."

  Harry was speaking on the phone, so I shut up and let him handle it. I concentrated on my driving, and soon we were pulling into the driveway and into the garage. Betty pulled in right after us, and we all hurried inside to regroup.

  Michael was in the den typing furiously into the computer. "They already flew two planes out of Belle Glade. The county guys watched them do it." He was studying the screen for a moment and picked up the phone and dialed. "Thomas, Metts has got three properties listed, but only one has a blacktop road long enough adjacent to the property. 1532 South County Line Road. I don't know, use the OnStar."

  "Where are they now?"

  "They don't know. They were following the plane’s lights and then lost them."

  "What's OnStar?"

  "It's a navigation communication device, all the expensive cars have them," Harry supplied.

  "What are they driving?"

  "Lexus."

  "How does a priest afford a Lexus?" I asked to no one in particular as I left the room. I needed a change in clothing and to find some shoes as I was going out hunting for the planes. I would look at places that weren't necessarily paved but firm enough to land a plane in. You didn't need pavement, but they would need clearance and security. And I wouldn't need OnStar. I had county road maps. Sometimes paper beats technology.

  "Where are you going?" Harry asked from the doorway.

  "We're going to look for those planes."

  "We as in..."

  "You and me."

  Harry's face lit up. "It's a big county, but I bet we'll find them."

  "How can you be so sure?" I said, lacing up a boot.

  "Because you used to work out there, and you're wearing your lucky boots."

  "Okay, so why do you think these are my lucky boots?"

  "Because those are the boots you brought back from England. They are the only footwear to survive your trip, hence, lucky boots.

  "How ever do you remember all this?"

  "I’m very observant. I think, as detectives, I should be Sherlock and you Watson," he said and narrowly missed getting clobbered with my other boot.

  There was no time for that, so I picked up my boot and put it on after securing my “mean knife” and ran out of the room. I stopped briefly to tell Michael what we were up to. Betty had already left for parts unknown. Michael would coordinate and update us all.

  "I'm driving, you're mapping." I tossed Harry a penlight I took from Luke's stash. "And if we live through tonight, we’re going to have a little talk about being detectives." I backed out of the driveway and sped off into the night. I shook my head thinking, “Watson never drove such a hot carriage.”

  I had always dreamed of speeding down State Road Seven. Well, tonight I passed ninety without blinking. I would have to slow down once we left the highway, but until then I was going to let the little roadster have the road.

  "Where are we going?" Harry asked, pulling his seatbelt tighter

  "To the airport to get your jeep. This car isn't going to be any good to us where we're going. I hope you have gas in it?"

  "Dave filled it up," Harry said smugly and added, "If it's my car then I'm driving. Shit! Are you really going 105?"

  "I'm not sure the gauge is accurate at this speed. Where was I? The jeep. Of course you'll drive the jeep. It's manual."

  "And you don't know how to drive a manual. Slow down, the turn's right up here," he cautioned.

  Harry was right. I almost didn't slow in time, and things looked so different in the dark. We hung a right and headed for the airport. My phone rang, and I handed it to Harry.

  "Hello?" Harry answered. "Luke, Cin's driving right now. Can she call you back? No, Luke, Cin's driving really fast right now. Okay." Harry handed me the phone.

  "Hi, what's up?" I said.

  "I called home first and there was another man there." Luke didn't seem in a good mood at the moment. He didn't really like talking through Harry. It tended to piss him off.

  "That would be Father Michael."

  "I know who it was, but why he was is the question."

  "Okay, let me bring you up to speed. Can you talk or are you on your way to something?" I pulled into the airport and parked next to the jeep. I got out while motioning Harry to park the BMW out of sight but someplace safe.

  "I'm all ears."

  "Well, we went back to the airport and Dave followed. Dave Buslowski followed us and then decided to follow..."

  "This is going to take a long time. Let's skip to why you're
out driving, driving fast, with Harry."

  "Oh, we went to get his jeep. He left it at the airport."

  "Does it still have all its tires?"

  I walked around the vehicle. "One, two, three, four and five. Yes, and they've all got air."

  "Did you resolve the air show problem?"

  "Sixty percent." I stammered, "Ah, let me ask you something?"

  "Go ahead."

  "How low do you have to fly to stay under radar?"

  "Low. And it’s pretty tough to go around power lines and palm trees, water towers. You would have to be experienced and know the area."

  "How about a crop-duster?"

  I heard him sigh. "No problem, but I thought you thought that the terrorists were going to jump out of a plane?"

  "I was wrong."

  "Tell me the feds know what's going on."

  "Oh, they know, they’re just slow. The bastards already moved the planes. They're ready for tomorrow, and the feds are still working on today."

  "Cin, if they’re going to spray the crowd then you better make sure you’re nowhere near any of those planes."

  "We can't find the planes, Luke."

  "So, you and Harry are out looking for them?"

  "I promise if we find them, we aren't going to do anything but run away and call in the cavalry."

  "Is this an ex-husband-placating promise?"

  "More or less."

  "Thought so. Tell you what. I'm due in tomorrow morning. If you haven't found them by then I'll take you up, and we'll search together."

  "It's a deal." I pressed end and wondered if I’d actually promised anything.

  Harry ran up, and we got in the jeep and headed off to check out the two farms Michael hadn't sent the priests to.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  “Are you sure this is a road?" Harry asked as we hit an enormous car-swallowing pothole.

  "Yes, unfortunately the cane trucks travel it also."

  "And how do you know about cane trucks?"

  "I told you I used to work for the USDA/NRCS. That stands for..."

  "I know what it stands for. But you were an office manager. Doesn't that mean you stayed in the office?"

  "The office was boring and so..."

  "Say no more, you took every opportunity to get away from it."

  "Even if it meant slogging through muck fields. I learned so much from guys like Sugar Booger and the others. We had this range expert... gorgeous. And don't let me mislead you, being in the office was fine when the boss was there. Southern boy that could recite Tennyson, now that was interesting."

  "Okay enough memory lane. Where the hell are we?"

  "We’re coming to a T, and according to the map we need to turn left," I instructed.

  "You want to remind me why we picked this farm?"

  "It's the closest," I said. "The other one is on the southwest side of the Lake. The fathers are supposedly heading for the one by the MacGregar sugar mill. We'll check this one out first. I betcha they're lost. There's no way OnStar has half these roads."

  Harry turned left, and soon we passed an abandoned filling station. There were as many abandoned filling stations here in this part of Florida as Sandhill cranes. It's was almost impossible for a small business to make it out there.

  "Take the next right and kill your lights."

  "Are you trying to kill us?" Harry asked but obeyed.

  He slowed his speed, and we cruised by the opening to Metts Sod Farm. Hopefully, no one was outside because even though we had the lights out, you could still hear engine noise. I put my hand on Harry's arm and pointed to the vast openness of the grass field. It was so large that you could see the faint lights of Wellington in the distance. The half moon wasn't the light one would wish for, but I could just make out two shapes in the far east field. In the middle of that field sat two small aircraft.

  "Keep going, don't stop," I whispered as if my voice would carry from the road over several acres to the office. I looked down at my cell and thanked God that I had several bars. I waited until we were a mile down the road before I called.

  Michael picked up on the first ring. "Hello?"

  "Michael, it's Cin. Harry and I found the planes. They’re at Metts Sod Farm. They're just sitting out in the open in one of his sod fields. I think you better call the big boys."

  "Did you see anyone there?"

  "No, but it doesn't mean there isn't anyone there."

  "Where are you now?"

  "A mile north of the farm. I don't want to spook them. Hang on. Harry, put on your lights, we're coming to an intersection. Shit!"

  "What's going on?" Michael all but shouted into the phone.

  "Michael, we just passed a landscape truck. I hope they didn't recognize Harry's jeep, bad enough that we were driving without lights." I turned around in my seat and saw the truck doing a U turn. "Listen, get someone out here now! Harry and I will do our best not to blow our cover."

  Harry reached over and pulled me close to him. "Lean in and pretend you're my girlfriend."

  I did as he suggested, and I thought I did an amazing job of suppressing my gag reflex as the truck closed in on us. They pulled over in the other lane and passed us slowly. Harry's hand was on my knee, and I almost melded my body into his, no easy trick considering the bucket seat and shift stick on the floor.

  Harry looked over at the truck and someone hooted and said something derogatory that I didn't catch. I heard a low, "just some kids," and the truck slowed behind us. In the mirror I saw them slow to a stop and turn around and head back towards the farm.

  My phone vibrated on the floor where I dropped it. I picked it up. "Yeah."

  "What's going on?"

  "I think we did okay. But I can say that the Sod Farm's the place. How long till help arrives?"

  "Dave is calling it in now. This isn't the movies. It takes time."

  "We can't let them take off," I said to both Harry and Michael.

  "You and Harry stay put. Father Paul and Father Peter are three minutes from you. They’re airborne."

  "They'll hear a plane or helicopter."

  “Don’t worry, they’re too high up.”

  "What's going on?" Harry asked as he pulled over.

  "Evidently Father Peter and Paul are airborne," I explained. I thought I heard a distant droning of an engine.

  A soft flapping sound caught my attention. I looked up in time to see two enormous black shapes crossing the night sky. I tugged on Harry's sleeve and he looked up.

  "Black Para-Wings! Cool!"

  "I see them," I told Michael. "They just went overhead."

  "They'll do their best to keep the planes from taking off. I suggest you and Harry find a place upwind from there just as a precaution."

  I stuck my finger up and tried to figure out the wind. I was never good at stuff like this. "Where are Father Thomas and David?"

  "Lost."

  "Dead?" I barely croaked out.

  "No, lost. They’re so lost that they lost cell reception when I was talking to them."

  "I'd say that was lost." I turned to Harry. "We’re supposed to stay upwind from the farm. Which way is upwind?"

  Harry stepped down from the jeep and looked at the waving cane across the road. "Winds coming from the south, so we’re downwind at the moment."

  Michael must have heard him because he barked in the phone. "Get out of there!"

  "Harry..."I started when the sky exploded with lights and sound.

  "What's going on?" Michael asked. I handed the phone to Harry and got out of the jeep and walked into the center of the road where I could see. Harry and I were still a mile and a half away, but with Florida's flat topography I could see the silhouette of the farm’s larger buildings. However, a cane field blocked not only the sod fields but also what was happening on them. I heard gunfire and the sound of a small plane start up. I walked back to the jeep and got in.

  "Harry, I think we better move," I said as an explosion racked the air.


  Harry jumped in and tossed me the phone. I just stuck it in my pocket as Harry started up the jeep, and we started driving. Overhead we heard one of the crop dusters pass, and right behind it I heard an uncomfortable whizzing sound and the plane exploded and fell not a half mile north of the jeep. Harry turned the jeep around. We had no other choice but to try making the intersection as the dry cane field in front of us, fueled by the falling pieces of plane, burst into flames.

  We just made the intersection and turned west to give the burning fields and the activity on the farm a wide berth when we were almost run off the road by a retreating landscaping truck.

  "Harry, that's..." I didn't have to tell Harry. What I had to do was tell Michael. I dug him out of my pocket. He was still frantically calling my name. "Michael, one of the trucks from the farm just passed us going west on, hell, what's its name... Shit. I don't know. It's the first intersection north of the farm. We are following it, but I don't know how wise..."

  A bullet cracked the windscreen of the jeep. Harry looked at me and me at him. He stopped the jeep, and we watched the taillights of the truck fade into the night.

  "We aren't going anywhere near that truck, Michael. They’re firing on us."

  "Good stay there." He was gone. I could hear him relaying information to someone. All the while I was thinking, did he think it was good that we stopped or good that they were firing on us?

  "Cin! A Sheriff's car has the road blocked. They said the truck has turned back your way. Can you do anything to stop it?"

  "Aside from throwing sticks at it. Shit, Harry!"

  Harry had pulled the jeep across the road and grabbed me, and we started running into the sugar cane field. We no sooner got clear of the area when the sky lit up as the truck, that must have been carrying explosives, hit the jeep. I found myself flying forward once again, but this time there wasn't any water to break my fall. I hit the ground and Harry landed on top of me.

  I pushed Harry off me and got to my knees. I lost my cell phone in the blast. Harry groaned, and I ran my hands over him to first check if he was in one piece and also to find his phone.

  "What the hell happened?" Harry moaned.

  "Can you hear me?" I asked, searching his face.

  "Yes."

 

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