Lou hadn’t been among the taunters. He believed in love at first sight.
Lou paused to glance at the flight information on the arrival board, his thoughts drifting back to his first kiss with Andi.
Another lifetime, he told himself.
Chapter Forty-two
The plane from St. Louis arrived twenty minutes before Ray’s plane, which gave Lou a chance to catch up on his children’s lives. He bought them both a chocolate milk shake and settled back for all the stories.
After they’d given him their news, Katie asked, “What about the statue, Daddy?”
He told them the story—from Wrigley Field through the helicopter heist, leaving out only the bungee-cord seduction of Gordie.
“Those jerks,” Kenny said, he faced flushed with anger.
“We’re trying to get her back,” Lou said.
“When’s the deadline?” Katie asked.
“The day after tomorrow.”
“That’s not fair,” Kenny said.
Lou nodded. “I know.”
“Can we help you get her back?” Katie asked.
Lou ran his fingers gently through her hair. “First we have to find out where she is.” He stood. “Come on, guys. Ray’s flight ought to be landing soon. He’s going to need our help.”
***
“Oh, my,” Katie said as Ray appeared in the opening to the jetway.
He was in a wheelchair—his broken leg propped up on the leg rest, his broken arm in a sling, his other arm bandaged. He had two black eyes and bandages on the back of his head. An airline employee was pushing the wheelchair, and Brandi followed behind.
Lou came up to him. “Hey, buddy.”
Ray glanced around. There were dozens of people looking at him while pretending not to. “Hey,” he said, “how the hell was I supposed to know her husband played linebacker for the Steelers?”
Two elderly women exchanged shocked expressions.
Katie and Kenny kept Ray company near the exit doors while Lou and Brandi went to get the van. By the time Lou drove up to the exit, his two kids were laughing hysterically at something Ray had said.
On the drive back to Barrett they talked about everything but Sirena. Billy was waiting outside the motel entrance when Lou drove up. He helped them get Ray set up in the room, which was on the second floor near the elevator. The motel had moved each of them to a new room along the same side of the second floor.
When Katie and Kenny saw the pool, they were more interested in swimming than eating. The rest of the group agreed to meet poolside in half an hour and order pizzas. Gordie was gone when they had returned from the airport. According to Billy, he was having dinner with Sally Jacobs, the new love of his life, but promised to come back afterward.
While Lou’s kids splashed in the water and the rest of them munched on pizza, Ray turned to the business at hand.
“Two days ago,” he said, “there was a five-hundred-dollar charge to Reggie’s Visa card. The payee is Hawthorn Aviation Corporation.”
“Which is what?” Lou asked.
“Not sure. Its offices are at Hawthorn Airport, which is about ten miles west of that inn where they’re staying.”
He handed Lou a map of western Massachusetts. The airport was circled in orange marker.
Ray said, “I’m guessing they’re going to do it by helicopter.”
Lou looked over at Billy. “Gordie’s due back when?”
“Eight.”
Lou checked his watch. It was almost seven-thirty. He stood up.
“Can you guys watch the kids a second?” he asked them.
“Sure,” Brandi said. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to call out there. See how late that airport is open tonight.”
When he returned, Ray asked, “Well?”
“Hawthorn Aviation is closed for the night,” Lou said, “but the airport’s open ’til ten. If you and Brandi are willing to babysit, we can go out there as soon as Gordie gets back.”
Chapter Forty-three
“But I need to talk to the pilot tonight,” Gordie told the bearded mechanic. “It’s extremely important. There’s been a change in plans. I need to give him the new schedule and explain it to him.”
Gordie was in the main hangar at Hawthorn Airport. On the drive to the airport they’d decided it was best to approach an airport employee, since chances were good that Frank and Reggie had made strict confidentiality a condition of their deal with Hawthorn Aviation. While an employee of Hawthorn Airport might not know the details of the deal with Hawthorn Aviation, he nevertheless might know of arrangements Hawthorn Aviation had made with the airport, especially any flight plans that had been filed.
The burly mechanic frowned. “Well, sir, it could be Bob or Rocky or Clint. I know all three are booked on the seventeenth.” He gestured toward the dark offices of Hawthorn Aviation Corporation. “If you come back tomorrow around nine I’m sure they’ll be able to tell you which one it is.”
“That’s the problem.” Gordie grimaced. “I’m not going to be around tomorrow. I’ve got to talk to the pilot tonight. He needs to know the change.”
“Jeez, buddy, I don’t know.” He scratched his beard as he pondered the issue. “Where are your friends flying?”
“Just around western Massachusetts. The charter is probably no more than a half day.”
The mechanic pursed his lips. “I suppose I could check the maintenance schedules.”
Gordie followed him to a metal desk in the corner of the hangar. The mechanic lifted a clipboard off the desktop and slowly paged through it.
He looked up at Gordie. “You say just flying around western Mass?”
Gordie nodded.
“How many in the party?”
“I think three, but one of them weighs at least two hundred pounds.”
The mechanic scratched his beard as he studied the schedules. “Well,” he finally said, “that pretty much narrows it to Rocky. Looks like Clint’s taking a load to Albany, and he’s out all day. Bob’s overnight to Canada with one passenger, so it ain’t him. It don’t say here where Rocky’s going, but it looks like a big load, and we got the plane due back by sundown.”
“Then Rocky’s the one,” Gordie said.
***
“How far is South Hadley?” Billy asked.
Gordie checked the map. “About a half-hour drive.”
“Should we call first?” Billy asked.
“No,” Lou shook his head. “If Rocky’s the one, we can assume he’s been sworn to secrecy. If we give him advance warning, he won’t see us.”
“What makes you think he’ll see us anyway?” Billy asked.
Lou pulled out of the airport parking lot. He paused at the exit and glanced over at Billy. “We’ve got about thirty minutes to come up with a good reason.”
Chapter Forty-four
It was almost ten o’clock when they pulled in front of 7111 Cornell Avenue in South Hadley, Massachusetts.
Gordie peered through the van window. “Lights are on. That’s good.”
Lou opened the car door. He looked back at Billy. “Grab the beer.”
They rang the doorbell. After almost a minute, a scrawny little guy opened the door. He was dressed in black—black T-shirt, black jeans, black boots. Even the unlit cheroot clenched in the corner of his mouth was black. He had a black Fu Manchu mustache and narrow black eyebrows that joined at the bridge of his hawkish nose.
He took the cheroot from his mouth and spit out a piece of tobacco. “Yeah?”
He said it more as a snarl than a question.
“Rocky?” Lou said.
The guy wore his long black hair pulled back in a ponytail. He put the cheroot back in his mouth and shook his head.
Lou smiled politely. “Is Rocky there?
&nbs
p; The guy sized him up. “What you want Rocky for?”
“It’s about Mr. Pelham and Mr. Burke,” Lou answered. “There’s been a change in procedures for the seventeenth. We need to talk to Rocky.”
The guy studied them. His face was lined, and there were gray hairs in his mustache. Lou guessed he was in his late forties.
“Wait here,” the guy said, and closed the door.
Lou looked back at his two companions.
Gordie shook his head. “Delightful chap, eh? I should think that he and Reggie got along famously. Best of chums, no doubt.”
Several minutes passed before the scrawny guy opened the door again. Standing next to him was a pale, sullen woman in tight jeans and faded chambray shirt, the sleeves rolled up, exposing an ornate red cross tattooed on the back of her right arm. She had straight brown hair that looked as if she cut it herself with a weed wacker. A cigarette dangled from her lips.
“Yeah?” she said.
“We’re here to see Rocky,” Lou said.
She took a deep drag on her cigarette and exhaled twin streams of smoke through her nostrils. “I’m Rocky.”
Lou forced a smile. “I’m Lou.”
She squinted at him through a wavering line of tobacco smoke. “Who the fuck sent you?”
Lou said. “We’re here to make you a business proposal.”
“Business proposal?” She snorted. “You lied to my old man. I don’t talk business with no bullshitters.” She started to close the door.
“Oh, really?” Lou said. “That’s tough talk for someone doing business with thieves.”
She paused, the door halfway closed, and scowled at Lou. “What you talking about?”
“Your customers. Reggie Pelham and Frank Burke,” Lou said. “They’re thieves.”
“I ain’t no preacher.” She took a last deep drag of her cigarette and flicked the butt past Lou onto the front lawn. “It’s just business.”
“Same here. We’ll top their deal.”
She shook her head. “I don’t go in for that crap.”
As she closed the door Gordie shouted, “Not even for fifty grand?”
Lou turned to Gordie and smiled. He held up both hands, fingers crossed.
A moment later, Rocky opened the door. The scrawny guy was at her side.
She squinted at Gordie. “Say what?”
“Fifty grand.”
Lou could tell she had her guard way up. She couldn’t figure out Gordie’s angle and didn’t want to say anything that might make her look foolish.
“You said earlier that it was just business,” Gordie said in an affable manner. “I know business, ma’am, and I know that anyone who passes up the chance to earn I’m guessing at least ten times more than she would under a prior agreement—especially a prior agreement with thieves—just isn’t going to ever get far in the world of business. That’s the sort of behavior you’d expect from a sucker, ma’am, and you sure don’t seem like a sucker to me.”
“Fifty grand?” she repeated.
Gordie nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
The scrawny guy thrust his chin forward, his head bobbing defiantly. “Yeah? Where is it?”
“Well, sir,” Gordie said calmly, “we don’t have it quite yet. It’s prize money, you see. That’s where Rocky comes in.”
The scrawny guy snorted and reached to close the door. “I knew this was bullshit.”
Gordie held up his hands. “Hold on, pal. My buddy Billy here has with him two six-packs of fine Massachusetts beer. Why not settle back, have a few brews with us, and listen to our proposition? When we’re through, if your lady friend doesn’t want to earn fifty large for two perfectly legal hours of flying, that’s fine. No problem. We’ll say good-bye and be on our way. No hard feelings.”
Gordie shifted his gaze back to Rocky and gave her a pleasant smile. “Way I see it, ma’am, you got nothing to lose and plenty to gain. What do you say we sit down and talk some business over a few cold ones?”
Rocky turned toward her boyfriend, whose brain seemed to have gone into vapor lock. He didn’t move or change his expression.
She turned to Gordie and gestured toward the grocery bag in Billy’s hands. “What kind of beer?”
“Sam Adams.”
Gordie turned toward Billy, who reached into the bag and pulled out one of the six packs to show her.
She frowned.
They waited.
She lit another cigarette with her lighter.
Her boyfriend stood watching her, waiting.
She stared at the floor and exhaled the smoke through her nostrils. After a moment, she looked up at Gordie.
“What the fuck,” she said. “I’m thirsty. Come on in and let me hear this bullshit proposition.”
Part 5: Redemption
I see my light come shining,
From the west unto the east.
Any day now, any day now,
I shall be released.
—Bob Dylan
Chapter Forty-five
According to the printed program, the Reunion of the Class of 1974 would officially begin at noon on June sixteenth with a luncheon for class members and their families under the big tent on the front lawn of Pembroke House. To make sure they’d be under that tent by noon, Brandi agreed to watch Lou’s kids as Lou, Gordie, and Billy worked their way down a shopping list that was, by any measure, bizarre. Billy, in the familiar role of navigator, had been up at dawn to map out their route.
First stop was a seedy strip mall on the outskirts of Linden, twenty miles up the road from Barrett. At 9:05 a.m., Gordie walked into Naughty Nicole’s Lingerie. At 9:26 a.m., he walked out with a plastic bag and a leer.
Next stop was Arnold Bros. Lawn & Garden in Vernon. At 9:57 a.m., all three of them walked in. Thirty minutes later, Lou backed the van into position by the store’s pickup door. Gordie and Billy came out carrying a small tube of super glue, a can of red paint, and a paintbrush. Behind them came a store employee pushing a flatbed cart with a large object wrapped in several Hefty bags.
Third stop was Dr. Whammy’s House of Novelties, located in a strip mall four miles outside Hawthorn. At 10:46 a.m., Billy hopped out of the van. Fourteen minutes later he climbed back in, held up a small bag, and announced, “This was their last one.”
Final stop was Booker’s Lock ’N Key in downtown Hawthorn. At 11:17 a.m., Lou strolled in with three crisp one-hundred-dollar bills. Thirty-two minutes later he exited without those bills. As he approached the van, he flashed Gordie and Billy the thumbs-up sign.
At 12:21 p.m., the shopping spree complete, Lou settled into his seat between Kenny and Katie at one of the long tables under the large yellow-striped tent on the front lawn of Pembroke House. Gordie was at their table, too, along with Ray and Brandi, and a few other classmates and wives and children. Billy’s chair was empty. He’d borrowed Lou’s van and was driving down to the airport. Dorothy had surprised him last night with the announcement that she and their son were flying up there in the morning. Lou had never seen Billy so elated.
Lou was determined to enjoy this part of the reunion—to focus on his kids and the festivities, to be just another guy cruising through his reunion weekend with a grin on his face and a beer in his hand and two kids in tow. The effort added a surreal edge to the reunion experience. Thoughts of what they’d done that morning and what awaited them tomorrow kept intruding—and all the while, wherever he looked, whatever he did, more memories of Andi appeared, as if the journey back to Barrett had jarred open a passageway into his past.
He spotted Donna and her two girls a few tables over. They were seated with several of Bruce’s fraternity brothers and their families. When she looked his way he waved. She smiled and waved back. He was looking forward to having dinner with her that night.
The luncheon speaker was the dean of the st
udents, who’d been the assistant dean when they were freshmen. He welcomed them back with a warm, humorous speech. Following him to the podium were several members of their reunion committee, each with a brief speech about the weekend’s events. Throughout the speeches, their goofy class secretary Bryce Wharton worked the crowd, moving from table to table, pumping hands, sliding his eyeglasses back up his nose with his finger, scribbling notes onto what looked like a steno pad. Lunch concluded with a clever audiovisual presentation about their class by one of their classmates who was now head of public relations for a major oil company.
The list of the afternoon’s events ranged from a seminar on coping with midlife career changes to a mixed-doubles tennis tournament on the Chilmark courts to a panel discussion on enhancing emotional intimacy in marital relationships to a lecture by Bryce Wharton (in his Northwestern Mutual persona) on “Life Insurance for the Millennium.” Ray, Brandi, and Gordie opted for the Bloody Mary party over at the Class of ’74’s reunion tent. Lou and his children opted for the family softball tournament down on Clark Field. Before separating, they agreed to meet back at the motel by six to review the plan.
After the softball game, Lou and the kids hiked back up the hill from the ball fields, sweaty and victorious. Katie had scored the winning run for their team, and Kenny had made a key defensive play at third base that saved a run.
Lou led them toward the big red tent in the center of the quad, where the refreshments included kegs of beer, coolers filled with iced soft drinks, and bowls of pretzels and nuts and popcorn. After he got Katie and Kenny settled at a table with cans of root beer and plates of munchies, he went back for a beer.
As he was leaning over the keg to fill his cup, he heard his name called. He looked back toward the voice. Straightening, he turned to face Frank Burke.
The Sirena Quest Page 21