by Lizz Lund
The motor hummed steadily. Dexter hadn’t stopped the car. I heard him get out and slam the door.
I fumbled around frantically for a release to let me inside the cab of the car and drive away. Nothing. My luck. They sure didn’t made Crown Vics the way they used to. Which I suppose is why they don’t make them anymore.
The car door opened and shut again. Dexter put the car into drive, slowly. We pulled into some type of building. He got out again, and I heard another large door close. It sounded like a metal door. Then the trunk lid popped open.
“Get out.”
I blinked at the bright lights shining in my face. I climbed out, shivering.
“Get in here.” He held open what looked like a door to a large dog kennel.
I crouched down and stepped in. He padlocked the door.
“What are you going to do?” I was hesitant about adding the “with me” part of that statement. I didn’t want to give him any more ideas. I didn’t know if there were any cats around.
“Shut up.” He walked off to the back of the building.
I looked around at what looked like a large airplane hangar, or warehouse. It was a huge metal structure, with a domed roof. But it had lots of fenced-in enclosures and enormous shelving units. One level of shelves held plastic-wrapped sofas and desks. Another held huge storage boxes. I wondered if this was all stolen loot? How much of a market was there for hot sofas? Or desks?
There was a large picture window at one end of a far wall. I peered toward it and made out the outline of a desktop Christmas tree. Holy moly! If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d been brought back to the storage facility in Leola, where I’d made a delivery.
I heard a motor turn over. Suddenly, a large truck came straight at me. Its cargo bed was not a typical freight carrier, but looked like some kind of shrink-wrapped plastic. Dexter stepped out of the cab, and came toward me swinging handcuffs.
“Wanna play?”
“No.”
“Too bad. But we’re running out of time. Turn around.”
I turned around inside the kennel, my back toward Dexter. I heard him unlock the door.
“Now put your hands behind your back.”
I had been fretting about this kind of a moment. “Look, do you really think this is necessary? You can just leave me in the trunk, right?”
He clanked the cuffs on my wrists. “You’re coming with me. Now get out nice and slow.”
Since I had to crawl out backward on my knees, that was the only option.
He grabbed me under the arm and hauled me to my feet.
“Ouch!”
“No talking, got me?”
“Okay! Okay!”
“Let me make this easy for you – I got the garage opener to your house. And I don’t like cats. Am I clear?”
“Crystal.”
“Good. You gotta ride in the cab with me for a while. And don’t get cute.”
“Fine, I’ll get ugly. Enough already!”
“Shut up! No talking!” He held the gun up as if to hit me with it. I winced, expecting the blow.
Dexter laughed. “Good. Now I know you’re taking me serious.”
He pushed me in the passenger’s side, and went around the truck to open the hangar door. Then he hopped behind the wheel, drove the big rig out, put it in park and manually closed the door again. Back inside, he shifted gears and quickly we headed off down the dirt road, onto Route 23 and then Route 30 East. I tried to keep track so I could figure out where I’d been killed, later on.
As we drove past the outlets, Dexter turned on the radio. A talk show came on, something about people going back to school for training, after they’d been laid off.
“Losers.”
“Well, at least they’re trying.”
He shot me a look. I rolled my eyes.
“The only reason I didn’t gag you was because I didn’t want some snoop calling a cop, you see? It’s not because I’m a nice guy.”
“Agreed.”
“Besides, what you need to make it in this world is talent. Those losers are like a bunch of sheep. Punch in, punch out. All they want is a paycheck.”
I cleared my throat but kept quiet.
“Yeah, I know. Go ahead, say it – ‘what’s wrong with that?’ I’ll tell you what’s wrong. Talented people like me wind up paying for all the losers who can’t get off their lazy butts.”
I nodded. What else could I do?
He looked at me. “I know what you’re thinking. I’m driving a truck, and worked a retail stand for Myron. You’re wondering how come I think I’m talented, right?”
I nodded again. This was a little like a Ouija board but backward.
“I’m gonna make it big – big! I’m a real artist. I’m the real deal. You’ll see. Everyone will see.”
I slapped a fake smile on and turned to stare out the window. It was dark. There was almost no one else on the road, and soon he was making turning onto 896.
I looked at the clock on the dashboard, it was almost ten. I thought about my former life: Chef giving me a wake-up call. In that life, I’d be to work at dawn and Ma would have called me later. I wondered idly how long it would take anyone to realize I’d run into foul play. I also wondered how long I’d be kept alive. Which made me start to cry.
“What the hell?” Dexter screamed so loudly it made me jump.
“What’s the matter?”
“Are you bawling?”
“Allergies.”
“To what?”
“Kidnapping.”
“Nice one. Get over it. Here; blow.” He tossed a box of tissues at me. They landed at my feet.
I looked at him.
“Whatever. That’s what sleeves are for, right?”
We drove on in darkness. Eventually I saw signs welcoming us to Delaware.
Delaware? Great. I’m in Delaware.
A long while later Dexter took us from main roads to back roads whose trees barely skimmed the top of the cargo. After what felt like a decade I saw signs for Port Delaware. I dimly recalled it might be near Lewes but wasn’t sure.
We pulled onto an exit ramp, and headed toward what appeared to be an industrial area. Dexter drove down a service road, headed toward a locked gate. He flashed his lights twice, and the gate opened. We drove in. We headed toward a large warehouse, but he passed it, driving the truck slowly around the building, down another long service road. Soon I heard waves and saw a commercial dock. He stopped the truck, and I heard another vehicle come to a stop beside us.
“Looks like your luck’s holding out. You got good weather tonight.”
“What’s the wind?”
“Ten knots from the south. You’ll have the wind at your back.”
“Good. Might help with the time.”
“You bet.”
Then there was a lot of ripping sounds from the back. I spun around but there was no back window. I turned around, and could see Dexter and another guy tearing off the plastic wrap surrounding his load – whatever it was—in the side view mirror. After a while, I heard metal crashing as it was pulled from the back. More metallic clanking, then the other guy’s vehicle starting up.
Then I watched as some kind of mammoth pickup truck on steroids hauled a motorboat toward the water.
I hunched down in the cab, which was becoming cold with the motor shut off, and tried very hard not to think about a watery death.
The pickup came back up the road much sooner than I’d expected. I had absolutely no Plan B. Dexter stepped out of passenger’s side of the truck.
“Thanks again for the help.”
“No problem. I owed you one, right?”
“Yes, you did.”
“Well, sorry about doing time for it. Nobody’s perfect, right?”
“Sure.”
“Say, you taking your girlfriend along with you? Far out.”
I pulled my face back from the window.
“You saw, her, huh?”
“Yeah. Cute kid.”
“Too bad.” And then I heard a silencer. Well, at least I guessed it was. It sounded a lot like the ones you hear in the movies. And then a horn blared.
I shot up and saw Dexter’s buddy’s carcass leaning across the steering wheel. There was a dark spot beside his eyebrow just starting to ooze. Dexter reached over and tossed him aside like a sack of potatoes.
I slapped myself against the back of the seat and tried not to hyperventilate or puke.
Dexter opened the truck door.
“Get out.”
I hopped out and didn’t utter a syllable. If he’d just murdered someone who’d just done him a favor, no telling what he’d do to me. I was playing for time and running out of cards.
He put the gun in the small of my back. “Walk.”
We walked silently toward the water. I heard the lapping of waves and saw the boat bobbing on the water, tethered to the dock. The motor was running.
“Get in.” Dexter pushed the gun hard against me.
“How?” I croaked.
He pushed me and I found out – I landed hard on my knees. I heard him jump down after me. “You really are a klutz, aren’t you?”
“You didn’t have to push me!”
“Sure I did. Now, get down there.” He opened a door and I saw a small staircase. And that was all I remember seeing, after I got tossed down the steps and locked inside.
CHAPTER 10
Wednesday, late morning
I woke up cradling my forehead and a big headache. I looked around and saw that I was sitting on a very wet concrete floor. Raw lumber framing leaned against some not-so-secure cinder block walls. There were no windows. Some light shone through a crack under a door at the top of a short flight of stairs. A figure sat on an upturned bucket underneath the steps in darkness.
“Where am I? What do you want?” I sat straight up, but the throbbing in my head forced me back down.
“Be quiet. He’s not gone yet,” a female voice hissed at me.
I rubbed my forehead. I was getting a little tired of being told to be quiet, and getting konked on the noggin. Then I noticed I could rub my forehead – the handcuffs were gone. I began to stand up, but the female waved me back down. I sat still.
“I want to come back with you! It’ll be lunchtime soon and I haven’t fed yet.”
“Myron told you, he needs you to watch the girls. Check the fridge.”
“Pooh. There’s nothing I can eat in the fridge. Besides, I’m the head of this outfit. Those broads are locked up. And you’ve already got one handcuffed.”
“It’s too bright outside, remember? You’re better off here.”
“What if I forget myself?”
“Have fun.”
“Who’s minding the store?”
“Myron.”
“You tell him to get here now. It’s his turn to babysit. This was all his big idea, anyway.”
“He’ll be back. And so will I. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t like it that you’re taking the car.”
“I’ll be back soon.”
“I don’t like being without a vehicle.”
“You’ve got the boat.”
“Ha, ha. You know any mermaids selling raw burgers?”
“Okay, I’ll bring you back a burger.”
“Raw, remember?”
“Got it.”
“You’ll be back soon, right?”
“Yes.”
“Not too, late, okay? I’m so hungry, I got a bellyache, and a headache.”
The sounds of a screen door closing resounded, followed by a car starting. We heard a man’s voice swear, not-so-softly. Then footsteps above us meandered around, and shuffled off in the distance. The creaking of stairs suggested our babysitter had gone up to a second floor. A door slammed closed.
“That’s a relief. He finally hit the can. Here, let me take a look at you.” The figure came toward me, lighting a vintage butane lighter in my face.
“Mrs. Phang!”
“Shhh!”
“What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“Where are we?”
“Mantoloking.”
“New Jersey?”
“Yes.”
“I thought I was in Delaware?”
Mrs. Phang lit the end of a cigarette and puffed at it. “You probably were. It’s not likely Dexter could take a boat from PA to here.”
“Why didn’t he just drive all the way?”
“Some of the roads here still have checkpoints.
“Checkpoints?”
“Ever since Sandy. This area’s still in recovery, so there’s a lot of security.”
I thought about it. “Dexter’s not so dumb. He could have faked some kind of pass.”
Mrs. Phang took another drag from her cigarette. “He has. But he probably didn’t want to risk having you seen. Handcuffs don’t look too friendly.”
“When did he take them off?”
“He didn’t. I did. We better make sure to put them back on when they pay us a visit. I can take them off again.”
“How’d you do that?”
Mrs. Phang smiled. “Buddies with Vito, remember?”
I was grateful for friends in low places. Even if the places were apparently wet basements.
“How long have you been here?”
Mrs. Phang crunched the stub in the remnants of a puddle. “Ever since I was dumb enough to confront Myron about my counterfeit postage.”
“Me too!”
She shook her head. “I thought he was just another retail slob trying to make a buck. I bought stamps from him for our Christmas mailing. Had over 4,000 cards returned.”
“So did my bills.”
“Yeah, and we don’t know the half of it.”
“What do you think?”
“I know these guys are into counterfeit stamps. And enough got released that returned letters and packages were becoming a problem.”
“So?”
“So that’s when I heard them talking about selling mail services, about mailing letters and packages directly.”
“But if they’re still using fake postage, the mail would still get returned to sender, right?”
“That’s just it. If they sent the packages.”
“You think they just dumped them?”
“Pretty much.”
“And meanwhile they pocketed the money for selling the stamps and the services?”
“Along with any money or gifts being sent. I wouldn’t put forging signatures on checks past them, since they’re already fair postal forgers.”
“Wow. That’s pretty Grinchy.”
The sounds of water gurgling through the pipes made us jump.
“He just flushed. Scoot. Lean back against that beam where he had you.”
I hustled back. “Who’s he?” I whispered.
“Bernie.” Mrs. Phang snapped the cuffs back on me.
“Bernie? You mean Buddy?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Phang hissed. She jumped back under the stairs just in time.
The door to the basement banged open. “The one, and the same, Cookie.” Bernie closed the door, turned the lock, and came downstairs. A flashlight’s beam shone down on us.
“How many times do I gotta tell you, not to smoke down here!”
“Sorry.”
“I told you I’d let you smoke out back, when the coast is clear, remember?”
“I forgot.”
“Geez, you must have a head like a sieve. No wonder your business is floundering.”
“I thought you quit?” I asked.
I heard Mrs. Phang exhale, and figured she must be counting to a thousand.
“How’s the kid doing?” Bernie ventured down a few steps, shining the beam directly in my eyes.
“I could be better.”
“No doubt. That’s some konk on your noggin.”
This was fast becoming an unwelcome trademark.
“You think you can let her ou
t of the cuffs, Bernie?”
He shook his head. “No can do.”
“I’ll keep tabs on her.”
“I’m sure you will, Tina. But Dexter took the key with him. Wouldn’t leave it with me.”
“How’s she supposed to tinkle?”
Tinkle? Yikes I hadn’t even thought about that.
Bernie came down and looked around, and picked up the bucket Mrs. Phang had been sitting on. “Here. Use this.”
We shot him looks of revulsion.
“Hey, you’re both gals, right? Guys see each other at urinals all the time.”
“But they don’t help each other pull their pants down, Bernie.”
He shrugged. “What are you gonna do? Dexter’s POed I didn’t keep you in handcuffs. I explained to him about Auld Lang Syne, but he wasn’t having none of it.”
“You two know each other?” I all but shrieked.
“Tina was friends with Vladimir. Vito. Whatever. Him and me used to be good business buds, if you know what I mean.”
Good grief.
“Luckily Tina complained about the phony stamps within my earshot, before she had a chance to blab to Vlad. Or the police.”
“That was before I knew you were in on the act,” Mrs. Phang spat.
Bernie shot the flashlight on her. “Temper, temper. You always were a hothead.”
“So you kidnapped her?”
“No. Myron did. I had to explain about our previous circumstances and all.”
“That’s terrible!”
“No, no. It’s only temporary until we shut down the stand, after we collect the rest of the money. Dexter’s done some tweaking to his template, so we’ve sold thousands of rolls of stamps, and they’ve all passed muster. We’re good to go.”
“Dexter?”
“He’s the talent. Friend of Myron’s.”
Mrs. Phang stared at me. “Myron and Bernie met in prison, waiting for their bail bonds to get posted.”
I stared back.
“A lottery strike for us! We’re gonna retire and live on islands. Except for Myron.” Bernie rocked happily back and forth on his heels.
“Myron’s not retiring?” I asked.
“Sure he is. It’s just that he wants to go to Iceland. Imagine that! Iceland! Brrr – too cold for my blood.”
What could we do? We nodded in agreement. Iceland is cold.