Bike Week Blues

by Mary Clay

  Red was not in a listening mood. She lunged for Penny Sue, who knocked her back with a kick to the gut. Considering Penny Sue was wearing the Harley boots and Red was nude, it must have hurt like hell. But, she surely had a streak of wild animal, because she came back swinging as if nothing had happened.

  “Enough,” Fran said with the force of Darth Vader, waving the pepper spray.

  A crowd had formed to watch the commotion. My mouth went dry at the sight of Fran’s spray, recalling Woody’s comment that any small incident could set off a turf war between bikers. I poked Fran on the arm. “Put that up, you could start a riot.” Her eyes shifted from side-to-side. Fran stuffed it in her pocket just as Rich plowed through the crowd and stepped between the women.

  “No more,” he said, holding them at arm’s length. A rough-looking dude appeared on his heels and handed the towel to Red.

  “Vulture,” Penny Sue whispered.

  Vulture pushed Red roughly. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Red raised her chin defiantly, clutching the towel. “I don’t like fake bitches.”

  Rich frowned and said under his breath, “Get out of here, Penny Sue.”

  The urgency in his voice was unmistakable. As we backed up and turned to high tail it out of Dodge, Vulture held up his arms and shouted, “Don’t move!”

  The entire crowd froze like statues. There was no way for us to get away.

  Vulture glowered at Rich, then sidled up to Penny Sue, who towered over him in her boots. “Did I hear right? Penny Sue?” he sneered. “This wouldn’t be Penny Sue Parker from Roswell, Georgia? The busybody who drives a yellow Mercedes?”

  Our worst fears had materialized. I’d always thought Penny Sue was overly paranoid about running into criminals that her father had locked up, yet it had finally happened. I watched as her hand inched toward her belt. I also noticed that Rich had suddenly developed an itch on his back.

  They didn’t make it. A nod from Vulture and two huge guys barreled through the crowd and grabbed Rich and Penny Sue. The biggest of the two, a mangy guy with a scraggly beard, patted Rich down and pulled a handgun from the back of his jeans.

  “Sig Sauer, probably government issue.”

  Government issue? A murmur rippled through the crowd.

  The second guy plunged his hand into the front of Penny Sue’s bike belt and came out with the .38.

  Vulture went nose-to-nose first with Rich, then Penny Sue. Actually, in her case, it was more like nose-to-chin, but the effect was the same. “Hm-m, seems my good buddy knows this meddlesome bitch, and they’re both packing hardware. Curious,” he said to no one in particular. “I think we should have a little conference to see what’s going on here.” Vulture nodded and his goons shoved Rich and Penny Sue toward the woods.

  “Call the police!” Penny Sue shouted. The mangy gang member clamped his hand over her mouth.

  As I fumbled for my cell phone, Ruthie implored the people standing next to her to help Penny Sue. They shook their head and backed away. No one, it seems, including a security guard standing a few feet away, wanted to tangle with Vulture. But, Fran had spunk. Hand in pocket, no doubt clutching the pepper spray, she crossed herself and started after them. Suddenly, hands came from behind and pulled us back, through the crowd. It was Carl and his buddies.

  “No-o-o,” Fran screamed as Vulture and his gang disappeared with Rich and Penny Sue. “Son, we’ve got to help them.”

  “Mom, we will, but we’re going to do it intelligently.”

  * * *

  Chapter 15

  We left the Explorer parked in the field and rode to Fran’s house on the back of the guys’ bikes. I rode with Todd, the Romulan. Luckily, he was not in costume and seemed to have bounced back from his defeat at Khitomer. Whatever happened at Khitomer, it was a big deal to the Romulans and Klingons. One day, when this was all behind us, I’d rent some old Star Trek videos and find out. Right now, Penny Sue was my only concern. I thought of Grammy Martin. Please, Grammy, call in the angels and spirits to watch over my friend.

  I clung to Todd’s back like a scared child clutches a teddy bear. We bumped through the woods and finally onto the highway. What to do? What to do first? Call Ted. He would get the local police on the case. And, Judge Parker. He would get state troopers mobilized.

  I choked up at the prospect of what might be happening to Penny Sue. Red was a wild woman and everyone said Vulture was worse. And, why did Rich have a government issue gun? Was it stolen? Was he a cop? Penny Sue speculated he’d been associated with the courts before his wife got sick. The drama where he dumped Penny Sue had been strange, to say the least, especially considering the apologetic phone call he made the very next day. Had Rich hustled her away that afternoon because he didn’t want Vulture to see her? If so, what was the connection between Vulture and Penny Sue, or Vulture and Rich, for that matter?

  We needed answers. If Rich was law enforcement, his superiors should be notified. Besides, they’d probably know where to start looking. Surely, Rich had made progress reports or something, if he really was a cop. Or, like Penny Sue said, he could simply be a guy who stumbled into something beyond his control, I thought sadly.

  The drive down Route 44 to Peninsula and the Annina house was one of the longest of my life—not counting the trips to the hospital to give birth. Those rides were longer, although this was close. The guys parked their bikes beside Carl’s workshop where the door was already going up. Carl helped his mother off the bike, then raced to a computer at the side of the workshop. He hit a button and the computer started to hum.

  “Does she still have that GPS transponder?” Carl asked as he waited for the computer to boot.

  The transponder. I’d forgotten all about it and felt a flicker of hope. “Yes, she didn’t have time to plant it on Rich.”

  “Then, we’ll find her in a matter of minutes.”

  “Shouldn’t we call the police?” I asked.

  “Yep, though we’ll find her long before the police do. With Bike Week, we’d be lucky if the police returned our call by tomorrow.”

  “We have to try,” Ruthie said adamantly. She took out her cell phone and went upstairs to make the call.

  Carl’s fingers flew over the keyboard. “Vulture is a vicious nut, probably even psychotic. If he’s got it in for Penny Sue, for whatever reason, there’s no time to waste.”

  “Vulture’s goon said Rich’s gun was government issue. If that’s the case, something bigger is going on. Penny Sue has a key to his room at the Riverview Hotel. I’m sure it’s in her purse. We should search the room, don’t you think?” I said.

  Carl pointed at a map that had appeared on the screen. “There, looks like they’re heading for the Canaveral Seashore.”

  “Why would they go there?” Fran asked.

  “We’ve seen them there. They’ve cut tunnels through the palmetto scrub off Klondike Beach.”

  “Tunnels in shrubbery?”

  “You can’t imagine how thick that stuff is,” Todd said. “And, they’re definitely up to something important to slash a path through those prickly palms. The stems are like barbed wire; they’d shred a person in normal clothing.”

  “If they’re so well hidden, how did you find them?” I asked.

  Todd smirked. “Infrared. We were playing one of our games, and I picked them up. I knew Carl wasn’t masochistic enough to hide in palmetto. We went back later and discovered a whole series of tunnels.”

  Fran slapped her son on the shoulder. “We must go there and get them, now. Vulture may be torturing Penny Sue.”

  Carl swung around forcefully. “Mom, you’re not going.” He looked to Todd. “How can we get in there without making any noise.”

  “Not on the Harleys, that’s for sure. Our dirt bikes would be even worse.”

  “Saul. Saul has electric scooters,” I said excitedly.

  Todd grimaced. “Scooters?”

  “He told us his new electric mopeds go close to forty miles an hour
.”

  The guys exchanged glances. “That would do,” Todd allowed.

  Fran was already dialing her cell telephone. “Bobby,” she screeched.

  I assumed she’d called Bobby Barnes.

  “Penny Sue’s been kidnapped by Vulture. We have to locate Saul Hirsch. We need his electric mopeds.” She listened for a second, then covered the mouthpiece and relayed, “Saul’s with him. They’re at the Pub.” She listened again. “We know where they took her—to the Canaveral Seashore. Carl gave Penny Sue a GPS transponder, and we have them on the map. Carl’s buddy knows where they’re probably hiding out. Okay, they’ll be there.” She pushed the off button. “Meet them at Saul’s shop downtown. They’ll be there directly.”

  As the guys planned the attack, Ruthie appeared looking like a whipped puppy. “First, I called the city, who told me the Cabbage Patch was in the county. So, I called the county, and the officer I spoke with wasn’t convinced that Penny Sue had been kidnapped. I told him about the hoodlum dragging her away and putting his hand over her mouth, but the deputy thought it might be a case of mistaken identity that would work itself out. I have to go to the sheriff’s office and fill out a report. As soon as I do that, they’ll issue a BOLO—be on the lookout. In any event, the deputy made a point of warning me that resources were stretched thin.”

  “It’s up to us, then.” Carl nodded to the Klingons. One went to the Bird of Prey and pulled out a square box with a scope, while the others gathered paintball guns and ammunition from the wall. Ruthie flew upstairs as Carl plugged something about the size of a skinny pack of cigarettes into the computer.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “A PDA. I’m downloading the transponder signature so the guys can track Penny Sue.”

  “From that little thing?” I asked, incredulously.

  “Yes,” Carl said over his shoulder. “This little thing has more computing power than one of the first computers, Whirlwind I, developed at Lincoln Laboratories.”

  Why in the world did I question guys who’d graduated from MIT at age twenty? Talk about stupid.

  Carl handed the PDA to Todd. “You’re in charge, commander,” he said. Todd nodded with the look of a Romulan bigwig.

  Ruthie huffed into the room, carrying the Taser and two bottles of solution. She quickly told them what it was. Todd’s eyes lit with delight. He took the Taser and examined it appreciatively, then lifted the gun into the air with one arm. “Victory,” he cried. The Klingons cheered raucously.

  “I think you need real weapons,” Fran said, handing the pepper spray to Todd. She looked at Carl. “What about Uncle Enrico’s sawed-off shotguns? Wouldn’t they help? Or, the crossbow and sniper rifle?”

  “Mom, we can get these nuts with cunning and technology. There’s no need for brute force.”

  Frannie May scowled. “It wouldn’t hurt to have a few tricks up your sleeve.”

  “We want to rescue Penny Sue, not get locked up for the rest of our lives!” Carl said sternly.

  “So, what’s your plan?” Fran asked peevishly.

  “Todd and the guys will find Penny Sue. Meanwhile, we’ll go to the Riverview Hotel to check out Rich’s room.”

  Fran snatched back the pepper spray. “Good plan, son.”

  * * *

  Todd and two Klingons went to meet Bobby and Saul armed with the PDA, Taser, and paintball guns. Under other circumstances I would have been worried, considering all the vile stuff we’d heard about Vulture. Though, knowing Bobby Barnes, I suspected he and Saul—old Navy Seal buddies—might be packing something stronger than paintballs. Actually, I was counting on it. Praying for it, considering Vulture’s bad press.

  As the group left to Klingon battle cries, I tried to call Ted on my cell phone. As Carl predicted, no answer. Doubtlessly, he was up to his ears in a bike brawl or home asleep, his long shift finally over.

  Then, I thought of calling the judge. Gracious, Judge Parker was in his seventies, and I hated to upset him unnecessarily. We had Penny Sue on the radar screen, so to speak, and two Navy Seals plus a Romulan and band of Klingons going to rescue her. State troopers weren’t better equipped, and it would take a lot longer for them to get there. No, I’d wait. Carl, Todd, and their buddies were about as smart as anyone could be. Add the real battle experience that Bobby and Saul possessed to the Trekkies’ technological know-how, and you had a team that couldn’t be beat. Best not to disturb the judge yet, bless his heart.

  Now, for our part. Ruthie took the keys to my car and headed for the Volusia County Sheriff’s department to file the report. I ran upstairs and found the key to Rich’s room in Penny Sue’s pocketbook. When I returned, Fran was stuffing the pepper spray into her belt pouch. Carl gave her a hard stare, which she ignored.

  Since the Explorer was out at the Cabbage Patch, we piled into Fran’s Jaguar. As I wedged around the car to the backseat, I noticed, for the first time, a bumper sticker that said, “Mean People Suck.” How appropriate! Vulture was definitely mean by all accounts and clearly sucked.

  The Riverview Hotel was barely over a mile from Fran’s house. We pulled into the lot and parked next to the spa. It was four o’clock, still light.

  “I don’t think we should go through the main lobby,” I said. “After the murder, I’ll bet they have instructions to report comings and goings to the police. We don’t want them to know we’re going to Rich’s room, considering he’s the prime suspect.”

  Carl turned to me in the backseat and grinned. “No problem. I know the way. Give me key.”

  I gave Frannie May a questioning look as I handed the key to him. She shrugged. Carl caught the exchange and answered, “I’ve had a few girlfriends who stayed there. I know all the angles.”

  Ah, this millionaire genius did make time for girls! I needed to call Ann, again.

  We followed Carl past the valet stand to a door by the pool. “This is usually not locked,” he said, clasping the handle. It wasn’t. Good ole Carl, sneaking around after women at night and his mother didn’t have a clue. I should have guessed, considering he specialized in stealthy operations. We followed him by the pool and up a flight of steps to a balcony.

  “Look,” I said, pointing at a tall man with dreadlocks walking in front of the hotel. “That’s Sidney, the guy who helped us out in our first run-in with Red. We saw him the other day at the health food store. I wonder what he’s doing here?”

  “Maybe he’s staying at the hotel. You thought he was wealthy, right?” Fran said.

  Carl shifted impatiently. “We need to get a move on. In another hour, the halls will be crowded with people leaving for dinner. I want to be long gone before then.”

  “Right.”

  We followed Carl, single file, to Rich’s room. Luckily, we didn’t encounter anyone in the corridor. I immediately went to the closet. Rich was a friend of Penny Sue’s—maybe he had a Lu Nee 3 stashed away. Only a couple pairs of slacks, a few shirts and a sport coat. A suitcase sat at the back of the closet. Carl grabbed the satchel and swung it to the bed.

  “The best stuff is usually hidden,” he said.

  The suitcase was empty. So much for that theory.

  Carl put it back in the closet and went to the floral-draped bed. “Leigh, help me lift this up. Mom, you look under it.” We hoisted the top mattress on the count of three. Pay dirt! In the center, between the mattresses, too far in for a maid to find, was an IBM laptop.

  Fran wiggled between the mattresses and snatched the computer. We lowered the mattress, and as Carl fired up the PC, Frannie adjusted the bedspread.

  A moment later, Carl mumbled, “Wow, encrypted, high level. This is not an amateur job. We need to take this and get out of here.”

  “Should we wipe off our fingerprints or something?” Fran asked, fondling the pepper spray in her belt pouch.

  “Too late for that, Mom. Besides, none of us have prints on record, ... yet.”

  I swallowed hard. I did.

  “Let’s go.”


  Carl didn’t have to say it twice. Fran smoothed one last wrinkle from the bedspread, peeked out in the door, and waved us through. As I pulled the door closed, I wiped the handle with the bottom of my shirt.

  We went back to Fran’s, and Carl immediately went to his workshop with the laptop, which he plugged into his big computer.

  “Can we help you?” Fran asked.

  “Something to munch on would be nice.”

  Fran glanced at her watch, almost five-thirty. “It’s time for dinner, and I’m sure everyone will be famished. I’ll put something on right away.”

  Anxious to see what he found, I stayed with Carl. I watched as his fingers danced across the keyboard. “What are you doing?” I asked, feeling like the Sword of Damocles was hanging over our heads.

  “I’m copying the laptop’s data to my hard drive. The G5 has a faster processor. Then, I’ll use an algorithm to try to decrypt the data.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t know anything about encryption or what an algorithm was. Geez, life had become so complicated. I suddenly felt old, the way my parents probably felt when they talked to me. They couldn’t believe I had a cellular phone or even an answering machine.

  Carl was light years ahead of us. Heck, he was on the cutting edge—one of the people who made it all happen.

  “Okay, now to crack the code. Just so happens I have a great program. I used it a while back when I was working on the Bible code.”

  “The Bible code?” I echoed.

  “Yeah, many people think there are hidden messages in the Hebrew Bible. You know, like, if you pull out every third letter, you get a message or prediction about the future. It was the rage a few years ago, and I took a stab at it.”

  I’d never heard of it. Of course, I’d come to realize what a sheltered life I’d led. Tattooed boobs, Tae Kwon Do, Ayurveda, a Bible code—I’d missed a lot. “Did you find any messages in the Bible?”

  “Some, nothing conclusive. Hundreds of mathematicians are working on it, so I figured I’d let them take the point. Besides, I got a lucrative consulting gig about that time.” He leaned forward, studying a lightening fast scroll of data. “We’re closing in,” he said excitedly, then pointed at the corner of the screen. “I’ve got it!”