by Mary Clay
“We’re taking you to the Ranger Station for questioning. That’s the closest Federal facility.”
“What about my son? Do you know anything about him? Are the boys all right?”
Sidney stepped away and spoke into his radio. After several minutes, he came back. “Agents on site think they have everyone sorted out. Your Klingon and Seal buddies will be brought to the station, too.”
“Is everyone all right?” I asked anxiously.
“A couple of minor injuries were treated on the scene. Medics will check them out en route. If anyone needs additional treatment, they’ll be taken to the hospital.”
“Did your contact mention Carl Annina?”
“Your son?” Sidney asked Fran.
She nodded solemnly.
“Only that he and his friends were smart and gutsy.”
Fran beamed.
* * *
It was a little after four in the afternoon when we got back to Fran’s place. To say we were exhausted is an understatement. But, it could have been worse, we could be sitting in jail. Actually, at that point, I was so tired, I didn’t much care.
Sidney took the lead in the interrogations, which weren’t so bad, even with all the snickers and grunts from the park rangers. Fortunately, the tale was so outrageous, the Feds agreed we couldn’t be making it up. And Sidney said he sure as hell didn’t want to go before a judge and explain how a bunch of Klingons with lasers and paintball guns had accomplished what they should have done—stop the attack. And, the rangers didn’t want to admit that a bunch of geeks, as they put it, discovered tunnels that were built right under their nose.
Roger, Saul, and Bobby got the worst of the tongue-lashing. “You should have known better,” Sidney yelled. “You’re grown men, trained professionals. You could have gotten these kids,” he motioned to the Klingons, “killed.”
There was also the issue that Bobby and his friends were carrying real weapons, such as assault rifles. Thankfully, they’d had the good sense to ditch it all when the security forces arrived, making it impossible to prove what belonged to whom, considering the huge arsenal Vulture had stashed at the site. Finally, there was the problem of the pontoon boat and whether Bobby had stolen it from the Marine Center. Joseph, the director, was an ex-Marine who loved trading war stories with Bobby. So, when Joseph heard what had happened and that the boat had not been damaged, he stated forcefully that he’d given Bobby permission to use the pontoon.
Case dwindling, Sidney and the park rangers conferred, eventually coming to the conclusion that charges would not be pressed against Bobby or any of us—provided, Rich’s computer was returned and all the damage was paid for.
“No problem, she has good insurance,” Ruthie and I said in unison, thumbs cocked at Frannie May. Everyone laughed.
In fact, Sidney obviously had real admiration for Bobby, Saul, and especially Roger, who’d gotten nasty cuts on his cheek and arm from Vulture’s switchblade. In spite of his injuries, the big guy tackled the missile launcher in time to divert the Stinger from a direct path, giving the Atlas added seconds to get out of range. The Stinger fell harmlessly into the ocean.
Our interrogation finished, Frank insisted on taking Roger to a hospital to confer with a plastic surgeon about the slash on his cheek. Several of the park rangers slapped the Klingons on the back and asked if they could join in the games. Bobby and Saul headed out to check on his truck.
“Don’t worry, Saul. I’ll pay for the buggies and all the damage,” Frannie May called.
Sidney offered to drive us home, which we gratefully accepted. We rode in silence until we turned into Fran’s driveway. He stopped the car and got out to open our doors. He had on a serious FBI face. We thanked him profusely for his help and understanding, and his face cracked into a wide grin. “You ladies are a real piece of work. Try to stay out of trouble from now on.”
We waved as he pulled out of the driveway. As soon as he turned onto Peninsula, Ruthie poked Fran on the arm. “Open the door, I have to go to the bathroom.”
Ruthie flew into the half bath off the foyer, Fran went straight to her suite for a shower, and I poured a glass of wine and prepared to check our messages at the condo. I’d contacted the judge from the ranger station and suspected he was already in Daytona Beach at Penny Sue’s side. I’d also called Zack, but couldn’t get him, so left a message. I’d debated calling Ted from the ranger station, but didn’t. It was a call from him that I feared might be on the machine. I took a big gulp of the wine and hoped he hadn’t heard about our little escapade. It would definitely be better if he heard it from me, so I could gloss over the details.
I dialed the number of the condo, punched in the remote code, and waited with bated breath. Instead of a peeved Ted, Ann’s voice sounded. “Mom, I called Dad about the frequent flyer miles, and he told me what happened. Are you all right? What about Penny Sue? I’ve called your cell phone a hundred times.
“I talked to Patrick and he agrees our meeting can wait, that I should fly home to be with you. He called the Ambassador, who gave special permission for me to take some time off. Daddy will pay for the ticket. His secretary checked, and I can fly straight from London to Sanford, Florida. His secretary said that’s close to New Smyrna Beach.
“Mom, call as soon as you get this. I’m frantic to hear from you!”
Eyes brimming, I clicked off. If there were other messages, they could wait. This was the most important one. I wiped my eyes. Geez, maybe I needed some of that black cohosh, too. I took another sip of wine and went to the doorway of Fran’s suite. “Do you mind if I call Ann in London?”
The shower door clicked. “Hell, no. Be my guest.”
My eyes went round. A profane word passed through Fran’s lips!
Since I was talking on Frannie’s nickel, I gave Ann the abbreviated version of the story. She didn’t need to know the details—it would only worry her. I did make a point of mentioning how brilliant and rich Fran’s son, Carl, was several times. How he’d almost single-handedly saved the East Coast. Slight exaggeration, but hey, I was stressed myself. Besides, the important thing was that Ann was coming to visit me next weekend! Zack (or his secretary) had gotten her a seat on a plane to Sanford and she could stay for four days.
What do you know? Zack did have a kind streak left, after all.
“Baby, I’m fine and can’t wait to see you.” I struggled to hold back tears. “I’ll call you tomorrow. We need to check on Penny Sue.”
Ruthie emerged from the bathroom at the same time Fran appeared from her bedroom, clean, dressed, with full make-up. She winked at my juice glass of wine, snagged a new bottle from the wine rack over her sink, and took stemmed glasses from the china cabinet in the dining room. “I think we should toast ourselves in style.”
We clicked the glasses together, which emitted the unmistakable ping of expensive crystal. I quickly filled them in on Ann and we toasted again.
“We should go see Penny Sue,” Fran said. “After what she’s been through, we don’t want her sitting in a cold hospital alone.”
“You’re right. I suspect the judge is there, but if he’s not ... I need to shower and change.” Ruthie nodded agreement and stood up.
“You take a quick shower. I’ll call the hospital and florist,” Fran said.
In thirty minutes, Ruthie and I were clean, dressed and waiting downstairs. Ruthie, sweetheart that she was, had even packed a small bag of a gown, underwear, and make-up for Penny Sue. “You know she’s fit to be tied if she doesn’t have her lipstick.”
Fran entered the foyer with her purse hooked over her arm. “They’re holding Penny Sue overnight for observation. Rich is in stable condition. Apparently, they’re sharing the same room at Penny Sue’s request.”
“You’re kidding?”
“That’s what the hospital said.”
Ready to go, there was a moment of indecision about whose car to take. Fran’s was at the Marine Center. Mine was available, but small. So was Penny
Sue’s, which had remained parked because of Vulture’s potshots. With Vulture in the slammer somewhere—hopefully, far away—we decided to take Penny Sue’s Mercedes.
An hour later we stood outside Penny Sue’s room where Frank, Sidney’s tall sidekick, sat on a bench next to Ted.
“Ted,” I said sheepishly. “I guess you heard.”
He stood and pulled me close. “Yep, you ladies are the talk of the town again.”
I buried my face on his shoulder, feeling teary-eyed, as the fear and trauma of the last twenty-four hours washed through me. Ted must have sensed it, because he brushed his lips through my hair, then held me at arms length and grinned. “What am I going to do with you?” He released his hold and turned to face Ruthie and Fran. “What am I going to do with all of you? You’re magnets for trouble. You’re like Lucille Ball and Ethel Mertz times two. I wasn’t trained for this at the academy.” He turned to Frank. “Were you?”
The big guy stretched his legs and lounged leisurely. “Nope. A course on wacky women wasn’t part of the curriculum.”
“Wacky?” Fran repeated with a frown. “Try gutsy, kick-ass patriots.”
Chuckling, Frank did a palms up. “Whatever you say. Your tactics were unusual, but you got the job done.”
“How’s Roger?” Ruthie asked.
“Downstairs waiting for a plastic surgeon.” Frank chuckled. “You know, Roger thinks he’s a Klingon.”
“We had an inkling of that.”
“He wanted to keep the battle scar. I finally convinced him that the one on his arm was enough. No sense ruining his sweet baby face for womankind.” Frank laughed again. “That guy’s a trip. I’ll bet Vulture messed in his pants when Roger came after him ... I might have. Vulture got in a lick or two, but Roger only needed one punch. Word is, Vulture has a bad concussion.”
I nodded at the door. “What’s the deal?”
“Judge Parker’s in there with Penny Sue. She’s not seriously hurt. Bruises, slight concussion, maybe. They’re going to keep her for observation.”
“Rich?”
“In there, too. That’s why I’m here,” Frank said. “He was working undercover for us, and we don’t intend to let anything else happen to him.”
“How bad is he?”
“You saw him—beat to a pulp by those maniacs. No serious internal damage, it seems. Believe it or not, the shot Red gave him was a painkiller. I guess she really cared for him.”
My eyebrows shot up. Who would have guessed?
“Can we go in?” Ruthie asked.
Frank waved toward the door. “Be my guest.”
“Did the flowers arrive?” Fran said.
“Not yet.”
There was a commotion at the end of the hall as a large cart filled with floral arrangements was wheeled our way.
“That must be them. The florist promised to have them here in an hour.”
Frank gave Frannie May a look. “Nothing goes into that room until I check it. We almost lost Rich once, and we’re not taking any more chances. In fact, I should frisk you and search that bag.” He pointed to the satchel Ruthie’d brought for Penny Sue.
Fran held up her hand. “Be my guest, check the flowers,” then rushed through the door.
I turned to Ted. “Will you be here for a while?”
He brushed my hair off my forehead. “Yeah, I’ll be here. Don’t have to go back on duty for another few hours.”
I stroked his arm. “That’s great. I don’t think we’ll be long.” I waved as I followed Ruthie into the room.
The judge held Penny Sue’s hand and stroked her forehead lovingly. It was such a sweet scene, I almost teared up. Heavens, I’d better get some of that black cohosh, fast.
Ruthie went to the judge and rubbed his back. “How are you, sir? How’s Penny Sue?”
“I’m fine!” Penny Sue struggled to a sitting position, took her father’s hand and kissed it. “Daddy, you really don’t have to stroke my forehead.”
“Sweetpea—”
Sweetpea? That was a new one.
“—you loved it as a child.”
“I did, Daddy, but it messes up my make-up.”
I shook my head. No make-up left to mess up.
Penny Sue scowled. Ruthie handed her a compact and lipstick.
“Oh, shit,” Penny Sue exclaimed, catching her image in the mirror. She smeared on some lipstick and handed back the mirror.
“Rich?” I asked.
“The doctor’s in with him now.” She nodded at the curtain separating their beds. Her eyes welled with tears and she lowered her voice. “He’s going into the witness protection program. I may never see him again.” The judge stroked her forehead. “His wife had cancer, you know that. Anyway, she was in a lot of pain and hospice doctors prescribed some pretty powerful painkillers. After her death, Rich was so distraught, he used the remaining narcotics to dull his pain. He got hooked, which is how he got caught up with Vulture’s bunch. They were selling drugs to finance their arms deals.
“Rich was buying drugs from one of Vulture’s branches in Georgia. Rich was busted in a raid, and rather than go to jail, agreed to work with the Feds undercover. He had previous police experience, which made him a natural. In the course of the drug investigation, he realized it was a lot bigger, and the drugs were funding arms purchases.
“Rich was working with Sammy—Sidney’s partner—who’d infiltrated Vulture’s gang. Somehow, Vulture became suspicious of Sammy and knocked him off. My car was in the background and the rest is history.” She paused. “Did you hear why Vulture had it in for me?”
“Yes, the old two-headed coin. Who would have guessed?”
The flowers were wheeled in at the same time as a gurney. Hospital volunteers put the bouquets on the windowsill, as transporters lifted Rich onto the gurney.
“What’s going on?” I demanded.
Sidney appeared in the doorway. He walked over to the judge and Penny Sue. “The doctors say Rich is stable. We’re going to transfer him to a safer place. Vulture’s locked up, but he has ties to militant extremists and arms dealers. Rich isn’t safe here.”
Penny Sue started to cry. I started to cry. Ruthie cried. Only Fran and the judge didn’t cry, and they looked close.
“Can I have a moment alone with him?” Penny Sue sobbed.
Sidney nodded and herded us out of the room. We paced in the hall, avoiding each other’s eyes, trying to keep our emotions in check. Ted came over and gave me a hug. Finally, the gurney emerged from the room, and Rich gave us the thumbs up.
I buried my face against Ted’s shoulder, my tears flowing uncontrollably. He stroked my hair and nodded toward the door.
We all rushed in to Penny Sue.
She looked up at us and smiled. “He’ll be back.”