Insane City

by Dave Barry

  “Because of the yards?”

  “The yards are different, but also one is Total Care and one is Cleanburst.”

  “And which one do I have?”

  “The Cleanburst.”

  “Let me see if I have a coupon for that.”

  “I do not fucking believe this,” said Castronovo.

  Delgado was about ten feet behind the Escalade. The left rear door from which Meghan had exited was open, but from his angle Delgado couldn’t see inside. He moved to his left to get a better view. As he did, he saw a look pass between Meghan and Seth.

  Then he saw Trevor.

  Fucking animal calls.

  Delgado put his hand on the Glock.

  “Wait a minute!” said Meghan. “Don’t shoot it! That’s a harmless animal!”

  Delgado, ignoring her, used his free hand to key the police radio microphone clipped to his collar. He identified himself, then requested backup and gave his location. When that was done, he started sidestepping toward Seth, Brewer and Meghan, keeping his eyes on Trevor.

  “Now,” he said, “I want to know what’s going on here.”

  “I never saw that thing before in my life,” said Brewer. This was true; he had not noticed Trevor until Delgado had, and he was just as surprised. Also just as unhappy. Like Delgado, Brewer was not a fan of animals.

  “There’s a perfectly innocent explanation,” said Seth.

  “I’m listening,” said Delgado, eyes still on Trevor.

  “OK, it’s a long story, but, basically, I’m getting married today.”

  Delgado shot him a glance. “And so that’s why you’re driving around with an ape in your car?”

  “I know it sounds weird.”

  “It does,” said Delgado. “But we’re going to get it sorted out.”

  From the distance came the faint whoop of sirens.

  “Here’s the problem,” Meghan said to Delgado. “I’m in the wedding, too. My sister’s the bride. I’m the maid of honor.”

  “Congratulations,” said Delgado.

  “But the thing is, we really can’t stay here and get involved in a whole big production. We have to get ready for the wedding. We really have to leave right now, OK?”

  “I’m afraid you can’t do that,” said Delgado.

  “Why not?” said Meghan. “What right have you got to keep us here?”

  Delgado nodded toward Trevor. “I have probable cause to believe that this animal may have been involved in a robbery,” said Delgado. “Among other things.”

  “What?” said Meghan. “That’s the stupidest thing I ever—” She stopped, feeling Seth’s hand on her arm.

  “What?” she whispered.

  “We had an incident last night,” he whispered back. He glanced toward Trevor.

  She stared at him, then whispered, “Did you rob somebody with that thing?”

  Delgado was looking at them.

  “I’ll explain later,” whispered Seth.

  “Holy shit,” said Meghan.

  The sirens were still distant but getting louder.

  The elderly woman and the cashier were focusing on her third item, which was a tube of ChapStick. The problem, as the clerk was explaining, was that she had selected a tube of ChapStick Medicated and the coupon she had was good for only ChapStick Moisturizer, ChapStick Ultra 30 or ChapStick Lip Shield 365.

  “OK,” the woman said, “is moisturizer similar to medicated? Could I just switch them maybe?”

  “They’re really two different purposes,” the cashier said. “But I think there’s an offer, with the medicated, where you can get a one-dollar mail-in rebate.”

  “What do I have to mail in?” said the woman.

  “A proof of purchase,” said the cashier.

  “How do I get that?”

  “You have to buy the ChapStick.”

  “Which one do I have to buy?”

  “I’m going to fucking kill myself,” said Castronovo.

  The entire sequence of events took seventy-one seconds. It began when Meghan made a civilian mistake.

  Meghan, being rich and pretty and in possession of a healthy pair of breasts, was used to getting her way, especially with men, even when what she wanted was not technically allowed. People bent the rules for Meghan, and she was able, thanks to the fact that she was also funny and charming, to make them feel good about doing it. It was rare for Meghan to be told no.

  Right now it was very important to Meghan that she and Seth not get arrested because that would wreck her sister’s wedding. It was also important to her that Laurette and her kids not get taken into custody by the authorities. And it was important to Meghan, although less so, that the orangutan not be harmed.

  Meghan saw that the way to achieve all three of these objectives was to persuade this police officer to simply let them all go right now, before more police arrived, which, to judge from the sound of the sirens, would be soon. Meghan, who had talked her way out of countless speeding tickets, including the time she had been clocked going 102 miles per hour in a 55 zone, sincerely believed she could do this. She even believed that, with a little luck, she could do it in such a way that the Haitians got into the Escalade with her, Seth, Cyndi and Trevor and they would drive off, leaving the assholes Castronovo and Brewer behind.

  This was Meghan’s plan. The key was for her to work her charm on the officer. Quickly.

  She walked up to Delgado, smiling what she knew from experience was a winning smile suggesting warmth and just a hint of sexuality. “Look, Officer,” she said, putting a little huskiness in her voice. “First of all, I’m very sorry about yelling at you.”

  Meghan reached out her hand. She had found that physical contact had a positive effect on people, especially men. She rested her hand on Delgado’s right forearm. This was the forearm connected to the hand that was resting on the butt of the still-holstered Glock.

  That was Meghan’s big mistake.

  “So what you’re saying,” the coupon woman was saying, “is that if I buy the one I’m buying, the medicated, you’ll give me a dollar rebate?”

  “No,” said the cashier. “I give you proof of purchase and you have to mail that in to get the rebate.”

  “Mail what in?”

  “Excuse me,” said Castronovo, tapping the woman on her shoulder. She turned around and looked at him.

  “Let me show you how a normal, non-retarded human being buys things at a drugstore,” he said. “Let’s say you wanted to buy this”—he reached past the coupon woman and put the Huggies on the counter—“and this”—he put the Enfamil on the counter. “Now, watch closely. What you do is, you get out your wallet”—he got out his wallet, opened it, removed a $100 bill—“and YOU PAY FOR IT WITH NORMAL FUCKING MONEY.” He slapped the bill on the counter, picked up the Huggies and the Enfamil and started walking toward the exit.

  For a moment, the woman and the cashier watched him.

  Then the woman said, “Wasn’t I ahead of him?”

  “Sir!” called the cashier.

  Castronovo stopped, looked back.

  “The Huggies Little Snugglers are buy one, get one free,” said the cashier.

  Castronovo gave him the finger, then resumed walking.

  Police officers do not like to be touched. They especially do not like to be touched by civilians when they are in high-stress situations that they believe pose a threat of physical harm, such as when they are operating solo and are surrounded by suspicious-acting individuals, some of them males. Not to mention an orangutan.

  When Meghan’s hand touched Officer Delgado’s arm, he wasn’t looking at her, wasn’t expecting the contact. He was focusing most of his attention on Trevor, but he was glancing frequently at Seth and Brewer—especially Brewer, who hadn’t done much but who looked to Delgado like a potential problem. Delgado didn’t like this situation, not at all. Outside, he was a calm and experienced cop waiting for backup; inside, he was a piano wire tightened to its limit.

  So when Delgado fel
t Meghan’s hand on the arm he planned to use to defend himself if something went down, he reacted forcefully, with the survival instincts of a streetwise cop. Without even turning his head, he threw his right elbow out sideways, getting Meghan’s hand off his arm and sending her staggering away.

  That was Officer Delgado’s big mistake.

  Trevor, who had been intently watching as his female approached this unfamiliar male, launched himself from the Escalade, using both his legs and his extremely powerful arms to cover the distance between him and the rival male in less than a second. It was a testament to Delgado’s alertness and reflexes that he was able to get his Glock clear of the holster. But he had no chance to aim and fire before one-eighth of a ton of irate great ape slammed directly into his chest, sending him backward, airborne, the Glock flying high into the air, spinning against the brilliant blue sky like the bone in 2001: A Space Odyssey.

  Officer Delgado landed on his back in the parking lot, his head banging hard on the asphalt. By the time his Glock came clanking down twenty feet away, Brewer had his hand inside his sport jacket and was pulling out his Smith & Wesson Model 64, the six-shot revolver he’d carried ever since he started out at the NYPD. He got it clear from the holster and swung it toward Trevor.

  That was Brewer’s big mistake. Trevor, who hated guns, and especially hated having guns pointed at him, launched from where he stood and landed on Brewer before he could squeeze the trigger. The two of them went down, the gun clattering away on the asphalt. As Brewer landed on his back, Trevor, on top, sank his teeth into Brewer’s nose. Brewer emitted a high-pitched, un-bodyguard-like yelp.

  Ten seconds had passed.

  Meghan, seeing Delgado out cold and Brewer battling a pissed-off orangutan chomping on his face, shouted, “Get in the car! Get in the car!” She shoved Seth toward the driver’s seat of the Escalade and started around to the passenger side. Meanwhile Cyndi, quickly picking up on the plan, grabbed Laurette and Stephane and pushed them into the backseat.

  Fifteen seconds had passed. Seth started the engine. Meghan was halfway around the front of the Escalade.

  Trevor was blocking her path.

  He’d seen her running and he was definitely not about to let her go, not after defeating two males so he could have her. So he’d jumped up from biting Brewer’s face and shot around in front of Meghan, preparing to make the traditional mating noises that instinct told him would win her heart.

  Twenty seconds had passed. Brewer, blood pouring down his face from his wounded nose, was starting to get up, looking around for his revolver.

  Meghan, trying desperately to get around Trevor, danced left, then right, then left again. Trevor stayed right in front of her, moving with her, interpreting her actions as receptive and flirtatious. Trevor was starting to get a boner.

  It went away instantly when Brewer fired the first shot.

  The shot missed; Brewer, ordinarily an excellent marksman, had been shaken by Trevor’s attack and his hands were trembling with rage. He started toward Meghan and Trevor, gun extended. They both turned and took off across the parking lot, Meghan running, Trevor bounding along using his arms. Meghan’s goal was to reach Officer Delgado’s police cruiser and use it as a shield. Trevor’s goal was to get away from the scary noise.

  Brewer walked around the front of the Escalade, stopped, steadied himself, inhaled and squeezed off another shot. Trevor yelped in pain and fell. Brewer started walking again.

  Thirty-three seconds had passed.

  Meghan heard the second shot but did not turn; she kept running, thinking only of getting away. She reached the cruiser and ran behind it. Delgado had left the driver’s-side door open and the engine running. Keeping herself low, Meghan peeked over the roof of the car. In an instant her terror turned to rage. “GET AWAY FROM HIM!” she shouted.

  Brewer, approaching the fallen Trevor, stopped and looked up at her. His face, shirt and sport jacket were drenched in blood. He looked away from Meghan and resumed walking toward Trevor, holding his revolver out in front with both hands.

  “No you fucking will not,” shouted Meghan. She jumped into the cruiser, slammed it into gear and stomped the accelerator, yanking the wheel hard right. The cruiser fishtailed, and Meghan fought the wheel. She got it straightened out just as she reached Brewer, who was standing next to Trevor, aiming down. He saw her just in time to jump, landing on his side on the hood of the cruiser. Meghan drove straight ahead, carrying him ten yards, almost to the pharmacy entrance. Then she slammed the brakes and spun the wheel hard right, sending Brewer sliding off the hood and tumbling toward the building.

  Forty-six seconds had passed.

  Meghan circled the cruiser, tires screaming, back to where Trevor lay. She jumped out to look at him. He was bleeding from his right leg. He was not moving but his eyes were open. He looked at her and blinked.

  She could hear the sound of sirens, much closer now.

  “Meghan!”

  She looked up and saw Seth, who’d driven the Escalade over, shouting out the window.

  “Get in!” he said. “If the police get here, we’re totally fucked.”

  Meghan stood up, took a step toward the Escalade.

  Sirens.

  “Come on, Meghan,” said Seth.

  She looked down at Trevor. He blinked again.

  “I don’t believe I’m doing this,” she said. She ran behind Trevor, got her arms under his, started dragging him toward the cruiser.

  “Meghan!” shouted Seth. “What are you doing?”

  Meghan was in good shape, but Trevor was heavier than he looked. Meghan, grunting, got him a few feet closer to the cruiser, then opened the rear door. She went to drag him again. He suddenly seemed to grasp the plan and helped her, using his good leg and his arms. Together they got him into the cruiser. Meghan closed the door. She could see flashing lights coming from the east on Miami Gardens Drive. She jumped back into the driver’s seat, then leaned out the doorway and shouted to Seth. “NO MATTER WHAT, GET BACK TO THE HOTEL, OK? JUST MAKE IT TO TINA’S WEDDING.”

  Before Seth could answer, she slammed the door. The cruiser engine roared, the tires smoked, and Meghan and Trevor shot across the parking lot, making a screaming right onto Miami Gardens Drive. The Escalade was close behind.

  Seventy-one seconds had passed since Meghan had touched Officer Delgado’s arm.

  Castronovo emerged from the pharmacy, holding the Enfamil and the Huggies. The first thing he noticed was a police cruiser and a black Escalade leaving the parking lot at a high rate of speed.

  The second thing he noticed was the sound of sirens.

  The third thing he noticed was Brewer, slowly getting to his feet, blood all over his front.

  “What the fuck?” said Castronovo.

  “Get in the car!” said Brewer, limping toward the Navigator and yanking open the passenger door. “We have to get the fuck out of here now.”

  Castronovo got into the driver’s seat and tossed the diapers and formula into the back. This was when he noticed the fourth thing, which was that the backseat was empty.

  “Where are the Haitians?” he said.

  “Not now!” said Brewer. “Just go! GO!”

  Castronovo reversed it fast and swung out into the parking lot. That was when he noticed the fifth thing, which was a Miami-Dade police officer getting unsteadily to his feet. He looked over at Brewer and said, “What the fuck happened out here?”

  “Later,” snapped Brewer. He pointed east. “That way.”

  Castronovo turned right out of the parking lot on Miami Gardens Drive. Less than a minute later, the first of the backup Miami-Dade Police units arrived from the west and pulled into the parking lot and screeched to a halt next to Officer Delgado, who was standing on wobbly legs, looking around for his weapon, knowing he was not going to be getting home anytime soon.

  50

  Blaze Gear checked her watch and allowed herself a small smile. They were wrapping up the bridal timeline briefing, and they
were right on schedule. They were now reviewing the cake-cutting ceremony, which would be personally supervised by the internationally renowned master cake maker who had created the cake and who had been flown in with an assistant first class from Paris.

  Marcia had just raised a concern regarding the cake forks when Tracee reentered the suite and reported that she had been unable to locate Meghan in the hotel or on the grounds. Marcia frowned at this news, but Tina only smiled.

  “She’ll show up,” said Tina. “She’s just punishing me because we had an argument last night. She probably took a walk down the beach. But she’ll be here.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” said Marcia. She was feeling strangely mellow today after a night of deep sleep, which was rare for her.

  “Of course I’m right,” said Tina. “Mom, it’s Meghan. Right now she’s sitting under a palm tree, smoking a joint.”

  Marcia sighed. That would be Meghan, all right.

  They resumed their discussion of Marcia’s fork concern. Nearby, on the screen of the muted TV, Action 5 News anchorperson Lisbeth Renaldo was frowning into the camera over a superimposed headline that said APE GANG STRIKES AGAIN. But none of the women were looking in that direction. They were on a tight schedule.

  51

  For the fiftieth time in two minutes, Meghan glanced at the rearview mirror of the police cruiser. The Escalade was still behind her. That was reassuring. She turned her head and took a quick look back through the metal prisoner grille. Trevor was curled up on the backseat, not moving, but his eyes were open and they met hers for a second.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  The police radio was active, emitting a constant stream of exchanges, most of which Meghan did not understand. She found the volume knob and turned it all the way down. She was crossing West Dixie Highway. Signs ahead told her that the road was about to dead-end into Biscayne Boulevard. Meghan wasn’t sure where exactly she was, but figured that heading south would put her in roughly the direction of Key Biscayne, so as she approached the traffic light she pulled into the right-hand lane and put on the cruiser’s right-turn signal. Behind her, Seth did the same in the Escalade. They turned southbound on Biscayne Boulevard and came to another light, which was red, with several cars stopped. Meghan pulled up behind them and glanced into her rearview.