Maverick Mania

by Sigmund Brouwer

  “I thought being a detective was more cool than this,” he said. “You know. Beautiful women who need help. Chasing bad guys. Stuff like that.”

  “I agree,” I said. “Detectives should drive Corvettes or Porsches, not family vans with jelly beans on the floor and old, dog-hair-covered blankets in the backseat.”

  Steve pointed at the newspaper article on the console between our seats. “If it wasn’t for that, I’d think we were crazy.”

  “We’ll give it a half hour more, okay?” I turned my wrist so my watch could catch some light. “I need to get home by then anyway.”

  Steve snorted. “And detectives definitely don’t have to get home on time.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said.

  “What about when we leave?” Steve asked. “I still think we should get some police here.”

  “No,” I said. “They’ll probably think that this is a dumb idea.”

  “My point exactly. And we missed the best half of the mov—”

  He snapped his mouth shut and slumped lower behind the steering wheel.

  Headlights.

  I ducked lower too.

  The light swept over us as the car turned into the street. The car passed us. I saw it wasn’t a car. But a Blazer.

  Charlie Riggins.

  We watched by turning and peeking over the seats through the back window.

  When the Blazer pulled into the driveway, the dogs came running around the corner from the back. Mr. Riggins climbed out and squatted next to the animals. He rubbed their heads and their bellies.

  Of all the stuff I knew already, that one little action made me the maddest. How could he be such a jerk to his family but still love his dogs so much?

  A few moments later, Charlie Riggins walked around to the back of the house. Both dogs followed.

  “Too bad we’re parked so far away,” Steve whispered. “Your idea about the tape was a good one.”

  On our way here from the movie theater, we had decided we would follow him as far as we could. Then we would turn around and tell the police where he had gone. I had suggested trying to put some duct tape over one of his taillights. With only one tail-light showing, it would be much easier to follow him from a distance.

  “I know,” I said. “But if he catches us...”

  After talking it over, we had decided there was so little traffic at this time of night we could stay a long way back and follow without losing him.

  Which—five minutes later—we did.

  chapter nineteen

  Charlie Riggins backed out of his driveway. The headlights of his Blazer shone through the inside of the minivan. Steve and I were ready, though, and had ducked beneath the dash. To Charlie Riggins, the minivan would seem empty.

  He sped by. His taillights glowed red as he braked for the corner. He turned right. Down McCulloch Boulevard toward the lake.

  “Like you,” I said.

  “What?” Steve asked. “You like me?”

  “No, the taillights. They should be easy to follow. Just remember they’re like you.”

  “Like me?”

  I grinned. “Yeah. Tall and skinny.”

  “Ha, ha,” Steve said. “You want to follow him on your mountain bike?”

  Steve waited a few seconds after Riggins had turned before starting the minivan. He put it into gear and we pulled ahead slowly. When we reached the corner, those tall and skinny taillights showed the Blazer had at least a two-block lead. Close enough that we could stay with him. Far enough away that he probably wouldn’t notice us.

  We got even luckier. At the stop sign, we had to wait for a car on our left to pass us. That put a car between us and Riggins all the way down McCulloch Boulevard.

  “What do you think?” Steve asked as we neared the business section of town at the bottom of the long hill. “Is he going to the marina?”

  “I doubt it,” I answered. “That would mean the pontoon boat is docked there. It would be too easy for Caleb to escape.”

  Sure enough, Riggins turned left to reach Highway 95 instead of continuing straight to go over the London Bridge to the marina.

  “Good,” I said.

  “Good? What if he’s leaving town? Maybe I should use my cell phone,” Steve said. “Call the police.”

  “That’s assuming you’ve actually charged it for once,” I said. That was just jealousy speaking. My parents didn’t want me to have one. “But even if you did, what could the police do? Let’s wait and see before we call.”

  “He could get away.”

  “The lake only goes as far as the dam at Parker. And that’s barely twenty miles away. I doubt he put his pontoon boat in the river on the other side of the dam. That means he’s got to pull off between here and the dam. At the most, we’ll only have to follow him twenty minutes before turning around to get the police.”

  We kept following. Riggins stuck to the speed limit through town. And he stuck to the raised speed limit outside of town. He probably didn’t want to risk calling attention to himself by getting a speeding ticket.

  That made it easy for us to follow him. We gave him a half-mile lead. Even though the desert highway was empty of all vehicles except for his and ours, I wasn’t worried. To him, we were just another pair of headlights.

  The moon had risen over the mountain ridges, almost bright enough for us to drive without headlights. It gave a beautiful blue-gray glow to the barren desert, so strong that crosslike shadows fell from every cactus we passed.

  The highway south of Lake Havasu City is mainly straight and flat for about ten miles, with the lake on the right just out of sight. As the highway nears the end of the valley, it begins to dip and twist and turn where the low mountains on each side grow closer together.

  All the way along the straight sections of highway, those tall and skinny taillights drew us like red beacons. We lost the lights briefly as the highway cut into the first dipping turn. Thirty seconds later, they reappeared as we made the turn, then disappeared again as Riggins topped the small hill ahead of us and dropped down the other side.

  No other cars had joined us. We were still the only vehicles on this stretch of highway. It was dark and lonely, with the ribbon of pavement gleaming pale beneath the moonlight.

  “Man,” Steve said. “You know what this area is like. There are a couple of cutoff roads that lead from the highway to the lake. If he turns off while he’s out of sight, we’ll pass him without even knowing it.”

  “Maybe speed up?” I offered.

  Steve gave the minivan a little more gas as we went up the hill.

  As we crested the hill, Steve slammed on the brakes.

  We didn’t have to worry about losing Riggins. The Blazer was just ahead, parked on the shoulder, with the emergency flashers on.

  “Now what?” Steve said. “We can’t stop. But if we keep going, we might lose him.”

  We had less than twenty seconds to decide.

  “Slow down,” I said, “just like you would if you were passing any other car. When we get past him, we’ll pull over and hide somewhere off the highway and wait for him to pass us again.”

  Ten seconds.

  “You don’t think he knows we’re following him?”

  “Impossible,” I answered. “We’re just another set of headlights.”

  Five seconds. Charlie Riggins suddenly stepped onto the highway with a flashlight, waving his arms to stop us.

  Steve slammed on the brakes. “Now what?”

  I didn’t answer. I was too busy diving into the backseat. Unlike Steve, I was wearing our soccer team sweats. Mr. Riggins might not recognize me, but he’d know the team uniform.

  “Now what?” Steve repeated.

  “Stop,” I said, getting down on the floor and pulling a smelly blanket over me. “Like you would for any guy waving you down. Tell him you’re on your way to Parker, and you’ll get help for him there. What’s he going to do, pull a gun?”

  Steve stopped. He rolled down the window.

&
nbsp; “Car problems,” Charlie Riggins said. From a crack under the blanket, I watched Mr. Riggins shine the flashlight into Steve’s face. “Thanks for stopping.”

  “I’m going to Parker,” Steve said. “I’ll send a tow truck back to help.”

  I tried not to sneeze from the dog hairs on the smelly blanket. Toys on the floor of the van pushed uncomfortably into my stomach and legs.

  “No, you won’t,” Riggins told Steve with a sudden snarl. “I’ve seen you before. You’re going to tell me why you followed me from my house.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t but me, punk. Your left headlight is burned out. I first noticed you when you pulled out of my street. I want you to tell me why you’re following me.”

  That made me wrong about us being just another set of headlights.

  “But—”

  “Are you the jerk who messed with my dogs last night?” As Charlie Riggins spoke, he played his flashlight beam over the inside of the van. I didn’t know it until later, but he stopped the beam on the newspaper article that I had left on the console in plain sight. The picture of the dead family must have leaped out at him.

  “Get this van on the shoulder now,” Mr. Riggins nearly yelled. He pulled a pistol from his jacket. “Or I’ll shoot you where you sit.”

  The gun, of course, made me wrong yet again.

  chapter twenty

  Charlie Riggins stayed beside the driver’s window as Steve slowly drove to the shoulder of the highway. He didn’t give Steve a chance to hit the gas and escape. He didn’t give me a chance to talk to Steve.

  Steve put the minivan in park and turned on the flashers so no one would hit the van.

  “Out,” Mr. Riggins barked.

  “Wh...wh...where are we going?” Steve asked.

  “You’ll find out soon enough. Just like soon enough you’re going to tell me where you got that newspaper article.”

  Steve opened the door slowly. The interior light of the minivan flashed on. I held my breath and stayed under the blanket, shivering with fear. Why hadn’t I listened to Captain Briscoe and stayed out of this?

  Charlie Riggins didn’t notice me on the floor in the back.

  “You made a big mistake, kid,” I heard him say as Steve stepped out. “If people here know about that car accident, I have nothing to lose. Which means you better not try anything stupid.”

  Because the driver’s window was still open, I heard them both walk to the truck. Once they were inside, I heard the Blazer drive away.

  I pushed up quickly, throwing the blanket off and gulping for breath.

  What could I do? If I followed, the burned-out headlight would give me away. If I turned around and went for the police, we might never find them. And even if we did, it might be too late for Steve, or Caleb.

  I grabbed Steve’s cell phone. As I checked for the signal strength, the battery went dead. I banged it against my head in frustration. Any other time, it would have been funny that Steve always ran his battery down.

  I watched those tall and skinny tail-lights get smaller in the darkness. Suddenly, they brightened as Charlie Riggins hit the brakes.

  Was he stopping to turn around? I got ready to dive under the smelly blanket again.

  No! He was turning off the highway, toward the lake.

  That helped my decision. But not much. Going back to Lake Havasu City for help—or even going the shorter distance ahead to the stores and restaurants near Parker Dam and calling back to Lake Havasu City—might take too long. Risky as it sounded, it seemed like all I could do was follow the truck on foot.

  I began to open the door. Then I remembered the interior light and froze. If Charlie Riggins saw it flash on, he might turn back.

  I waited for the truck’s taillights to disappear as the Blazer drove alongside a gully that led to the lakeshore.

  I finally opened the door and hopped out.

  I took two steps. Then I thought of something.

  I turned back to the minivan. First I ran to the rear and dug around to find a tire iron. It was all I could think of for protection. Then I rummaged in the glove compartment and found a pen and paper. It took less than a minute for me to do what I needed to do.

  When I was ready, I jumped out of the van.

  Tire iron in hand, I hit the ground running.

  It was easy to follow the sandy road that led to the lake. Moonlight gave me a clear view of the desert brush on each side. Where the road dropped into the gully, I dipped in and out of dark shadows as I ran.

  It only took ten minutes to near the lake’s edge. I saw the Blazer parked at the end of the road. I expected the pontoon boat to be anchored nearby.

  I was wrong again.

  The ten minutes it had taken for me to get there had been enough time. Charlie Riggins had tied a sweatshirt around Steve’s face so he would be too blind to try to escape. Steve sat in the front of a small rubber dinghy, the one from the pontoon boat. And they were already motoring away from shore.

  The ripples looked like silver snakes on the calm dark water. I hid behind the Blazer and watched as they moved farther away. The pontoon boat, then, was somewhere on the other side.

  There is something about sound on water. People who fish will tell you that in their own boat, they can barely hear each other above the noise of their outboard motor. So they talk louder. But for some reason, their conversation carries away from the boat above the sound of the outboard, so people a couple hundred yards away can easily hear what they’re saying.

  I heard.

  “Just so you know, punk, you’re going to spend some time with Caleb. About as long as it takes to sink a pontoon boat.”

  chapter twenty-one

  You’re going to spend some time with Caleb. About as long as it takes to sink a pontoon boat.

  Did that mean what I thought it meant? Was Charlie Riggins going to drown Steve and Caleb?

  Panic squeezed me. What could I do? What could I do? What could—

  I put my right thumb in my mouth and bit as hard as I could. The pain was like a slap across the face. I took a deep breath and I told myself I needed to imagine this was a soccer play. I’m the last man back with the ball. Just my goalie is behind me. Twenty guys are spread out on the field in front of me—nine on my team, eleven on the other. I see two guys coming at me to take the ball.

  Look at the situation. Make the best choice possible in the time remaining. And act on your decision.

  All right, I thought. I would give myself however long it took to come up with the best solution. Fortunately, I had more than the one or two seconds I normally have on the soccer field.

  Looking at it that way relaxed me.

  The situation was simple. Once Charlie Riggins reached the pontoon boat, he was going to find a way to sink it. I needed to be there. Without getting caught.

  Did I have a boat of my own?

  No.

  What did I have?

  A tire iron. And the Blazer parked beside me.

  Could I use the Blazer?

  No, it wouldn’t float.

  What else did I have?

  I knew how to swim.

  I gave myself another half minute to try to find another solution. I couldn’t.

  It wasn’t even a mile across the lake here. I had never swum from shore to shore, but I knew I could do it. I was in good shape from soccer, and I’d had plenty of swimming lessons. The water wasn’t so cold that it would kill me. I didn’t have to worry about sharks.

  And there definitely wasn’t time to go for help. Swimming was my only choice.

  I just had to get in the water.

  I dropped the tire iron and leaned against the Blazer as I kicked off my shoes and peeled off my sweat suit and T-shirt. It left me barefoot in my shorts.

  Briefly, I wondered about the tire iron. I told myself it was too heavy to carry as I swam.

  Then I noticed the locked fuel flap on the side of the truck. It gave me an idea. I could at least use the tire iron t
o pry it open, couldn’t I?

  And once it was open, I could...

  I grinned in the darkness. Whatever happened in the next half hour, I would be happy knowing I had done something to make trouble for Charlie Riggins.

  Once I was finished with the gas tank, I hid my clothes. If Charlie Riggins got back without seeing me in the lake, I didn’t want him to know I’d been here.

  Then I stepped into the lake. I walked until the water was waist deep. The water sent shock waves running up my body. I didn’t stop to think about how cold it was. I dove forward into the dark water.

  chapter twenty-two

  The putt-putt of the small outboard motor on the rubber dinghy got farther and farther away. Riggins was cutting at an angle across the lake. By the time I started swimming, it was at least the length of four soccer fields away from shore. As I swam, that distance grew and grew.

  I wasn’t worried about Riggins seeing or hearing me in the water behind him.

  While the moonlight showed the jagged edges of the low mountains on the other side of the lake and the pale gleam of my arms as I lifted them out of the water, most of my body was hidden in the depths of the dark water. Even if he happened to look back, he would probably see nothing but lake.

  I tried to swim steadily. I tried to block all thoughts from my mind. I tried not to remember that Lake Havasu was really a dammed-up section of the Colorado River, and that somewhere far below me was the old riverbed. And that the water was cold and dark and deep and...

  Soccer. Soccer. Soccer. I put my mind on soccer.

  The Mavericks had won three games, tied one and lost one. We shared second place with two other teams. If we ended in a tie with any team, the higher ranking would go to the team with the most goals scored. That meant we really, really needed Caleb. Tomorrow morning, if we all got to the...

  I gritted my teeth and kept swimming.

  Tomorrow morning, when we all got to the soccer field, we would keep feeding the ball to Caleb and let him pour in the goals. That would leave us with one last game in the afternoon. If we won that, we would move on to the sudden-death playoff on Thursday.