A shadow detached from the trees and came forward, becoming a human figure in camo fatigues, black combat boots, and a screened camo hood as it approached.
I said, “You're dressed for hunting turkeys, ma'am."
Stopping in front of Jenny and making no move to lift her hood, the woman asked, “Who's he?"
"Someone who figured things out,” said Jenny, “What's the situation?"
"Things went as planned,” said Donna, obviously reluctant to speak in front of me. “What was all that about just now?"
"He thought you might be a robber."
Turning a startled look on me, Donna hissed, “You thought ... You couldn't have seen me. No way in hell."
Thumbing over her shoulder at the door, Jenny said, “I need to get back inside. Talk to him. I think he can help."
"But..."
"Just talk to him.” she turned to me and said, “If anyone asks, I'll say you got sick out here."
"Gee, thanks. That'll do wonders for my reputation."
She laughed and went back inside the bar.
I turned to Donna and said, “You're Donna. I'm Ed. What can I do for you, milady?"
"You can tell me how much you think you know."
Nodding, I sat down on the steps and sipped my beer as I said, “You had a problem with what's-his-face and tonight you're getting even plus interest. Sound about right so far?"
"What else?"
"Not much, really. He'll go to jail for trying to kill you with an SUV. That'll give you time to do some stuff, even if he can make bail in a week or so. I'd say you're probably going stick a divorce decree up his ass and light it."
Moving to stand in front of me, she pulled her hood off and shook her dark hair free, then ran her fingers through her hair as she said, “You got it. Let me have a hit of that beer."
Handing her the bottle, I watched her tip it so she could wet the rim, then wipe it with her shirt and take a drink. She stood about five-ten and looked thirty-five or so, with a nice face that had what I think of as ‘character lines'—the lines that continual concern can etch into your face after a while.
I wondered when she'd gone into the Army, what she'd done while in service, and how long she'd been in. The Army prefers to recruit the seventeen-to-twenty-five crowd.
"How long were you in service?” I asked.
"Twelve years."
"That's half a retirement pension. Can you get back in?"
"Sure, if I don't wind up in jail, too. But not until I've cleaned that son of a bitch out.” With a wry grin, she asked, “Want to buy a two-year-old Corvette?"
I laughed, “Oh, I think not, ma'am. You roughed it up some and I prefer a big trunk and four doors."
Donna took another hit of beer and said, “He bought it with my money. Sold my house and bought that goddamned car. I'm hoping there's enough left to ... “—she stopped talking and her eyes met mine—"I just hope there's some left, that's all."
"Mind if I make a suggestion?"
She shrugged. “Go for it."
I took my beer back for a sip, then said, “You're missing. Stay that way for a day or two while you make a close recon. You can always say you ran like hell and hid in the woods."
"A close recon? You mean at my house?"
"Is that where he's staying? I thought you said he sold it?"
"He did, but he doesn't have to be out for another two weeks. Eighteen days, actually."
"Got a key?"
"Yes. I had extra keys made for everything."
"Any reason you shouldn't be in the house?"
"Not unless he files a restraining order while he's in jail."
"Got proof you belong there? ID with that address?"
"Yes. You want to see it?"
"Later. It's too dark to read. I'll make excuses and hit the road in a few minutes. Half a mile up the road there's an overgrown sign for ‘Danielle's Restaurant'. If you aren't there, I'll open the hood and fake a stall. I have a bronze ‘84 Olds."
She took the beer back, wiped it again, and sipped it before saying, “Thanks, but I have a ride."
"Why would Jenny introduce us, Donna? Maybe she thinks I'd be more suitable for what's on your agenda."
"But why would you want to get involved in this?"
I laughed, “Don't ask me stuff like that, ma'am. There's nothing I could say that wouldn't sound like a pass in your present mood."
"Try me."
Shrugging, I said, “Okay. I saw the way you ... flew that Corvette ... across the highway and put it in the ditch. Very impressive. Then you scampered down the highway and disappeared when he tried to run you down. I saw that area; there was no place to hide unless you made one, and I figure it was a covered pit on the far side of the ditch."
Her gaze hardened slightly, but she said nothing.
I continued, “You never intended to take that Corvette anywhere else; you just wanted to make damned sure he'd be pissed enough to come after you. Was the SUV yours, too?"
"Yes. He bought it so he wouldn't have to put too many miles on his egomobile, but he bought it with my money, so it's mine. He even bought a trailer for the damned ‘Vette so he could haul it to shows."
Reaching for the beer again, I took a sip and handed it back, then said, “Anyway ... Seems to me you came here tonight to light the fuse and let him try for you in front of a bar full of witnesses. On top of that, he left the scene, so he became a fugitive. Now he's up to his ass in bad news and you'll have time to work on getting your world back."
Without bothering to wipe the top of the bottle, she took a drink, handed it back to me, and said, “You still haven't told me why you want to help me."
Laughing, I said, “As someone once said to me, ‘I wouldn't miss this trolleycar for the world.’ It might turn out to be something of an adventure, ma'am."
Eyeing me, she asked, “That's it? That's all?"
"Well, I don't know you well enough for much else, do I?"
Chapter Twelve
The beer bottle was empty. I stood up, tossed it into the bottle can, and said, “I'll wait at the sign for half an hour."
"That doesn't give me much time."
Putting my hand on the doorknob, I replied, “I saw you run tonight, ma'am. You could do half a mile in five minutes without breaking a sweat."
With a small salute, I left her on the porch and entered the noisy pub. Jenny waved a beer at me from her post behind the bar, but I shook my head and took a seat in front of her.
"I told her to meet me up the road in half an hour."
"Think she'll do it?"
"Won't know ‘till she gets there. I'll give her an extra few minutes to talk to you about it."
Shaking her head, Jenny said, “No. There's a cop over by the pool tables. The guy in the blue shirt; he came in right after the other cops left. I'm here by myself tonight. If I take too long away from the bar, he'll know something's going on."
"How do you know he's a cop?"
"I've seen him before. My husband was with the sheriff's department for six years. Let me see your driver's license."
I handed over my license. She took notes and handed it back, then said, “Now your phone number."
Once she'd added that to her notes, she said, “Good enough for now,” wrote a number on the back of a bar business card, and said, “My cell phone,” as she handed it to me.
Putting the card in my shirt pocket, I asked, “Mind if I ask why you're handing Donna off to me?"
Jenny met my gaze and leaned across the bar to almost whisper, “I saw you on TV. When that boat went down in the Gulf. I know who you are.” Shaking her head with a slight shrug, she amended, “Well, not exactly who you are, but I know you were out there and you helped people. I recognized you when you came in."
"You're sure about that, huh?"
She nodded and plucked at my shirt. “Oh, yeah. That ol’ car threw me for a minute, but you're even wearing the same shirt you were wearing that night."
Givin
g her a wry look, I said, “Maybe, but I have a bunch of them. Did you tell Donna?"
Shaking her head again, she said, “No. I would have, but I didn't get a chance."
"She may still be out back. I'd better get underway now."
Seizing the flap of my shirt pocket to stop me, Jenny said, “I won't tell her. You want her to know, you tell her."
When I gave her a curious look, she said, “If you wanted people to know, you'd be driving that flitter thing around, not some eighty-something car."
Letting go of my shirt, she made a little ‘shoo-shoo’ gesture with her hand.
"Now go help her nail that bastard and clean up her life."
Straightening up, I replied, “Yes'm. On my way,” and headed for the door. The blue-shirted guy Jenny had said was a cop watched me go by for a moment, then appeared to turn his attention back to the pool game.
Once in my car, I kept an eye on the bar's door and windows as I used several moments to choose a CD from the packet in my console box and put one of the CD's in the dash player.
Sure enough, the blue-shirted guy moved into view in the window near the pool table, leaning on the wall as he sipped a beer and glanced at the parking lot.
The player had to read the MP3 directory on the CD, which took another few moments, then the Thunder Club mix of DaHool's ‘Was Ist-Eichelruck’ started pounding a dance beat.
I made a show of it. I cranked up the volume and kept time on the steering wheel, doing my best to look as if I'd just gotten fed up with country music and decided to split.
The guy was still at the window as I left the parking lot, which meant nothing. He wouldn't be the one to tail me; he'd call the info in and stay put.
Turning the music down, I gave matters some thought. By now the cops likely had ... Blaine? ... in custody. Nobody was still searching the woods across from the bar, but there was a cop quietly stationed inside the bar.
That meant the cops had an idea that something more than a simple domestic dispute was happening or about to happen. They'd be searching for Donna if only to determine whether to charge Blaine with murder or attempted murder.
I drove past the sign and up US-19 another two miles before I turned around and cruised back. The only northbound vehicles I saw were a couple of trucks, a motorcycle, and two cars, all of which seemed intent on getting somewhere further north at the posted speed limit or better.
U-turning again at a crossover halfway between the sign and the bar, I keyed my implant to ask the flitter if there was anyone in the woods between the bar and the sign.
"Yes, Ed. A woman is in a position of concealment thirty-six meters from the sign."
Pulling up near the sign and fairly close to the underbrush behind it, I said, “Thanks, flitter,” unlocked the rear passenger door, popped the hood release, and got out of the car.
Scanning the area, I felt a presence in a southeasterly direction and said, “Hi, there,” before I moved to stand in front of the car. “I'll open the hood and mess with things while you sneak up to the car. The back door's unlocked."
I opened the hood and reached to touch the radiator's overflow bottle, then the alternator. Brush rustled beside the car and I saw Donna slip across the short open space to the back door, which opened and closed fairly quickly.
Closing the hood, I walked around to get back into the car with a glance at the back seat. Donna—or at least someone about the right size, wearing camo fatigues and a hunting hood—was lying on the seat, almost invisible in the darkness.
As I started the car, I asked, “Where to, lady?"
She replied, “Away from here is good enough for now,” as I steered us back onto the highway.
"Then what? You'll have to go home sooner or later to get started on whatever you're going to do. Do you still have the clothes you were wearing earlier this evening?"
"Yes. Are you trying to get rid of me already?"
"Nope. Just thinking ahead a bit. You'll have to look as if you've had a hard night. Act kind of confused and frightened. All that kind of stuff."
"I know that. What are you trying to tell me?"
"Only that I think you ought to change into the other clothes so I can take you to a Denny's and buy you a coffee. We can call the cops from there."
After a brief pause, “That's kind of what I had in mind, too, but not yet. Turn right on Denton Road. I want to have a look at the house before I do anything else."
She put some kind of a bag on the ledge above the back seat, then sat up behind it and looked around. After a moment, she lay flat again. The bag stayed where it was on the ledge.
Deep Dish's ‘Renaissance-Ibiza’ started playing and I turned it up a little.
From the back seat came, “What's that? I've never heard it before."
"A club dance mix. Like it?"
"It's okay. Yeah."
"Like it better than country?"
Donna snorted, “That was his thing. I listen to classical and rock. Turn left on Dwyer Lane. 15321. It'll be two blocks in."
It was a pale yellow two story home with a double-wide garage and big bay windows trimmed in white. A fairly new-looking bass boat on a trailer sat in front of the wooden fence that ringed the back yard. To either side of the house were uncleared lots.
When I glanced in the rearview mirror, Donna was sitting up, hunkered behind the bag to stay out of sight of anyone who might be watching.
I said, “Tell me something, Donna. Why was tonight the night to kick things off?"
"His lawyer left to visit her family yesterday. She'll be out of reach until Blaine gets out of jail or she comes back."
"Uhm ... It's a cellular world these days, Donna."
"Not in some parts of North Carolina. One time the bitch told me her cell phone won't work up there unless she drives to the other side of the mountain."
"Is she the one he was in bed with when you came home?"
"Yeah. She's been helping him clean me out."
"Mind if I ask where you got all the money?"
"My dad left me almost four million. That's the main reason I left the Army. I was going to start my own business.” Slumping down on the seat, she said, “Okay, let's get out of here. Head for the Denny's on County Line Road."
I heard a big zipper slide, then a blouse and a pair of jeans were tossed across the back of the front seat. Various shufflings and a couple of thumps told me when she took off her boots, then I heard her military buckle clank and rattle and the sound of another, smaller zipper.
Men look at women. We can't help it. We don't even want to help it. I glanced in the rearview and saw her lie back to slide out of the fatigue pants. Nice legs, indeed. She grabbed the jeans and worked them up and on, then fastened them and sat up to put on her blouse.
In a caustic tone, she asked, “Enjoy the show?"
"Sure. Ever since I saw you run from that SUV, I just knew you had to have great legs, ma'am. Tell me something else, please; how come you didn't wait for the cops tonight?"
"They'd have given me a hard time about the Corvette and I wanted a look at some things."
"Weren't you living there?"
"Yes, but the boat was in storage. It's at the house now because he had it on the water today and got back too late."
"What's the big deal about the boat?"
"I think it's where he stashes the things I couldn't find in the house. His insurance that I'd cooperate were my stocks, bonds, bankbooks, and my mother's jewelry. He said he put everything in a safe deposit box, but he wouldn't tell me where. I called around. None of the banks had a box registered in his name, but there were two large ones registered in hers."
"The lawyer, you mean."
"Yeah. She helped him get into my bank account with a power of attorney. Esther—at the bank—knew I was in the Army, so she didn't question the need for it."
"Uh, huh. Let's get something out of the way now, Donna. I need some quick proof that you're actually taking your stuff back instead of just taking hi
s stuff."
In the rearview mirror, I saw her face turn angry as she patted her pockets and snidely said, “Oh, so sorry! I seem to be a little short on proof at the moment."
Pulling into the rearmost corner of the Denny's parking lot, I said, “Not necessarily,” and grabbed my coffee mug as I got out of the car and stood beside it.
Donna opened her door and got out, then asked, “What do you mean, ‘not necessarily'? Are you about to offer to help me anyway if I do a little something for you?"
"Just stand by one. Flitter, come pick us up, please."
Giving me a wary look, Donna backed up a pace and asked, “What? Who are you talking to?” Looking around, she amended her question as, “Or who do you think you're talking to?"
A strong gust of wind caught Donna off guard and nearly pushed her into me as the flitter settled to earth behind my car. She whipped around and stared, saw nothing, and turned back to me. I turned her back around and gave her a little push forward so she'd be inside the flitter's field.
Chapter Thirteen
Donna disappeared along with most of both my arms until I followed her into the field. She stood staring at the flitter as I stepped aboard and offered her a hand up.
For a long moment, she continued to stare wide-eyed and open mouthed at me, then she took my hand and stepped aboard. I told the flitter to take us up to five hundred feet, then led Donna to a seat by the console.
Her dark blue blouse, jeans, and sneakers were generously anointed with mud, which led me to believe that my guess about her having concealed herself in a pit might have been right on the mark.
There were some long, tense moments of silence before she spoke without taking her eyes off the scenery below.
"Well, at least I know now why Jenny dropped you on me tonight. When did she call you? Yesterday or tonight?"
"Neither. She recognized me when I came to the bar."
Turning to face me, she snapped, “What?! You mean you two didn't even know each other before tonight?!"
"I'm pretty sure that's what I just said, ma'am."
3rd World Products, Inc. Book 7 Page 7