Bike Week Blues (23 page)

“Penny Sue’s not the hysterical type,”
Frannie stated flatly. “And, we can contribute a lot more than
reassurance.”

Bobby shoveled in a forkful of lasagna. “
This is excellent, by the way.”

“Friggin’ A,” Fran said.

* * *

Bobby and Saul were solidly built men who’d
kept themselves in good shape. My guess was that they worked out at
the gym several times a week. Their old buddy Roger was built like
a brick sh—well, you get the idea. We’re talking prime Arnold
Schwarzenegger, including a hint of a Germanic accent. He filled
the entire doorway—top to bottom, side to side—when he thundered
into the kitchen. Thomas, the Klingon, immediately got up and
offered him the seat next to me. Still sitting, I had to look up at
his shoulder. No wonder Bobby said Roger and Saul could handle
Vulture. One glimpse at this former Navy Seal and Penny Sue might
stomp Vulture herself to get at Roger. Even the largely unflappable
Frannie May did a double take at the big guy.

Another Klingon who’d finished eating gave
up his seat to Saul. Fran and Ruthie immediately appeared with
plates of pasta and bread. I noticed that Ruthie made a point of
serving Saul. Bobby quickly filled his buddies in on the new
developments. For the most part they listened without comment as
they scarfed up the pasta and bread. The mention of the Atlas V and
Stinger got Roger’s attention.

“Man, these guys are
verrucht,
crazy.
That’s bad. Men like that will do anything.”

“Vulture has that reputation,” Bobby said.
“I think you have to treat this bunch like a cult—loose cannons
that might go off at any minute.”

Roger shook his head and resumed eating.

His reaction was not reassuring. At some
level, I wanted these men to tell me that Vulture and his crew were
merely a bunch of blustering fools. But, if Roger—the Incredible
Hulk lookalike—thought the situation was bad, it was truly
dreadful. My stomach drew up into a hard knot at that realization
and I pushed my plate away. No more food for this puppy.

Bobby continued with the briefing, letting
Carl explain the capabilities of The Bird of Prey. That, too, got
Roger’s attention.

“You came up with this yourself?” he
asked.

“I had help from my friends.” Carl waved at
the group standing around the kitchen.

“This boat has stealth capabilities and can
scan the coast for heat signatures?”

“Yes.”

“And you did this all for a
Star Trek
game?”

“It’s not just a game,” Carl replied
defensively. “It’s a role-playing exercise.”

Roger laughed—a deep rumble on the order of
a 7.5 earthquake. “I like Worf and Kahless.”

Every jaw in the room dropped. Roger was a
Trekkie! The sparkle in Carl’s eye was unmistakable. I could almost
hear the wheels whirling in his head, planning how he could recruit
Roger for his team. I also noticed Todd’s face droop
noticeably.

The big man pointed at Frannie’s glass of
wine and nodded.

“I’m sorry, how rude of me.” She hurried to
a cabinet, pulled out two stemmed glasses and prepared to pour.

“No sissy glass, please. I’d rather have one
like yours.”

Ruthie handed Fran a juice glass for Roger.
Saul declined the offer in favor of water.

Roger downed the wine in one gulp. Fran
hovered at his shoulder and refilled his glass.

Everyone looked at Bobby, the silent
question hanging in the air, “Should Roger be drinking?”

With a flick of his thumb, Bobby
communicated, “No problem.”

Considering Roger’s bulk, the glass of wine
was probably as intoxicating to him as gargling with Listerine. In
any event, this man, who’d never met Penny Sue, was willing to risk
his life to save her. That went a long way in my book. I could
almost hear Grammy Martin say, “Judge not, least ye be not judged,”
then a “The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

Yes, ma’am
. Klingons, Romulans, and
Navy Seals—I’d try not to judge it all. On the plus side, I had to
admit my narrow, sheltered life had broadened considerably since my
divorce.

Bobby went on to explain his two-front
assault plan. Todd, Saul, and Roger would do reconnaissance,
pinpoint the gang’s location with The Bird of Prey, and ultimately
do the takedown. Their objective was to stop the Stinger missile.
Meanwhile, Bobby and the rest of us would create a distraction and
go after Penny Sue and Rich.

There was some discussion on whether Roger
would fit into The Bird of Prey. A customized, stealthized skiff,
it held three people, tops. Everyone finally agreed the plan would
work if Roger sat in the middle at the apex of an angular
protrusion, and Todd kept the hatch open while they motored along
on gas power. Once in range of Playalinda Beach, where they’d
switch to electric, the top would go down, and Roger would have to
hunch forward. “No problem,” he assured us, draining the second
glass of wine.

Now, for the distraction.

“The pontoon boat at the center makes a
little over six miles an hour, which means it will take five hours
to get to Playalinda.” Bobby checked his watch, it was
seven-thirty. “Going at night won’t slow us down much, I know those
waterways like the back of my hand.”

Suddenly, I realized what he’d said. “We’re
going to steal the tour boat from the Marine Center?” I asked.

“Borrow. Otherwise, we might be glowing
tomorrow. Us and everyone in this area.”

Good point.

Carl spoke up. “I think our old Klingon
assault would be the best distraction.” He scanned his friends.
“We’ve practiced it a million times and have it down pat. It would
scare the hell out of anyone except Todd and his Romulans. Scared
them the first few times. Vulture’s never seen it!”

“What is the Klingon assault?” Bobby
asked.

“We swoop down on dirt bikes, shouting
Klingon battle cries with paintballs flying and lasers
flashing.”

“That might do it,” Saul allowed. “But, how
do you get dirt bikes to the site?”

Bobby sat thinking. “I believe it could
work. The bikes will fit on the pontoon. We’ll take the boat down
the Inland Waterway while Saul and Roger come in from the ocean
side in the Bird of Prey. We barge in with a lot of hoopla, Vulture
and his thugs are distracted, then Saul and Roger take out the
missile. Meanwhile, we rescue Penny Sue and Rich. Yeah.” He glanced
at his two old friends, who nodded. Bobby rubbed his hands
together. “We have a lot to do. In order to be in place before the
launch, we have to shove off on the pontoon no later than midnight.
The earlier, the better. I don’t want to wait until the last
minute. Besides, every second we waste is a stroke against Penny
Sue.” Bobby turned to Carl. “How soon can you and your buddies get
the bikes and stuff together? By the way, if anyone has Kevlar,
this is the time to pull it out. Hopefully, we’ll surprise Vulture
and they won’t have time to get off a shot. Still, better safe than
sorry.”

“We have some Kevlar. We’ll wear what we
have.”

The Klingons left to get their dirt bikes
and battle paraphernalia.

Roger went downstairs to help Carl put the
Bird into the water, while Saul and Bobby lingered at the table.
Fran and Ruthie had finished loading the dishwater when the phone
started to ring. The first call was from Ted.

“Ted,” I said. Bobby shook his head
vigorously, a clear sign that I should not say anything about our
plans. I nodded agreement, though I didn’t like keeping secrets
from Ted. “The worst thing has happened—Vulture’s kidnapped Penny
Sue.”

“What?”

“We went to the cole slaw wrestling; she and
Red had words. The next thing we know, she was dragged off by
Vulture and his goons.” I choked up again, remembering the horrible
scene.

“My God. You’ve reported it, right?”

“We called everyone and Ruthie filed a
report with Volusia County.”

“I’m working a shift up here in Daytona. I
wish there was something I could do.”

I stared at my feet. “I know. I guess
there’s nothing any of us can do, but wait.” I hated to deceive
him. I also cringed at the fallout when Ted found out about
tonight’s escapade, which he surely would. If the Space Center
security nabbed us, Ted might be visiting me in a Federal
prison.

My phone clicked, indicating someone was
trying to get through. I checked the display, it was Zack. “I have
another call coming in—Zack. I asked him to personally tell Judge
Parker about Penny Sue.”

“Take the call, I understand. As soon as my
shift’s over, I’ll see what I can find out. Be careful. Don’t do
anything stupid.”

“Okay,” I said faintly. Under other
circumstances I’d be insulted by his last remark. Unfortunately, he
was right. We were about to do something very stupid.

I clicked off, but not in time to catch
Zack’s call. Fran’s phone rang a moment later. She handed it to me,
whispering, “Judge Warren Parker.” Bobby’s head shaking and hand
waving went into high gear. I nodded again.

“Judge, I’m so sorry to give you this
horrible news. We’ve contacted city and county authorities.”

“How did this happen?” he asked somberly.
“Zack said the kidnapper may be someone I’ve locked up. Is that
true? Who is this man?”

I took a deep breath. “A group of us went to
a Bike Week event this afternoon—cole slaw wrestling.”

“Did I hear you correctly? Cole slaw
wrestling?”

“Yes, sir. It’s very famous—like mud
wrestling, only women wrestle in a pit of cole slaw,” I babbled
nervously.

“You’re kidding.”

“No sir. It’s the highlight of Bike Week,
which is the reason we went.” No need to mention Penny Sue being
dumped by Rich. “Anyway, we ran into a rough character called
Vulture. Penny Sue’s name was mentioned, and he flew off the
handle, wanting to know if she was Penny Sue Parker from Roswell,
Georgia. Penny Sue’s always said she had to be careful, that she
was a target for criminals you’d convicted. Anyway, this guy and
his gang whisked her away.”

“You’re telling me Penny Sue was kidnapped
in broad daylight, and no one did a thing?”

I felt like a dirty dog. No, a dirty dog
gave me too much credit. I was low, lower than pond scum. I’d let
my friend be kidnapped and didn’t do anything but fumble with my
cell phone. Fran, who barely knew Penny Sue, showed more gumption
that I did. “Judge, I’m so sorry,” I started to sniffle.

“Becky Leigh, I don’t blame you. I know you
and Ruthie couldn’t take on a gang of bikers.”

Yeah, because we were shit. Chicken
shit.

“What can you tell me about this man called
Vulture? I’m going to make some phone calls.”

I swallowed a sob. “He’s well known in this
area, even by law enforcement. Rumored to be the head of an
anti-government cult. Some people say he’s crazy. Sir, that’s all I
know.”

“This man came up to my daughter out of the
clear blue?”

“Penny Sue had some words with his
girlfriend. But, it wasn’t Penny Sue’s fault. She was minding her
own business when Vulture’s girlfriend came up and accosted
her.”

“Becky Leigh, I’ve been a judge for a long
time and I know when someone isn’t telling the whole truth. I need
to know everything if we’re going to find Penny Sue.”

My chest started to heave. He was right, of
course. Bobby’s plan was half-baked. Maybe the judge could call out
the FBI, National Guard, or something. Anything.

I swear, Bobby must have read my thoughts,
because he flew into my face, shaking his head. I waved him off.
Okay, I wouldn’t tell the judge what we were going to do, but I’d
tell him the rest of the sordid tale, including the potshots at
Penny Sue’s car.

I told Judge Parker about Rich’s dumping
Penny Sue, the body found behind her car, the potshots at her
license plate, the run-in with Red at the Pub—all of it. He seemed
to take it well, though, he’d probably perfected a deadpan bearing
in his years of judging. Gawd, I hoped Zack was still there, in
case the judge’s calm demeanor was only a front.

“Is Zack with you by any chance? I missed a
call from him on my cell phone.”

“No, he went home.”

“Are you doing all right with this?”

“As well as any man can do when his only
daughter’s been kidnapped by thugs.”

A big tear streaked down my cheek. That shit
Zack went home and left you alone. Pond scum. He was pond scum,
just like me.

* * *

By eight-thirty
everyone had assembled
in Fran’s driveway and was ready to go. Todd, Saul, and Roger had
already left in the Bird of Prey. Although the Bird was faster than
the pontoon boat when using its gas power, it crept along on
battery power. It also needed to be in place ahead of us to
pinpoint the gang’s location.

We decided to take several cars to the
Marine Conservation Center to avoid suspicion. Bobby and the
Klingons with dirt bikes went ahead to load them onto the pontoon.
We were riding with Carl and Thomas, who’d loaded a computer, other
sundry electronic devices, along with paintball guns into the trunk
of the Jaguar. Fran, Ruthie, and I had settled in the back seat and
Carl was backing out of the garage when Ruthie remembered the
Taser. She flew from the car to fetch it at the very moment a gray
sedan pulled into the driveway.

“It’s Woody, the State Prosecutor, and his
detective friend,” I shrieked.

Fran pushed me out of the car door that
Ruthie had left open and dived after me. Before I knew what had
happened, she’d slammed the door and was waving to Carl and Thomas.
“Bye, boys. Have a good game.” She held her thumb up. “Victory,
this time, right?”

Carl got the hint. As the gray car stopped,
Carl inched by it and backed down the driveway.

Frannie struck her fist to her chest and
yelled, “Qaplá!” at the very moment Ruthie raced into the garage
with the Taser. Ruthie took one look at Woody, who was now getting
out of the car, and stashed the weapon in the dumbwaiter.