Drag Strip (19 page)

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Authors: Nancy Bartholomew

BOOK: Drag Strip
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As if in answer to my question, an ear-splitting scream filled the air, a scream of terror that could not be mistaken for anything else. It was followed quickly by another unmistakable sound: gunfire.

I took off running as hard and fast as I could, and headed for the glaring yellow house, headed straight for the source of the sounds. I looked up as I hit the driveway just in time to see two soldiers and a naked man. An ugly, naked man.

I jumped behind Roy Dell's Vega and peered up over the hood. The naked man streaked by me and there was a horrible moment as I realized I knew him. Frank was running full out, heading past the front of the house and making for the back side of it. Following behind him were the soldiers, Ma and Raydean dressed in camouflage that had to date back to World War II, judging from their pine-covered helmets. Their faces were blackened with shoe polish, but their eyes glared out as they ran by, too intent on their quarry to notice me. Ma was carrying something black and square in her left hand. My ma and Raydean, chasing old caught-in-the-act-again Frank. I would've laughed had it not been for a sudden complication.

The front door slammed open, flying back against the wall, as Lulu burst out upon the scene, a shotgun in her hands and a murderous look in her eyes.

Ba-boom!
The gun discharged and half the flowers in one of the tires scattered to the four corners of the earth.
Boom! Ba-Boom!
She fired off two more times, and then, as she located Ma and Raydean, she laid her head alongside the barrel and took careful aim.

Lulu did not look like an amateur. She was gonna kill somebody.

At a moment like this, time slows to a crawl. I saw Lulu site Ma's backside, but I was already in motion. I had the advantage of Lulu's attention being focused on Ma and Raydean. She didn't see me coming, and she didn't hear me as I climbed on top of Roy Dell's Vega and launched myself into the air, flying toward the porch and the barrel of the shotgun. Too late, I connected.
Ba-boom!
The gun fired wild, deafening me with its roar. Lulu, now on the ground, was puzzled and incensed. She turned her attention to beating the living crap out of me, which wasn't going to be hard to do, given Lulu's size and strength.

I heard a dull roaring sound and I figured I was about to die from Lulu sitting on me. The sound got louder, though, and for a second, my attacker was distracted. I shoved her and she rolled sideways, moving just enough for me to reach my hand into my pocket and wrap my fingers around my knife.

“Baby!” a voice yelled. We both looked over. Frank had materialized in his black Firebird, which must've been parked out of sight behind the house.

“Baby! Throw me some pants! I gotta get outta here!”

Lulu looked up, torn between doing what Frank wanted and killing me. That's when she slugged me hard across the jaw and struggled to stand up.

“Don't you move none,” she said. “I'll be right back to kill your ass!”

Yeah, like I was really gonna stay lying there on my back, waiting to get my ass kicked.

“Sierra! Stop him! I can't get a good shot!” Ma's voice cut through the haze of red pain. Sweet Jesus, tell me Ma didn't have a gun!

I jumped up in time to see Ma with a black camcorder held up to her left eye, trying to get Frank on tape.

“Ma, what're you doin'? This ain't a wedding down to the Social Club.”

Raydean was right beside her, grinning. “Sierra,” she cried, “we caught him bringing the mother ship in for a landing!”

Frank, suddenly aware that the army was again after him, gunned his engine and popped the clutch, jumping the car forward across the front yard. Only one thing stood between him and freedom: An unmarked police sedan sat squarely in the middle of the driveway and Detective Wheeling stood behind the passenger door, his gun drawn and a seriously pissed-off look on his face.

Lulu picked that moment to come flying back out onto the porch, her shotgun aimed at the spot where I'd just been, and a pair of jeans slung over her beefy shoulders.

“All right, you!” she yelled, not waiting to see if I was still there.
Ba-boom!
The spot on the porch floor where I'd been lying burst into splinters. I vaulted over the back side of the porch just in time and hit the ground in a crouch. Raydean and Mama, being not quite the fools they appeared to be, ducked down behind Frank's car.

“Freeze!” Detective Wheeling screamed.

“Baby! Don't do it!” Frank cautioned. “He'll shoot you! Drop the gun!”

Lulu looked out into the driveway and saw the barrel of the Glock 9mm, appeared to think for a bare second, and then dropped the gun, a smile quickly replacing the homicidal look on her face.

“Hey, Officer, what's doin'?”

Wheeling wasn't having any of it. He remained hunkered down behind the roof of the car, a radio mike in his hand, barking into it. Then he put it down and started issuing orders. In the distance, sirens began to wail as Wewahitchka's only police car came to the rescue.

“Put your hands in the air! Now!” Lulu raised her hands like a placid schoolchild. “You!” Wheeling yelled to Frank. “Cut the engine and get out of the car!”

Frank shut down the car immediately, but didn't move to leave it.

“Get out of the car, now!” Wheeling yelled, the adrenaline rush evident in his red face.

“Aw, man,” Frank said, and sighed. “Do I have to?”

“Get out of that damned car right now!”

Slowly the door swung open, and as I saw it from my position lying on the ground alongside Lulu's porch, one bare foot hit the ground, then another. There was still-as-death silence for about thirty seconds, and then the sound of Detective Wheeling laughing.

“You think that's something,” Raydean called out, “you oughta see what we got on videotape!”

Wheeling shook his head slowly and raised up a little from behind his car.

“Where's Roy Dell?” he called out to Lulu.

“He ain't here,” she answered.

“No, duh!” said Raydean, cackling. “That boy don't know what he's missing!”

“But he will,” said Ma, patting the camcorder.

I crossed myself as an extra precaution. I knew Ma was thinking back to the Sons of Italy–Mostavindaduchi fiasco. Poor Pa, I bet he never speaks to another woman again in his life, let alone smiles at one.

Wewa's finest arrived at that moment, and a young deputy sprang from the car, his gun drawn and a wild-eyed look of pure terror in his eyes. Here he was, at his first gunfight. He looked at Wheeling, then saw naked Frank.

“Damn!” he swore. “What you got here?”

Wheeling looked over at him. “What, boy, you never seen a naked man? Go up on that porch and retrieve that shotgun, would you?”

The young man cut past Wheeling and cautiously approached Lulu, slipping up onto the porch and grabbing the shotgun tenderly.

“Now,” said Wheeling, stepping out from behind the car and walking a few feet up the drive. “Would somebody care to explain what's going on here?”

Raydean took a step forward and looked like she was about to tell all, but then she stopped suddenly. “Hey,” she said, “ain't you that boy from over to the drugstore?”

“The very same one,” I answered, stepping out from the side of the house.

“Uh-huh!” Raydean snapped. “I thought as much. Alien!”

I smiled at Wheeling. “There's really not much to this at all,” I said smoothly.

“Now, there's a damn lie!” Lulu spit, but just as quickly remembered that she'd been caught in flagrante delicto, and shut her mouth.

“Does anybody here want to press charges against anybody else here?” Wheeling asked, slowly running his eyes over all of us one at a time.

No one spoke. I hesitated, then decided to tell him the details about Lulu and Frank later, when Ma wasn't around to get any more involved than she already was.

“Well, fine then,” he said. “I'm just interested in catching up with Roy Dell, Ms. Parks. Where might I find him?”

“Why do you want him?”

Wheeling stared at her hard for a moment. “I have a warrant for his arrest,” he said finally.

Lulu stepped to the edge of the porch. “On what charge?”

“The murder of Ruby Diamond,” he answered, his eyes never wavering from hers.

Lulu seemed to teeter for a moment, then grabbed on to the porch rail for support and leaned forward. “That's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard in my life! Roy Dell never laid a hand on that slut!”

“I got evidence to the contrary, ma'am. I'd appreciate you letting us know if you hear from him, on account of I'm sure you wouldn't want to be an accessory after the fact.”

Lulu opened her mouth to say something, then just as quickly closed it.

“Now,” said Wheeling, turning to face the rest of us, “I'm thinking y'all ought to disperse.”

Raydean and Ma started to walk off toward Raydean's cop-mobile, obviously anxious to put as much space between themselves and Frank as possible.

“Hey!” Frank said. “They got something of mine! I want that film!”

Lulu tossed Frank his pants and he started struggling to pull them on while Raydean and Ma quickened their pace to a dead run.

“You'll have to take care of that later,” Wheeling said to him. “I need to talk to you.”

“Can't it wait?” Frank was looking over Wheeling's shoulder and seeing his recent past getting away from him, forever preserved in Ma's camcorder.

“'Fraid it can't,” Wheeling answered calmly. “I need you to sign that statement you gave us yesterday.” I was starting to walk away after Raydean and Ma, but I was also trying to overhear. “And I need to talk to you, too, Ms. Lavotini.”

I spun around and looked back at Wheeling, who hadn't even turned away from Frank as he spoke.

“I figure you got your hands full, right now, Detective. Catch up with me later.” After all, he couldn't actually detain me, not unless he was going to arrest me.

“Don't leave your trailer,” he said, his command voice returning.

“How about this, Detective. I won't leave the country.”

I could tell he was mad. The dull red flush was moving across the back of his neck. There'd be hell to pay later, but for now, I had a videotape to watch.

Twenty-one

Raydean must've flown back to Panama City. Her car was securely parked on her parking pad, the canvas cover concealing it from alien invaders, when I pulled onto my own parking pad across the one-lane street. No sign of life came from either trailer, but I knew Al had just come back because Ma's car was still making ticking noises like it does when you shut it off.

Fluffy was all too glad to be home. She bailed out of the car, flew up the steps, and was through the doggie door before I could cut the engine. So much for companionship. I guessed she'd had enough for one day. But somehow I knew my day was only beginning. It might've had something to do with the look on Al's face when I walked into the kitchen. He was sitting at the table, scowling, a laptop computer open in front of him.

“Hey,” I said cautiously.

“Did you see Ma?” he barked. “Did you see her just now? Cause I'm thinkin', you know, somehow Sierra's behind this. Ma is looking like a freaking escapee from World War II!”

“Yeah?” I leaned against the counter and tried to look calm, like it was no big deal at all for our saintly mother to turn to blackface and camouflage.

“She was running, Sierra. Running like someone was after her. And she stonewalled me. Wouldn't tell me bupkiss. Just said she had to take a shower. She's been in there ever since.” Al was plainly exasperated.

“Well, what's it been, Al? Five minutes? It takes time to get that shit off your face, and she's all sweaty—”

“Sierra, can it. What happened?”

I figured there was no easy way around it, so I told him. Of course, certain, shall we say, nonessential details were left by the wayside. I didn't think Al would approve of Lulu shooting at Ma, or Ma videotaping Frank at the golden moment with Lulu. I merely intimated that Ma and Raydean had encountered Frank and his honey in a compromising position.

“I don't believe you, Sierra.”

“Be that as it may, Al, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.” I laughed, like there wasn't a care in my world, but I stepped over to the window and peered out through the gauze curtains. It wouldn't take Frank any time at all to find out where I lived and come barreling down the road. Raydean was Roy Dell's aunt, after all. Frank would at least come looking for her.

“What you looking at?” Al barked.

“Nothin'! Jeeze, will you take a pill!” I looked over at my brother and realized he'd hooked his laptop to my phone jack. “Hey, is that long distance?”

“No!” he grumped.

“Al,” I said, sliding into the seat next to him, “what's really bothering you?”

He looked up for a brief second, then away. “You know that the guy you sent me to find out about, Albert a.k.a. Meatloaf, has a record?”

“No, how could I know that?”

“I just thought maybe with your connection at the police department, you might know.”

“How'd you find out?”

Al spun the computer around so I could see the screen. E-mail from a buddy in the department back in Philly.

“So what's he done?” I asked, because Al quickly spun the computer back to face him and started tapping.

“Assault and battery, on a female,” he answered.

“How much time did he do?”

Al looked up at me. “None. For some reason, the charges got dropped just before it went to trial. Technically, it's not supposed to still be in the system, but my buddy's got a connection with NCIC.” Al was looking puffed up, like he knew things none of us regular citizens would ever know.

Ma picked that moment to reappear, traces of shoe polish stuck in her ears.

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