Hide and Snake Murder (7 page)

Baz took a deep breath. “Fine. Agnes, did you do something with that stuffed toy green snake I brought home the other day?”

“Oh,” Agnes said. “Of course I did. I gave it to Rocky when he and Eddy came over to pick me up for the airport. He's been wearing it around his neck since we got here. Thinks it's quite something else. Why?”

“I need it back.”

“For what? You grew out of stuffed animals in your twenties.”

Stuffed animals in his twenties? What a great razzing point. I looked at Baz, waiting for him to answer, wondering how much he'd admit to his aunt.

“I, uh, borrowed it from a friend and they want it back.”

“Basil, you know better than to lie to me.” Agnes sighed sadly, and then asked in a resigned voice, “Who'd you steal it from?”

Before he could answer, my cell rang, jangling my already frayed nerves.

Expectant faces looked at me I pulled it off my hip and answered, “Hello?”

“Shay?” April McNichi's voice boomed through the speaker.

“Yeah, it's me. What's up?”

“Houdini found Rocky.”

“Where?”

“Remember Houdini mentioning a girl who made balloon animals?”

“Yep.”

“She goes by Tulip, and I think it's a match made in heaven. They are so similar it's freakish. Tulip's incorporated your boy in her act, and he's wowing tourists by reciting random facts and doing instantaneous mathematical calculations.”

“Well, that sounds like our Rocky.” My heart unclenched a little. Thank goodness he wasn't dead or hurt.

“Houdini is on the way to your hotel with him now. He should be there any time.”

“I don't know how to thank you guys.”

“Come see our act and give us a big tip.”

“You can count on it.” I disconnected.

I related the turn of events, and we all trooped down to the lobby to await Rocky's arrival. We settled into two Victorian sofas that faced each other and talked about New Orleans poker. In less than ten minutes, looking like a dark devil-angel, Houdini strode through the hotel entryway. Rocky followed him, the neon-green snake hanging around his shoulders. He was wearing his Twins jacket and blue aviator hat.

His face lit up like a kid at Christmas when he caught sight of us. “Nick Coop! Shay O'Hanlon!”

I heard Baz say, “He's got it!”

Rocky lurched toward Coop and nearly bowled him over. Then he launched himself at me. After I'd squeezed Rocky, I pushed him away and shook him gently. “Rocky, don't you ever leave without telling us where you're going. You really scared Eddy and Agnes.”

Rocky looked over at Eddy with big eyes. His bottom lip started to quiver.

“Oh, young man, you come here.” Eddy opened her arms and Rocky dove into them.

“I'm very sorry, Miss Eddy. I did not mean to scare you.” His voice was tight and low.

Houdini said, “I'll leave you all to your reunion.”

“Thanks, Houdini,” I said.

He tipped an imaginary hat at me. “Anytime.
Adieu
,” he rumbled, and then swooped out the door without another word.

I turned my attention back to the unfolding drama. “Shhh,” Eddy was saying. “It's okay. Just let us know where you're going next time. Okay?”

Rocky nodded vigorously. Then he stood straight and the expression on his face melted into one of barely restrained glee. “I found a girlfriend!”

Eddy was the first one to recover from Rocky's announcement. “You did? What's her name?”

Rocky beamed. “Tulip. She makes twenty-six different balloon animals. She is very pretty and is four-feet-nine inches tall!”

Oh boy. I wondered if anyone had ever explained the birds and the bees to him. If not, I was going to volunteer Coop for that job.

Agnes rocked her way to her feet. “Let's go back up to the room so we can hear this story properly.”

Upstairs, I took a minute to use the bathroom. It didn't appear the Baz's new pals had anything to do with Rocky, Eddy, or Agnes, after all. It was simply a coincidence that the women had been unavailable to return our calls. That was a huge load off my shoulders.

As I wiped my hands, I heard Baz shouting. I opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the middle of a tug of war between Baz and Rocky. Rocky's face was set in determination. “Agnes gave it to me.” His hands were wrapped around the head of the snake, while Baz had a grip on the toy's tail.

“No!” Baz shouted. “I'll buy you another one. Just give me this one.”

“No. You are a mean man. I don't like you!” Rocky yanked on the snake. Baz stumbled forward a half step and then set his feet again.

“Give me the goddamn thing.”

Baz pulled hard, and Rocky pulled harder.

With an unmistakable rip, the snake split in half. Baz slammed into the door. Rocky sprawled backward across one of the beds. As amusing as the crashing humans were, they weren't the most riveting sight before me.

What rooted everyone to the floor in amazement were the crumpled bills and rolls of cash that spewed out of the snake.

For a frozen moment, no one said a word.

Baz picked himself off the floor and scooped up a bill. He sniffed it and looked at it from different angles. Then he proclaimed in an awed voice, “I'm rich.”

Rocky, his eyes wide, whispered, “Doodlebug broke.”

“Don't you worry, Rocky.” Eddy patted him on the shoulder as she looked at the money scattered around the room with a scowl. “We'll find you another Doodlebug. Won't we, Basil?”

Baz scooted around on his knees, furiously grabbing the crumpled and rolled bills and stuffing them in his pocket. He paused, both hands full of greenbacks. “Oh sure. Not a problem. Not a problem at all.”

“Basil,” Agnes said sternly. “That is not your money. And why is it inside that ugly animal?”

“Don't know,” Baz said, his pockets beginning to bulge.

A knock sounded on the door. I looked at Eddy. “Are you expecting anyone?”

She shook her head and stepped around Baz. Her hand was outstretched to open the door when a very bad feeling slammed me in the gut. I reached for her and yelled, “Wait!” just as she twisted the knob.

The door slammed inward with violent force, toppling Eddy backward into me. We went down in a tangle of limbs as three men with wicked-looking guns strode into the room.

Five

Frozen on the floor,
Eddy and I stared at a hulk-like man who loomed over us, pistol pointed directly at my belly button.

“Everyone on the bed,” barked one of the other two men. This guy had been with the frighteningly large man when they chased us at Jackson Square. Up close, the second man's hair was beyond pale, and his skin was so white it practically glowed. The guy's eyebrows blended right into his sharp features. I expected vampire fangs to pop out of his gums when he opened his mouth.

Heart in my throat, I peeled myself off Eddy and gave her a hand up. She squeezed my fingers once in reassurance, and we joined the rest of the cadre already huddled on the bed.

The third man, who I'd never seen before, was of Latin origin. He stood maybe five-eleven, with slicked back black hair and dark eyes. He was obviously in charge. He surveyed the room and said in a clear but heavily accented voice, “Hunk, pick up the money off the floor.”

Hunk
? Really? The large man kneeled stiffly to gather scattered
bills.

“Donny,” the Latino jerked his head toward the pseudo-
vampire, “I think
el hombre gordo
has some
dólares
in his pockets. Can you help him give them back?” He picked up the two pieces of the snake.

Donny advanced on Baz, who shrieked, “I do not!” He was still on his knees, money in one hand and bills falling out of his pockets.

The man thrust the muzzle of his gleaming blue-black handgun right in Baz's face. With his other hand, he reached down and grabbed the edge of a hundred dollar bill peeping out of Baz's pants pockets.

“You don't, huh?” Donny's voice was higher than Minnie Mouse's. He poked Baz's cheek with the gun. “I think you better check those pockets again. You don't want Tomás here to get angry. They don't call him Tommy Tormenta for nothing.”

Hands trembling, Baz started handing over his ill-gotten booty.

Holy crap.
Hunk
,
Donny
, and now
Tommy Tormenta
? Seriously? We were trapped in a B-rated comedy.

Rocky stared at the gun in Baz's face. “That is a very nice FN Five-seven semi-automatic pistol.”

How on god's no-longer-green earth did Rocky do that?

Tomás's right eyebrow spiked and one corner of his mouth curled up. He said in a deadly tone of voice, “
Sí
, it is, and it would be a very good idea not to piss any of us off.”

As Baz handed over the last bill, I looked at Agnes. She was almost as white as Donny, and sat primly on the edge of the bed, her hands folded in her lap. Coop's jaw muscle bulged every few seconds, but he wasn't chewing any gum. I tried to think of a way out of this, but with three armed men against two ladies-of-a-certain-age, one working-on-reforming pacifist, a certified idiot, a challenged man, and me … we were a little overwhelmed.

Tomás said, “Give me your cell phones. Then we go.” He motioned toward the door with his gun, then leveled it at Baz's chest. “
Señor,
it would do you much good to hand it over now.” He held out his other hand expectantly.

Baz, his eyes all squinty and mouth bunched up as if he were about to throw a tantrum, removed a phone from his pocket and slapped it in the palm of Tomás's hand. I half-wished Baz would go into a full-on meltdown. Maybe the distraction would give us a chance to do something.

Instead, Tomás turned his dark eyes on me. “Your turn,
señorita.”

Hope fading fast, I narrowed my eyes and handed over my iPhone. Coop followed suit.

“And you two,” Tomás addressed Eddy and Agnes. “If you have a phone, I suggest you give it to me right now.”

“I hate those things,” Eddy said, “and so does Agnes. Doncha, Aggie?” Eddy elbowed her, eliciting a grunt.

Agnes rubbed her side and nodded. “Wouldn't catch me dead with one.” She looked Tomás in the eye. “And Rocky doesn't have one either.”

Tomás nodded. He picked up the empty ice bin sitting on the top of the dresser and then walked into the bathroom. Water ran for a minute, then Tomás reappeared holding the dripping bucket.

“Say
adios.
”

I nearly cried as my spendy gadget went for a swim along with the others. He set the bucket back on the dresser. That was one sure way of taking care of our communication issues.

Tomás dusted his hand and said, “Let's go, then. Nice and slow. Donny, you stay with me. Hunk, you lead. And,” he stared us down through hard, cold eyes, “I would not try to escape. Situations like this often turn deadly. Let's go.”

“Wait,” Agnes said. “I need my purse.”

Donny laughed. “Where you're going, old lady, you don't need a purse.”

Luckily, neither Agnes nor Eddy decided to comment on that. I tried to quell the fear and impotent rage battling for emotional supremacy inside me. All I could do was concentrate on breathing.

The armed trio guided us down the emergency stairs that let out to the alley where Gabby had dropped us off. Darkness had descended, and the air was now chilly. A black panel extended-van was parked next to the still-aromatic dumpster.

“Tie them up,” Tomás said.

Paleface Donny rolled the side door open. Unlike a regular van with bench seats facing forward, one bench extended back from behind the driver's seat to the rear. A shorter bench faced it on the other side next to a sliding door. The interior looked like something a SWAT team might use. A long coil of clothesline lay on the floor of the van.

I scanned the alley for a means of escape but could come up with nothing that wouldn't endanger everyone else. Thank goodness Eddy was keeping her lip zipped at least. She had a propensity for belligerence. Just like someone else I knew. I was riding the razor edge of desperate, insane action or rational inaction, but somehow I was managing to hold it all together.

Hunk and Tomás kept their guns trained on us as Donny cut the cord into pieces with a pocketknife. Then he proceeded to tie our arms behind our backs and deposited us in a row on the bench facing the door.

As Donny slammed me onto the seat, Coop met my eyes. They were broadcasting a mix of panic and determination, searching for a way out as diligently as I was. If someone—anyone—should happen down the alley, I was more than ready to kick up a ruckus.

Once we were lined up like slaughterhouse rats, Hunk and Donny settled on the bench facing us. They both kept the business ends of their weapons pointed our way.

Tomás rolled the door shut, climbed into the driver's seat, and fired up the engine. He slowly drove down the alley and made a turn. The only windows in the van were in the front, making it next to impossible to see where we were going.

We made a couple lefts, and then a right. I tried to memorize the turns, but lost track after the fifth one. I'd make a sucky Girl Scout.

For a long while, no one said anything. The sound of the tires humming on the asphalt road echoed through the interior. I periodically attempted to wriggle out of the rope to no avail. Donny knew his knots.

Baz said, “I think I'm getting carsick.”

Oh my god, please don't let Baz barf.

Hunk said, “I'll shoot you if you throw up. So don't throw up.”

That shut Baz up.

After what felt like an hour but was probably closer to less than half that time, Tomás slowed the van, made a couple more sharp turns, and rolled to a stop. By leaning slightly forward and concentrating on my peripheral vision, I could see through the front windshield without catching the attention of our captors, who seemed to have relaxed a bit. The headlights lit up a big garage door attached to a brick building. He reached up to the visor above his head and pressed a remote. A moment later, the door rolled slowly up. As it shuddered and creaked its way to the top, the interior was lit up by the van's headlights. Directly in front of us was row upon row of stacked, rectangular boxes.

Once the door opened enough for the van to squeeze through, Tomás pulled in and pushed the remote again. The door slowly descended behind us.

Donny pulled up the lock on the door, slid it open, and he and Hunk scrambled out.

“Your turn,” he ordered, waving the way with his gun.

One by one, we emerged from the van and huddled together in the dim light cast by two fluorescent light units suspended high in the air.

Rocky said, “I do not like it in here. I want to go home now. Thank you.”

I suspected we all agreed with that sentiment.

Eddy said calmly, “Rocky, we'll get home soon, and when we do, we're going to go to Hands On Toys and get you a new snake.”

The expression on Rocky's face turned instantly from fear of the unknown into unrestrained joy. “Oh, I do love to go to the Hands On Toy Company and Game Room. Thank you, Miss Eddy! Thank you!”

Hunk poked Rocky in the back with his gun. “Shut up, you retard. Get moving.”

Rocky's face dropped and the look of fear was back loud and clear. I opened my mouth to let Hunk have it, but Eddy beat me to it.

“Don't you call him a retard, you big oaf,” she growled.

Her comment was ignored as Hunk and Donny, on Tomás's order, herded us into a small office lit with a single flickering florescent light. The eight-by-ten room held only two chairs, one desk, and a well-used green filing cabinet.

Hunk said, “In,” and waved at us with his gun.

“What do you mean, ‘in,' like we're just a bunch of cattle?” Eddy's composure wasn't holding up as well as I thought. “Hunk, where are your manners, young man? You can't treat women of substance such as myself and my dear friend Agnes like this. Or the kids, either, for that matter. You're scaring us all, you big bully!”

She wound up and kicked the astonished giant square in the shin with the one of the pointy-toed cowboy boots she was wearing.

A terrifying howl of pain echoed through the building. Hunk hopped around on one foot, his injured shin cupped in one hand, the gun waving dangerously in the other. Donny watched this turn of events in amazement, rooted to the floor outside the door.

The sound of running feet approached the doorway, and Tomás stuck his head inside. “
¡Mierda!
What is going on in here?”

Hunk leaned against a wall, a hand on his leg, and the gun in his other hand trained on Eddy. His eyes narrowed in a mix of anger and pain. “Please,” he begged, “let me shoot her. One bullet. That's all I need. One little bullet.”

Tomás said, “No, that's not part of our orders. If you cannot follow orders, Hunk, you will be needing one of those caskets out there—which won't be long enough, so I will have to break your legs to make you fit.”

Tommy Tormenta indeed.

“Caskets?” Baz said. “We're in a casket factory?”

“You're gonna each get your own real soon,” Donny said in his amazingly falsetto voice. So that's what the stacked rectangular boxes were. Excellent. Just where I'd always wanted to bite the figurative, and very possibly literal, bullet.

“Donny,” Tomás said. “Cut the ropes off them. Roy will be here soon, and he doesn't want them marked up.”

Hunk limped out, glaring at Eddy, who glared right back.

Donny quickly sliced the clothesline off our wrists, then exited and shut the door with a solid thunk.

“Why'd they cut us loose?” Coop asked as he massaged his wrists.

I shrugged. “Tomás said he didn't want us ‘marked up.' Maybe they don't want to hurt us after all.”

Yeah, right.

There was some bumping and banging outside, and then someone snapped what sounded like a padlock shut.

Eddy shook out her hands. “Once I thought I was going to expire in the ladies room. Now we're in a building plumb full of dead people's beds and we're still alive. Let's not be giving up any hope, you hear? When something like this happens on
Law and Order
, the cops find the good people, save them, and kick bad-guy behind.” She was silent a moment. “Well, most of the time.”

“Yeah,” I said, “But that's when the cops know they're supposed to be finding the poor, imprisoned victims. The police don't know to look for us.” I glanced at Rocky. “I guess they could be looking for you.”

Rocky said, “There were 174 murders in New Orleans in the last calendar year. I am hungry, and I want to go home now.”