Barbara Silkstone - Wendy Darlin 01 - Wendy and the Lost Boys (15 page)

I heard a sound like the ripping of fabric or the pulling asunder of tape. The sound seemed to be coming from Hook’s lap.

The church organ hit a deep note. Hook’s penis broke free and stood at attention. He caught my eye and gave me a look that dared me to laugh. I swallowed a giggle and it caught in my throat. I coughed.

No one else seemed to notice as Hook worked his hand into his pants, pulling out a strip of duct tape. He rolled it into a ball and dropped it to the floor. I shot him a frown. Littering in church. The man had no class.

Joseph leaned toward me oblivious to his brother’s struggles and more concerned with the religious striptease. “Annie was married to a drunk. He used to pistol-whip her. One day he was found dead in their bed. She said it was the rapture what took him. We all said, ‘Praise be.’ Now every once in a while when somethin’ important is about to happen, Annie gets the rapture. She’s clairvoyant.”

Two hours later, the service was finally finished. I was exhausted from watching Hook wrestle with his problem, which should have made UpUGo history. This was definitely not an Episcopalian service. There had been a few more mini-raptures, but nothing to compare with Annie. She’d collected her clothes and gone back to her pew. I was in shock and more than a little rattled.

As we walked down the aisle, Mary rushed passed us handing her pocketbook to Hook. “Here, use this to cover yourself, Brother. I’m going on ahead. It’s faster if I run than wait on you all to load up the truck. See you at the house.”

Joseph called after her. “The cartridges are in the cabinet!”

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Was that a gun shot?” I asked as we pulled onto the gravel road to the house.

“Yeah. Be careful when you get out of the truck. Mary’s in that there tree.” He pointed to a huge oak on the far right of the house. “She’s poppin’ squirrels. She makes squirrel most every Sunday.”

“I am so out of here,” I whispered to Roger.

“Squirrel’s not that bad,” he said.

“I’m sure it tastes like chicken. There are only so many of these hillbilly stunts I can tolerate. Eating squirrel is not one of them.”

In my normal voice I said, “Hook, aren’t we heading back to the ship? Shouldn’t we get your van and hit the road?”

“We need some help unloading the van,” Hook said. “Joseph’s bringing some friends along. We have to wait on them. Lunch is a good idea. That way we won’t need to stop till we get to the boat.”

“We have to wait on Curly anyway,” Joseph said. “He’s coming to take care of the goats while Mary and me help you all.”

Mary walked past, smiling and humming a hymn. She had a small 22-gauge rifle in her one hand, and in the other two very dead squirrels held by their tails. Not a hair on her head was out of place. She looked at peace with the world.

I felt a gag fit coming on. “Sister Mary, are those squirrels for our lunch?”

“Don’t look so upset, girl. A squirrel ain’t nothing but a bushy tailed rat. But no, these here squirrels are not for your lunch.”

“Still craving a Bloody Mary?” Roger snickered. “It’s sort of ironic.”

Charlie and Joseph went to check out the van. We were ordered into the house.

Two minutes later Roger and I were crouched behind the barn listening to the Hook brothers’ plans. I noticed Jax had disappeared again.

“I want Jaxbee to drive the van so I can keep an eye on her. You take Wendy with you in the pickup truck. I don’t trust her at all. Keep an eye out for her ex-husband. Name’s Crocowski. Crazy as a hornet on hooch. I’ll take the doctor with me as I might need him.”

“Somethin’ peculiar about that doctor fella. He don’t say much. And did you look at his shoes? Are those doctoring shoes?”

“Don’t worry about his shoes. You just keep control of that Wendy woman. She’s liable to be a problem.”

A dinner bell rang. It sounded like something from
Little House on the Prairie.
Mary was clanging away. Lunch was ready.

As we walked to the house, Jaxbee showed up out of thin air. What was that woman up to? Was she messing with the treasure? How many more secrets did she have?

The smells coming from the kitchen were a mixture of onions and garlic and unknown spices. Once again, Mary had laid out a family-style spread. There were two baskets of biscuits and a mound of butter on a plate. A huge bowl of stew sat in the center of the table. The vivid colors of the vegetables made it very appealing.

Joseph said grace, finishing up with thanking the Lord for his brother’s return.

“Help yourselves,” Mary said handing me the ladle for the stew.

I took some stew and vegetables then I loaded up on the biscuits and butter. We passed the pitcher of goat milk. It wasn’t half-bad. There was a plate of goat cheese. I took a few chunks and enjoyed the tangy taste.

“Mary, as usual you created a delicious Sunday lunch,” Joseph said.

Hook mumbled in agreement as he bolted down his food.

Tasting the stew, I decided it was safe. I ate most of the vegetables and fiddled with the remaining pieces of meat. I like dark meat, but grilled and in big pieces so I know it came from something large that moved slowly on four legs.

“What is this meat?” I asked.

“Squirrel.”

I felt my throat lock up and my stomach head north. “Mary… I thought you said those squirrels weren’t for our lunch.”

“They’re not. They’re for next Sunday. I like to pop squirrels a week ahead. Gives them time to ripen in the meat locker.”

I was out the door and into the bushes in less than thirty seconds. After I’d puked my guts out, I sat on a log. The air was heavy with the sour smell of squirrel stew… revisited. I was at the end of my humor.

Roger came out to check on me. “There are some plastic chairs on the front porch. Let’s go sit over there until they’re ready to leave. I’m exhausted.” I followed him.

Chapter Thirty-Four

While we sat out front, my tired mind drifted and I fell into a pseudo-sleep. I thought back to the Hook mansion in the Hamptons and Marni telling me she was in good hands.

“Good hands,” I mumbled with one foot still in my daydream.

“Thanks,” Roger said as he nudged me. “Curly is here to care for the goats. The rest of the crew should be arriving in less than an hour. Hook wants me to travel with him.”

I stared at his Johnny Depp face searching for motives. Why was Roger still hanging around? If he was such a hotshot agent, why not hike up the road and find a pay phone and call his office? Or why didn’t he have a phone in the heel of those goofy brown shoes? It was like he was a magnet stuck to Hook and the van.

 “You’re going to end up with Joseph on this part of our adventure,” Roger said. “If you need me or you have a feeling something is really wrong just hit the horn in the pickup. I checked it out and it works. And remember the James Bond of bonds is looking out for you.”

A silent prayer for Kit’s safety was on my lips as I gathered myself from the plastic seat and prepared for the next leg of our adventure.

Guys named Curly are almost always bald. This Curly had a long, dark hair and it was actually curly. Go figure. He stuck out his arm pushing his bicep into my face. “Feel my muscle. Go ahead. Feel it.”

“No, thank you.”

Curly accosted Roger with his muscle. “Feel it! Go ahead. Feel my muscle.”

“Pass.”

Muscle man made the rounds and was rejected by all but polite Joseph. “You should have felt his muscle. It don’t cost nothin’ and makes him feel good. He was the runt of his litter and he’s a bit insecure. That’s all. Harmless fella.”

I followed Joseph to his pickup truck parked behind the van. A convoy of crap.

“Where’s the rest of the crew?” Hook shouted at Joseph. “Let’s get going!”

“Here they come.”

A dark blue Jeep came to a skidding halt – nose to nose with the van. Chick hopped out, pushing up non-existent sleeves on his tattooed arms. Another beat and both backdoors opened. Granddaddy Earl came from the passenger side and Annie of the rapture leaped from the driver’s side. Granddaddy Earl lost his footing and slipped, but he held onto his toupee.

Hook turned the color of tomato juice. “This is the crew? No!”

Joseph pulled his brother aside. “You said you wanted strong backs and closed mouths. They got ‘em. Even if either one of ‘em talked about this here trip, no one would ever believe ‘em. And they’re both strong as ants. They can lift ten times their weight. They just don’t look it.”

Hook sputtered with fury. “I want men. Young, strong men!”

“If I get you young, strong men from the village, they’re just liable to become curious about what we’re carrying in the van. You need what these two don’t have. They got no plotting skills and no greed and avarice. They’re just good church people. Besides Annie’s a clairvoyant.”

Hook flapped his arms up in the air and brought them down to his sides with a wham. “A clairvoyant? What the hell do we need with a… Never mind! Let’s go.”

Chick’s Jeep refused to start, and it was flat-out blocking the caravan. Its motor sounded like one of the goats. Whaa… grrr… silence.

“Dead. Anybody got cables?”

“Augh!” Hook let out a bellow of outrage. “I used to think there was nothing worse than death,” he said as he tugged on his hair. “Back up the pickup and then the van,” he said. “Go around the Jeep…” He bit off the rest of his words. His face was the color of a ripe plum.

Jaxbee sat behind the wheel in the van with Hook at her side. Roger jumped in the backseat and gave me a thumbs-up. He mouthed the word “custom-made,” and grinned. At least he’d be comfortable.

The rest of our crack team piled into the pickup as Curly offered his muscle to us one more time. It was too sweaty to touch, no matter how needy Curly was.

Joseph was driving with Mary sitting shotgun. I was in the backseat with Chick. He smelled like tobacco and French fries. Granddaddy Earl and Annie were in back in the bed.

The caravan was off.

Chapter Thirty-Five

“Milton! Milton!” Joseph called. The hound dog came running and leaped into the back of the pickup, happily licking Annie’s face. Granddaddy Earl held onto his hair and we were off.

“Joseph, stop!” Mary yelled.

The pickup skidded to a stop.

“It’s Stillpork. She’s following Milton. We can’t leave her behind.”

Joseph shrugged. “Granddaddy Earl, can you give that pig a hand?”

I watched out the rear window as Annie held Granddaddy Earl’s ankles with her skinny arms while he yanked and groaned. If Stillpork was the pig I had seen in the goat pen, it was beyond lifting – at least by an old man dangling from the bed of a pickup truck. Milton jumped up and down barking and howling encouragement as Granddaddy Earl’s biceps twisted into two balls the size of grapefruits. The old guy gave out a colossal
uumph
, and with one loud thud, the porker was in the truck.

The dog was all over the pig, being familiar in a biblical sense. The couple was reunited and we were off.

Jaxbee drove at the speed limit. We took back roads and uncharted alleys to get to the coast. We tailed the van at a respectable distance. “If we was to try I-75, it would take us about five or six hours. But we can’t be going through Atlanta and Macon without attracting attention, so we’re taking some short cuts. Still it’s gonna be a good seven hours.” Joseph said. He pointed his chin toward the back of the truck. “How they doing back there?”

Chick and I turned at the same time and almost clunked heads. I noticed his eyes were drooping. “Tired?”

“Working at the diner, I’m used to drinking coffee all day. Caffeine’s the only thing that holds me together.” He did a double take out the back. “Annie and your granddad are getting it on,” he yelled.

“Lord love a duck,” Joseph said. He honked the horn and waved out the window.

Jaxbee slowed the van while we pulled the pickup onto the shoulder of the road. Joseph hopped out and yanked Annie out of the flatbed and into the backseat, smushing her into Chick. “Behave yourself, woman. The Lord’s watching you.” She huddled down, sitting silent, smelling like a pig and a dog in heat.

Three hours into the trip and Chick was snoozing. Annie was praying. Mary hadn’t moved her rifle the entire time. If we hit a bump hard enough she’d blow a hole in the roof.

I thought about Roger. He seemed to take his work seriously. The SEC must be a tenacious group of loner operators. It was peculiar he hadn’t called for backup since he’d located the treasure and had Hook in his sights. Why not grab the Ponzi king now? Something didn’t add up with Special Investigator Jolley.

The van and truck remained within three car lengths of each other, staying in the slow lane, doing nothing to attract attention. Surely that average sized van couldn’t be carrying billions of dollars of antiquities? There must be something I was missing.

The monotony of the drive was getting to me. Mile after mile of kudzu marched alongside the road, blending into a solid green wall. I was in a daydream again. It was Croc walking toward me out of the kudzu. “Why did you marry me?” he asked.