Bike Week Blues (24 page)

“Hello,” Fran said, still waving as the
Jaguar reached the street and sped off. “That’s my son. He’s a
Klingon. They’re fighting the Battle of Khitomer tonight, and this
time they’re going to win.”

Detective Jones eyed the Beach Bike and
Scooter truck parked beside Carl’s workshop. “Saul Hirsch plays
these games?”

“Oh, yes, he’s a Romulan.” She extended her
hand. “I’m Frances Annina, what can I do for you?”

Caught off guard by the unusual exchange,
Woody stuttered, “R-robert Woodhead. Detective Jones and I are here
about Penny Sue Parker. We understand she’s missing.”

Fran hugged him fiercely. “We’re so happy
you’ve come. We’re sick to death about Penny Sue. Have you found
her?” Woody tried to disengage himself from Fran’s grip, but she
held tight. “She was snatched away by a horrid gang right before
our eyes. It was terrible, just terrible.”

Woody finally managed to push her away. “I’m
sure it was. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Fran winked at me. “Yes, there’s not a
minute to lose. Penny Sue’s probably being tortured or ...” she
buried her face in her hands, “worse.”

“That’s why we’re here, Mrs. Annina. We’ve
talked with Judge Parker and need to ask you a few questions.”

“Come in,” she waved them up the front steps
and, as their backs were turned, gave Ruthie a hand sign to put the
garage doors down. She led them into the kitchen. “Can I get you
something?” Fran snapped Rich’s laptop shut and casually handed it
to me. I stuffed it in a cabinet in the great room.

“That son of mine,” Fran ran on without
missing a beat. “Thirty years old and still leaves his stuff laying
all over the house. Now, what can I get you? Coffee? A soft
drink?”

“Water would be fine, ma’am. We only need to
ask you a few questions.”

I must say that this meeting with Woody and
Detective Jones was far more civil than the last. Of course, much
of the former hostility was because Penny Sue had kept them waiting
for over an hour, declaring it was socially unacceptable for
civilized people to call so early in the morning. The fact that
Woody had obviously talked with Judge Parker didn’t hurt
either.

The two men asked the standard questions, we
told them the truth, though we were careful to skirt the issue of
Bobby and the Atlas V. I wondered about keeping the secret, but
quickly decided we should. With the chaos of Bike Week, I put more
faith in Carl and Bobby at that moment. I, also, suspected Woody’s
visit was basically a courtesy call to assuage the judge and
Woody’s superiors.

Woody and Detective Jones thanked us and
left with promises to keep us informed of any development.

Fran closed the door behind them and her
polite smile dissolved. “Of all the luck, now we’re left on the
sidelines.” She patted her bike belt. “I was ready, too.”

“Maybe we can still help. Let’s look through
the emails on Rich’s laptop—perhaps there are more clues.” I
fetched the computer. Ruthie, our computer expert, fired it up and
started scrolling through the files. She hadn’t gone far when the
phone rang. It was Judge Parker again.

“Judge, the state prosecutor and detective
left minutes ago. They’re on the case and taking this very
seriously,” I told him.

“I’m sure they are.” The unspoken fact was
that the Florida Attorney General was probably in the loop, now.
“Leigh, I need to know what Vulture said to Penny Sue. His real
name is Curtis Hall. I’ve had my clerks check. I’ve never been
involved in any case with a Curtis Hall. It doesn’t seem like the
kidnapping was a vendetta against me.”

If that wasn’t it, what was? “Excuse me a
moment, sir. Frances Annina and Ruthie are here with me.” I put my
hand over the mouthpiece on the phone. “Vulture’s name is Curtis
Hall and has no connection to the judge! What, exactly, did he say
to Penny Sue?”

“He called her a meddlesome bitch,” Frannie
said. “I remember thinking how coarse he was.”

Ruthie piped in, “Before that he asked if
she was Penny Sue Parker, the busybody from Roswell, Georgia.”

“That’s the way I remember it.” I relayed
the information to the judge.

“Hmph, busybody, meddlesome bitch,” Judge
Parker repeated. “This is personal to Penny Sue. Can you think of
any enemies she’s made in New Smyrna Beach?”

Aside from Shrewella, the backdoor neighbor,
I couldn’t think of anyone who had it in for her that wasn’t
already in jail. Surely, prim and proper Sarah/Shrewella was not
connected to Vulture. “I can’t think of a soul. Penny Sue is a kind
person. She loses her temper on occasion,”—and her hormones are
completely out of kilter—”but, she’s not one to make enemies.”

“Think about it, Becky Leigh. The link to
Vulture may be the key to finding her.” He hung up.

I frowned and tapped my fingers on the
table. “How could Penny Sue possibly be connected to Vulture? He
called her a busybody, implying she’d stuck her nose into something
that was none of her business. What could that be?”

“He knew she was from Roswell. Rich has to
be the connection. Maybe their love affair was interfering with a
deal between Vulture and Rich.”

I chewed by bottom lip, thinking. “That
doesn’t seem like enough justification to kidnap someone. Vulture
was angry, as if she’d taken something away from him. Something
important.”

“If the guy is psychotic like Carl suspects,
it may all be imagined,” Ruthie said. “Like John Nash in the movie,
A Beautiful Mind
. He imagined all that stuff about working
for the government.” Ruthie went back to searching Rich’s emails
for key words and phrases like stinger, missile, atlas, shoot, and
came up empty handed. Fran and I hovered over her shoulder. “No
luck,” Ruthie said dejectedly.

“I think you need to be more obscure. Rich
wouldn’t come right out and say what Vulture was planning to do,
even if it was encrypted. How might he refer to a Stinger
missile?”

“A bee, wasp, scorpion,” Frannie
offered.

“Good.” Ruthie typed the words into the
search engine. “What about Atlas? He was a Greek god, a Titan that
held up the world.”

“I think of Charles Atlas. He was Italian,
you know,” Frannie said. “His real name was Angelo Siciliano. He
was the ninety-seven pound weakling who became a bodybuilder after
a bully kicked sand in his face.”

“That’s good. Ruthie, put in bodybuilder,
strong man, muscle man.”

She typed the words in and one by one began
searching the documents. She’d gone through about a dozen when a
faint chirp sounded. We all went for the cell phones stowed in our
bike belts. It was Fran’s phone that was ringing.

“Hello?” Her eyes narrowed with intense
concentration. “Hello?” She held it out for me to listen. I heard a
gurgling sound like someone clearing her throat. I could almost see
the light bulb go off in Frannie’s head. She snatched it from me
and checked the tiny phone’s display. Tilting her head back, she
finally found the mute button. “This is Carl’s new phone number,
the one he gave to Penny Sue!” She handed me the cell. “Keep it on
mute. We don’t want to tip her hand. I’ll call Carl.”

Fran rushed to the telephone on the kitchen
counter and dialed. “Carl, Penny Sue has called on your cell phone.
She must be gagged and can’t talk, but we can hear shuffling
noises.”

“Is she still on the line?” he asked
excitedly.

“Yes. We’ve got it on mute.”

“Keep the line open. There’s GPS on that
phone. I’ll call you right back.”

Fran put the handset in its cradle and
clapped her hands. “We’ve found her and she’s alive! Carl will
locate her with GPS and the boys can probably rescue her right
away.”

My throat seized, and I started to cry, only
this time tears of joy. Keeping one ear on the cell, I glanced at
Ruthie who was hunched over the computer, oblivious to the news.
“Ruthie, didn’t you hear? We’ve found Penny Sue.”

Her face ashen, she glanced sidelong. “I’ve
found it, too.” She pointed to the screen. “This email was in the
draft folder and probably never sent. ‘The big guy should expect
the delivery of honeybees on Thursday morning.’ Vulture really is
planning to shoot down the Atlas rocket!”

My hand flew to my throat. “Omagod, if
they’re successful, it will pollute the East Coast with
radioactivity.”

The phone rang, we all jumped. It was Carl.
“Mom, we’ve located Penny Sue, but she’s not where we thought. It
looks like she’s close to the entrance of the tunnel on Klondike
Beach, not far from where Saul found the smashed transponder. They
must have circled back. I’ll contact Todd and have them alter their
course.”

“No, son, you can’t.” Fran heaved a big
sigh. “Ruthie found a draft email on Rich’s computer. Vulture truly
wants to shoot down the Atlas. The email was probably never sent,
so it’s up to you. You’ve got stop them. Penny Sue will have to
wait.”

“Mom?”

“It has to be this way.” Fran motioned to my
cell phone. “Take down Leigh’s cellular number. Mine is tied up
with Penny Sue.”

As she gave him the number, I had an idea. I
waved and whispered, “Put him on mute.”

“Hold on a minute, I think Leigh has more
information.” She punched the button to block our conversation.

“Get Todd’s cell number.”

Fran’s brow furrowed with confusion.
“Why?”

“Saul’s truck. Maybe there’s something in
there that will help us rescue Penny Sue and Rich.”

“Us?” Ruthie asked nervously.

“Right,” Fran said, her eyes flashing. She
hit the mute key. “Carl, I need Todd’s cell number.”

“Todd’s number. Why do you want that?”

“In case we need to call him—what do you
think?”

“Mom, what are you going to do?”

“Nothing, son,” she said sweetly. “I’d like
to have Todd’s number in case I can’t reach you. Besides, what if
we find important information on the computer that he needs to
know?” She took down the number. “Be careful, baby.” She hit the
off button on the receiver and immediately began to dial. “Todd,
this is Fran. I need to move Saul’s truck. Ask him if he left the
keys here.” She tapped her pen on the notepad as she listened.
“Under the mat?” She dipped her chin with a big grin. “Thanks. Carl
told you the news, right? Good, be careful, now.” She clicked off,
eyes narrowed in thought. “Hear anything?” she asked me.

“Scraping and crunching noises, like someone
moving through brush.” I held up my hand for silence as I strained
to hear a new sound. “I think I hear snoring.”

“The guard must have fallen asleep. That’s
probably how Penny Que got to her telephone.”

“It’s amazing they didn’t find it,” I
said.

Ruthie smirked. “She put the phone in the
inside pouch with her credit cards.”

“Come on, we don’t have time to waste. Let’s
see what’s in Saul’s truck.”

We found the key ring under the mat and
sorted through it until we found the one that unlocked the truck’s
backdoor. Wielding flashlights, we did a quick scan of the
contents. Four mopeds were strapped down next to the door.

“Have you ever ridden one of those things?”
Frannie asked.

“No.”

“Me either. And, I don’t think this is the
time to learn.”

“Wait, what’s that at the very back?” I
handed the cell phone to Ruthie and hopped up on the step at the
back of the truck. “My flashlight’s too dim.” Frannie handed me her
halogen spotlight. I panned the bright light on the back of the
truck. “Praise the lord,” I muttered.

“What?”

“Saul has two dune buggies!”

Fran nudged me aside and stepped up to see
for herself. She hopped down with a big grin. “Who needs men? We’ll
save Penny Sue ourselves.”

I climbed back into the truck. “We need to
get all of these scooters out of the way. Help me, Ruthie, there’s
a ramp against the wall.” While Fran monitored the telephone,
Ruthie and I wrestled the ramp into place and rolled the motorbikes
out of the truck. Then, we examined our find.

Fran crossed herself and said a silent
prayer before turning the halogen on the buggies. She trained her
eyes heavenward. “Thank you, we have the keys.”

The buggies were four wheelers with
headlights and big, bulbous tires. Open except for a roll bar, they
were about the size of golf carts, which in fact they may have been
in a previous life. There were two seats and enough room behind
them for a person to crouch, if necessary.

“I wonder if they’re electric?” Ruthie
said.

“Only one way to tell.” I swung into the
cart, turned the key and tapped the accelerator. It lurched
forward. “Yep, electric.” I checked out the instrumentation. “This
is a piece of cake, I used to play golf.”

“What’s our plan?” Fran asked.

“We take Saul’s truck to the Canaveral Park
and drive it to the end. Then, we unload the carts, and head down
the beach to rescue Penny Sue.”

“Wait,” Ruthie said. “Can you drive a
truck?”

“No, but—”

“Don’t worry, I can,” Fran said confidently.
“I haven’t always been wealthy, you know. I grew up on a farm.”

I should have known. Frannie May had more
tricks up her sleeve than David Copperfield.

“The palmetto scrub is so thick, how can we
get the buggies to the beach?” Ruthie asked, still not
convinced.

“There are little trails through the scrub
blocked off by chains,” I said. “That’s how the rangers get to the
beach.”

Ruthie shook her head. “If the paths are
blocked …”

“The whole place is blocked off. But, Enrico
has bolt cutters,” Fran said with a smirk.

Uncle Enrico, I’d forgotten all about him
and his bolt cutters. No telling what he was up to, but his stuff
had sure come in handy.

“I’ve been down to the end of the road at
Canaveral and the beach isn’t very wide. If it’s high tide, we’re
sunk—literally,” Ruthie said.

“Good point. We’d better check the
tides.”