‘‘Sort of. She called me a country bumpkin and then said—well, she screamed it actually—that if I wanted you, I could have you.’’
Mike gazed down at Hildy. He couldn’t think straight again, but now he knew why with utter certainty. He loved this woman—it wasn’t enchantment or magic. It was true love plain and simple. He didn’t care about counts or Mafia bosses or anything. ‘‘Do you want me, Hildy?’’
‘‘Yes, yes, Mike, I do.’’ She stood on tiptoe and kissed him quickly. ‘‘But I have to get some things off my chest. And I’ve been thinking. It should be done in front of your partner. Can we go to your office instead of into the dragon lady’s lair?’’
‘‘If that’s what you want,’’ Mike answered.
Hildy saw the surprise on his face. ‘‘Look, Mike, your partner doesn’t trust me. At some point, you’d have to choose between him and me. I don’t want that. So let’s go clear the air.’’
Jake Truesdale downed some more Tylenol. He looked at the clock. Mike had phoned to say he’d be there in ten minutes to clear things up. He sounded jumpy and a little strange. Maybe this partnership wasn’t such a great idea. He liked Mike, but the guy was young and paid more attention to his little head than the one on his shoulders. Jake understood that, but Mike’s choice of women could be an ongoing problem.
All right, he’d give him ten minutes. He’d listen to what Mike had to say, then make a decision on whether to stick with his partner or go it alone.
Ten minutes later, on the dot, the door to the office opened. Mike and Hildy stood there.
‘‘You didn’t say you were bringing company.’’ Jake wasn’t putting out the welcome mat.
‘‘I asked to come here with Mike.’’ Hildy strode into the room. ‘‘I think it’s time to lay all the cards on the table. That’s how you detectives talk, right?’’
‘‘Not really, but why don’t you say what you came to say.’’ Jake’s expression was sour.
Mike clenched his fists. He thought Jake should have more respect. Jake noticed. He was in no condition to get in a fight and maybe he was out of line. He decided to give it another try. ‘‘Why don’t you have a seat and tell me your story,’’ he said to Hildy and nodded at a nearby chair. His voice was less hostile, but wary.
Hildy felt no intimidation. Compared to standing in front of a class of hormone-crazed fifteen-year-olds, facing Jake Truesdale didn’t even faze her. She tipped up her chin; her voice was crisp. ‘‘I’ll stand and show you, rather than tell you. But to give you some background for what you are about to witness, let me say that I found this bottle in Caesar’s, next to a slot machine.’’ She held it up as any teacher did in show-and-tell.
‘‘However,’’ she continued, ‘‘as I tried to explain to you at the motor lodge, I soon found out it had previously been in the possession of the Mafia boss, James Torelli, known as Jimmy the Bug. To be succinct: He wanted it back. He attempted to steal it from me. He attempted to extort it from me. He attempted to abduct me. I’m happy to say that he did not succeed.’’
‘‘Why didn’t you just give him the bottle? You said it was his.’’ Jake wasn’t impressed. He wondered where this cock-and-bull story was going.
‘‘I said it had been in his possession. But I assure you, he must never regain ownership. And it’s time to show you why.’’
Hildy pulled the cork out of the bottle with a dramatic flair. ‘‘Antonius Eugenius, come out here.’’ She appeared to be speaking to the bottle. Jake, thinking that this was one crazy lady, looked at Mike. Mike shrugged.
A wisp of smoke slithered out of the neck of the bottle. It trailed upward toward the ceiling where it quickly became a bright white shining cloud, edged in gold and shot through with silver. Suddenly the cloud sank to the floor and shimmered. A second later a Roman soldier stood where the cloud had been. Mike was a big guy. Jake was a little taller. This guy dwarfed them both.
He also looked very familiar to Mike. ‘‘Count Arigento?’’ Mike asked.
Hildy blushed. ‘‘I’m sorry, Mike, but there is no such person. I’m embarrassed to say that we dreamed up a phony Italian count to make you jealous. I apologize. Let me introduce Antonius Eugenius, also known as Tony G., a centurion in the army of Caesar Augustus—or he was in 6 BC when he was bewitched and made into what he is today. A genie in a bottle.’’
‘‘What is this, a parlor trick? Didn’t that magician David Copperfield do something like this?’’ Jake scoffed at what he witnessed, a skeptic to the core, or perhaps a doubting Thomas.
‘‘I realize it strains credulity,’’ Hildy said in her best schoolteacher voice. ‘‘Therefore Tony G. has consented to give a demonstration. I yield the floor.’’ Hildy sat down.
Tony G. nodded. ‘‘I understand, Mr. Truesdale, you have suffered some recent injuries. Let me help them heal.’’ Tony G. opened his hand to show it was empty, then made a tossing motion and a spray of sparkling glitter floated through the air. The first line of ‘‘I Heard It Through the Grapevine’’ played. Jake looked surprised, then stunned.
‘‘Huh? What just happened?’’ He rubbed his dislocated shoulder. It didn’t hurt.
‘‘You can stand up if you’d like, but I guarantee your ankle is quite healed.’’
‘‘What the hell are you?’’ Jake bellowed, being the type of man who became belligerent when worried or scared.
‘‘As Ms. Caldwell mentioned, I am a genie who has been riding around in that amber glass bottle for two thousand years.’’
‘‘Oh, bullshit,’’ Jake said.
‘‘Wait,’’ Mike interjected. ‘‘Don’t be so fast to dismiss this. Hildy, is this really true?’’
‘‘Yes, Mike, it is. I know it sounds impossible, but, if I may quote Shakespeare, ‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’ Perhaps another demonstration would help. Tony?’’
Tony G. grinned. He reached inside his tunic and pulled out a piece of papyrus, with angular writing on it. He moved as if he owned the room. He stopped, he bowed, he put the papyrus on Jake’s desk.
‘‘What’s this?’’ Jake said, picking it up and trying to read it. All the Us looked like Vs.
‘‘A list of Jimmy the Bug’s customers,’’ Tony G. answered. ‘‘Those are the guys who bought stolen equipment from him. I understand you’re trying to recover it.’’
‘‘How did you get this?’’
In truth, Tony G. just sat down and wrote the list out from memory, having overheard plenty when he belonged to Jimmy the Bug. What he said was, ‘‘Magic. I’m a genie. It’s what I do.’’
Mike cut in. ‘‘Jake, if that’s for real, it’s worth a million dollars to us.’’
‘‘Let’s see if it checks out before we start counting our chickens.’’ Jake scowled, although he was beginning to have an uneasy feeling. Maybe the guy who looked like he worked for Caesar’s was a real genie, or not a real person, depending on how you looked at the situation.
‘‘So you see,’’ Hildy said, ‘‘it’s been a big misunderstanding, Mr. Truesdale. I was telling you the truth when I told you I had gone to the Sleep-E-Z Motor Lodge the other night because my sister said you and Mike were headed there. Tony G., here, knew it was booby-trapped. I was just trying to save your life. So I wished that the bombs and bullets couldn’t hurt anybody.’’
Jake looked at the short blonde with the earnest face. He looked at the guy who called himself a genie. He felt a little light-headed all of a sudden. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fainted dead away.
While Mike pulled Jake out from under the desk and sat him up until he started to come to, the momentous meeting was further interrupted by a call on Hildy’s cell phone. She looked at it and saw Corrine’s number on the screen. She answered and heard her brother-in-law Jack’s voice. ‘‘Hildy, we have a problem.’’
‘‘What’s wrong?’’ Hildy was immediately worried.
‘‘Corrine—’’ He stopped for a minute, unable to speak. ‘‘Corrine has been kidnapped. Someone broke into the house and took her. I’ve had instructions from her abductor.’’
‘‘Oh no!’’ she cried out.
‘‘Listen to me, Hildy. This is what I’ve been told to tell you. This guy wants you to meet him on the street near Caesar’s, on the corner of Pacific Avenue and South Arkansas Avenue in one hour. He’ll be driving a late-model white Cadillac. He says to bring the bottle. He says to forget about wishing for Corrine’s release. He also has your cats, and he said that you don’t have enough wishes to save them all. If you want to see them alive again, you need to go there and give back the bottle. Hildy, do you understand?’’ Jack’s voice shook while he talked.
‘‘Yes, Jack, I’ll go right away.’’ Hildy clutched the cell phone so hard that her knuckles turned white.
‘‘Wait! One more thing—the caller was insistent. You have to go alone. Just you and the bottle.’’
‘‘Okay, Jack. Don’t worry, I’ll get Corrine back. I’ll contact you as soon as it’s done.’’ She ended the call.
‘‘What’s wrong?’’ Mike said, seeing Hildy’s face.
‘‘Jimmy the Bug has my sister and my cats.’’ Then she told him the rest.
‘‘Hildy, it’s okay. Jake and I will be there. We’ll grab Jimmy the Bug when you go to hand him the bottle.’’
At that point the deep, authoritative voice of a two-thousand-year-old genie interrupted.
‘‘No!’’
They all turned their heads to look at Tony G. He put his hand on his sword and spoke as a centurion who had once issued orders to a hundred and sixty men. ‘‘Jimmy the Bug had one of his henchmen grab Hildy’s sister. If he doesn’t call in, chances are—’’ He hesitated, reluctant to speak the obvious.
‘‘Oh,’’ Hildy said. ‘‘You’re right. What am I going to do?’’
‘‘Ms. Caldwell. You know exactly what you must do. Wish for your sister’s release; then Jake and Mike can try to snatch the cats from Jimmy the Bug on the street.’’
Hildy gave Tony G. a steely-eyed look. ‘‘But you’ll be gone. Forever. No. I won’t do it.’’
Tony G.’s face looked immensely sad. ‘‘You must. I know you gave your word, but your sister’s life is at stake.’’
Hildy shook her head. ‘‘I’ve done a lot of thinking about what my sister said, about the kind of wish that would solve everything. I’m pretty sure I know what she meant. I believe it will work.’’
‘‘But you’ll still be making your third wish, Ms. Caldwell, if I might be so bold as to point that out,’’ Tony G. said. ‘‘I will vanish in any event.’’
‘‘No, that will not happen. There is a small risk involved, but I’m willing to take the risk if you’re willing to give me a little help . . . without my wishing for your help, that is.’’
‘‘Your wish is my command,’’ he said, completely sincere for the first time.
First she made a call to Caesar’s and requested a page of the casino floor. She got the person she needed to speak with. She talked for quite a while. Then she told Tony G., Mike, and Jake her plan.
Chapter 31
Hildy stood on the corner of Pacific Avenue and South Arkansas Avenue, making sure to stand back from the curb, the genie’s bottle in her hand. Butterflies chased around inside her stomach. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. The timing had to be exact on this, and it was the one thing that worried her.
A moment later, a late-model white Cadillac CTS approached, coming from the south on Pacific Avenue. Hildy looked nervously around. Jake and Mike sat inside the Chevy Suburban on Arkansas Avenue, there for backup mainly, in case things went wrong. They weren’t what she was looking for.
The Cadillac stopped at the light. Hildy glanced behind her again, trying not to be too obvious about it.
The Cadillac began to move, crossing the intersection and pulling up where Hildy stood. The passenger-side window went down. A man’s voice yelled out, ‘‘Bring the bottle over here.’’
Hildy shook her head. She held up the bottle. ‘‘You bring my cats over here! Then I’ll give you the bottle.’’
Hildy heard some cursing. She also saw out of her peripheral vision a Martz Trailways tour bus approaching the corner on South Arkansas after exiting the bus stalls at Caesar’s.
Jimmy the Bug popped the trunk release and got out of the Cadillac. He walked to the back of his car and lifted the carrier out of the trunk.
The tour bus stopped at the corner even with Hildy at about the same time.
‘‘I need to make sure they’re safe,’’ Hildy yelled. ‘‘Put the carrier on the curb and push it toward me so I can see them.’’
Jimmy the Bug kept his eye on the bottle. It was only about ten feet away. He’d have it in his hands in seconds. His blood raced. He didn’t care about these damned cats. Let her have them. She’d have plenty to grieve. So he did what that crazy dame asked him and shoved the carrier toward her. Shelley and Keats began to howl.
Then Hildy made her move. The doorway of the bus opened. She threw the bottle. Spinning end over end, catching the light and shining brilliantly, it sailed into the bus, where Father John caught it with perfect ease.
Jimmy the Bug shouted, ‘‘Hey!’’ At the same time Hildy grabbed the carrier and ran to the tour bus, taking the steps in one jump and landing in Father John’s arms.
The driver slammed the door shut just as Jimmy the Bug reached it. The enraged man grabbed the door handles and started to tug.
‘‘Move move move!’’
everybody on the bus yelled out. The bus driver floored the accelerator, and the bus rumbled into the intersection, dragging Jimmy the Bug with it.
Jimmy the Bug finally let go. He ran back to his Cadillac. He threw himself inside and stomped on the gas, doing an illegal U-turn through the intersection to follow the bus, which was clearly headed for the Atlantic City Expressway.
Hildy’s cat carrier got passed from hand to hand until it rested on an empty seat next to Annie. She held it tightly. Hildy stood in the front of the bus, next to Father John. They both clung to the front seats as the driver drove as fast as he could to try to elude the Cadillac chasing them.
Then there was a hard bump in the back of the bus.
‘‘He’s ramming us!’’ Hildy’s former rescuer, Roger Samuels, called out.
‘‘Floor it!’’