Finding Floyd

by Melinda Peters

  * * *

  By mid afternoon, the crowd had left and Diane and Chris were rocking gently on the cushioned glider. Ralph and Julia had finished cleaning the kitchen and started out the back door.

  "You two still out here?" Ralph rumbled.

  "Yeah," said Chris. "We're just going to hang out here. What about you?"

  "Julia is going to show me her place in town. Then maybe we'll take a drive. It's a beautiful day."

  "Sounds good." Chris nodded.

  "There's plenty of food in the refrigerator." Ralph ticked off a list of various leftovers neatly packed away, just in case they got hungry. "Now you make sure that girl eats something."

  "Yes, sir!" Chris saluted Ralph and Julia laughed.

  With a wave they were off across the lawn, and climbing into Julia's car. They disappeared around a bend in the road.

  A sharp chill breeze picked up and Diane shivered. She was alone with Chris and she wasn't sure she liked the idea.

  Searching for a topic of conversation she asked, "So...how did you find Floyd?"

  "What are you talking about?" He looked at her curiously.

  "Why here? Why did you come to this particular place?"

  "Oh, you mean building my house here. Dumb luck I suppose." He shrugged. "I was in the vicinity, working on a case about four years ago. It seemed like such a friendly place. Quiet, peaceful, and for the most part, everyone here gets along. When you talk to other people who've come here from somewhere else, they've always got a story about finding Floyd. They ended up here by some accidental quirk, like taking a wrong turn on the road, or the wrong turn in life. The next thing I knew, I was buying land and making plans to build the house."

  Chris grew quiet and she turned to see that he was studying the woods intently. Following his gaze, she saw a flicker of movement. Something was disturbing the bushes beneath the trees.

  "Be still," whispered Chris and he pointed toward a stand of trees, beyond the wood pile.

  "What is it?" she whispered. She didn't see anything at first, but then the bushes trembled and parted and she saw a flash of black. A little head appeared, looked at the house and vanished again.

  "Some kind of animal?" she asked.

  "Bear cub. Let's see if he comes out again."

  They crept to the porch railing, watching the woods. Sure enough, the fuzzy little creature emerged sniffing around the edge, where lawn met undergrowth. Apparently, it thought better of venturing into this unknown territory, turned and scuttled off into the shrubs.

  "How cute," she breathed.

  Chris put her hand in his and held it. "You see a cub and there's going to be a mama bear not too far off. Mama might not be so cute." As they watched the woods, she felt his grip tighten, squeezing her hand.

  "What? What is it?" she said.

  "Not sure, but there's something..."

  Then she heard a noise, but it didn't come from the woods. In the stillness, a pair of loud clicks sounded from behind them and a shiver rose along her spine.

  They turned slowly together to stare at the twin barrels of a shotgun leveled at them. Above the gun was the haggard face of Bruno Toricello and he wasn't smiling.

  Ralph's Breakfast Sausage

  2 lbs. ground pork shoulder

  1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt

  1/4 teaspoon ground pepper

  1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

  1/4 teaspoon grated nutmeg

  1 teaspoon thyme

  1 tablespoon rubbed sage

  2 tablespoons white wine, or Sherry

  Combine all ingredients in a bowl and mix thoroughly.

  Cover and refrigerate overnight, or up to twenty four hours.

  Form into patties and brown in a skillet.

  Cook thoroughly.

  Chapter 21

  "All right, you morons. Get back inside."

  The Blowtorch held them at gunpoint. Chris instinctively moved to disarm the fugitive, but realized Diane would be in the line of fire if he deflected the shotgun barrel, so he pulled back.

  Toricello grinned. "That's right. Don't try nothin'. She could get hurt bad."

  Assessing the situation, Chris was forced to agree. Diane's safety had to be his primary objective. She had visibly paled, but he was proud of the way she stood next to him facing their captor.

  Toricello probably hadn't slept much in days. Dark circles ringed his sunken, red eyes. His jaw sprouted several days of ugly steel grey stubble. He must have traveled at least five miles overland to get here.

  With the shotgun barrel trained on them, Chris put a protective arm around Diane as they made their way back into the kitchen.

  Toricello looked around and snorted. "Nice. Real nice. I been on the run sleepin' wherever, eatin' crap, and look at your nice arrangement you got here. I'm takin' advantage of this. I oughta shoot you right here, but I wouldn't want to make a mess in this fancy place."

  Diane whimpered softly and shrank into Chris's arms.

  "Shaddup already!" Toricello looked at her with disgust and yanked a chair away from the table. "You, FBI boy. Sit! Now you. Blondie. Find some duct tape, quick. You're gonna tie your boyfriends hands behind his back."

  Chris looked at Diane, nodding slightly.

  "Hands behind your back, asshole! Don't even look at her. We don't want any heroes here. You know what I'm saying? Understand?" Then, motioning to Diane with the shotgun he yelled, "Don't look at him either! Don't say nothin'. I'm watching you. You got that?"

  "Come on Bruno. Why not let her go?" Chris tried to reason with him. "She can't hurt you."

  "Yeah. You'd like that. She'd forget all about seeing me," he drawled sarcastically. "Hey, Blondie! Where's that tape?"

  "I'm looking, Mr. Toricello." Her voice quavered and her hands shook as she opened each of the drawers along the counter.

  "Hey, what'd you do with the hair? You changed your style. I think I liked it better long, but it don't matter now. Gonna blow a hole in the back of that pretty head, hair or no hair."

  Chris saw her hesitate when she opened the drawer where the carving knives were kept. She moved her eyes to his, as her hand reached in, but reluctantly slid it closed when he frowned.

  "I'm sorry. I can't find any tape in here. There might be some in the basement," she suggested.

  "Cute. Real cute." Toricello smirked at her, and then prodded her with the gun toward the dog leashes hanging handily on the wall. "Use one of them."

  Poor Bella was locked in the living room, where they could hear her low growls of frustration as she paced, her toenails clicking on the hardwood.

  Diane knelt behind Chris and struggled to tie one of Bella's leashes around his wrists. Toricello reached around and tugged on the knots, mumbling, "I don't get it! Everybody's got duct tape. What's with you people?"

  Great. Just great. Chris let out a long breath. Stealing a sideways glance at Diane, he saw the stoic expression on her face. She managed a slight shrug of her shoulders in acknowledgement as she worked at the knot.

  Shit. I should have seen this coming. How could I let that bastard just walk right up to us? Some Special Agent! Yeah. I really know how to take care of the woman I love. Well I got her into this, and I'm going to get her out of it.

  "Okay, now you're gonna pack me some lunch." He glanced around. "Get me one of those big bags and start filling it with food."

  With shaking hands, she opened one of Sandy's reusable grocery bags and began filling it with muffins.

  "Here!" he growled, elbowing her aside. "Give me that." Picking up the basket of muffins, he dumped the contents into the bag. Pointing the shotgun at the refrigerator, he said, "Now, make with the food."

  Diane did as she was told, adding Ralph's leftovers to the bag.

  Spotting Ralph's car keys on the table, he snatched them up and pocketed them. "Gonna leave here in style in that brand new Caddy and this time I'm leaving alone. You ain't gonna dick around with me this time. You two will be lying face down out there in the woods t
akin' a dirt bath. Piss me off once, that's the only chance you get." His level gaze was pure malevolence.

  Chris watched, seething with rage and frustration, as Toricello roughly turned Diane around, grabbed another leash and tied her hands.

  Balancing the gun under his arm, he grabbed the grocery bag. The gun was leveled at them as he reached into the bag and came up with one of Julia's cinnamon buns. Bruno bit into it savagely. He took another bite and grunted with satisfaction. Stuffing the last of the bun in his mouth, he chewed and mumbled, "Damn that's good. My mother used to make stuff like this. For an instant he seemed to soften and his red rimmed eyes misted. Blinking rapidly, he grabbed the bag of food and prodded them with the gun. "Fuhgeddaboudit. We got other business here. Get going."

  Chris's mind raced, weighing his options. Toricello looked positively homicidal, as if he'd explode in a blast of fury at any moment. The old model Remington double-barreled twelve gauge was cocked, both hammers back. It would have considerable stopping power. Once he's got us moving, there has to be a chance for me to deflect the gun. If I create a diversion, Diane can escape. Then I can deal with him.

  "Okay, you two. Now we're gonna move, but we're doing it real slow. Just like I tell ya. I'm right behind you with this double-barreled cannon. One false move and I'll splatter you all over the back yard." He took a step toward the door and opened it. Retreating to the middle of the room he gestured with the shotgun. "Stand up real slow. You, Blondie. You're out the door first. Mr. FBI, you follow her a couple steps behind."

  They did as he demanded. Chris followed Diane onto the porch and cautiously took the steps, his eyes glued to her back, but his mind on Toricello.

  "Real slow going down those steps," he said softly. "When you get to the bottom, stop. I'll tell you when to move."

  Chris resisted the temptation to look back, and waited beside Diane at the bottom of the steps. He heard her exhale a small whimpering sigh. He felt the gun barrel pressed between his shoulder blades and froze.

  "Now, walk real slow toward that garage."

  Relieved when the gun was removed, Chris glanced quickly over his shoulder and started forward.

  Toricello said, "That's right. Take it easy."

  Chris searched his mind for ideas. I don't have much time! What if I hurl myself backward and knock him down? Would either of us survive the shotgun blast?

  Then he saw the bear cub they'd seen earlier. The little guy had been brave enough to go exploring. He'd crossed the yard and was rooting around the dead bushes below the porch and rustling in the dry leaves there.

  "Keep moving," growled Toricello from behind.

  Chris took another step and cut his eyes toward the woods at the back of the yard. The mother bear had to be nearby. There. He saw something moving in the trees.

  "What the hell?" muttered Toricello.

  Chris glanced over his shoulder. Bruno was staring into the woods with the shotgun leveled in that direction.

  "Diane, stop," he hissed.

  She slowed and Chris came behind and whispered in her ear. "I'm going to try something. If I knock that gun aside, you run like hell. Don't look back."

  Her eyes widened and she shook her head.

  "I'll be a son of a bitch," said Toricello in consternation.

  Chris looked over and saw a large black bear at the edge of the trees, standing on her hind legs.

  "Oh my god!" gasped Diane.

  "What the hell! What is that thing?" said Toricello.

  As if in response a loud menacing growl came from the bear and Diane screamed.

  Chris was watching Toricello closely. The man's attention was fixed on the bear. If I can manage to disarm him with my hands tied behind my back, what happens then? The situation had suddenly become much more complicated, but the bear gave him an idea. If he could goad Bruno into actually shooting and killing the bear and if he fired both barrels, the man would be temporarily disarmed. But, if the angry bear was only wounded...

  "It's a black bear. This one's a very large female, I think," he said as calmly as he could. "Normally they're not particularly dangerous, unless you get between them and their cubs, which is where we are at the moment. If you look toward the house you'll see a little one by the porch."

  "Shut up asshole! I'm not falling for any tricks." I'm gonna shoot the bear, then I'm gonna shoot you. Got that?"

  He detected a brittle edge to the man's voice that hadn't been there before. Was the Blowtorch frightened by the bear? Why wouldn't he be? I don't much like it either.

  "Don't shoot the bear," said Chris softly, hoping Bruno would do precisely what he told him not to.

  "Huh, what the hell you talking about?" said Bruno glancing his way.

  "It's illegal. Bear season isn't until October and I'll bet you haven't got a hunting license." He felt ridiculous making this statement, but he was trying to buy time.

  "You trying to be funny? What the hell do I care about illegal?" Toricello stared at the mother bear as she took a few tentative steps in their direction, snuffling the air and making a chuff-chuffing sound.

  As long as she was on her hind legs looking around curiously, Chris knew they weren't in immediate danger, but once she dropped to all fours and was speeding toward them, it would be another matter altogether.

  Sooner or later, she'd notice her cub and feel threatened. She was probably not long out of hibernation and hungry. They couldn't be in a more precarious position and he was helpless with his hands tied.

  Toricello wavered and took a step backward, muttering to himself. Then he dropped the bag of food and raised the shotgun, aiming at the bear.

  The bag of sausage, muffins, and cinnamon buns must have smelled good to the little cub, because he wandered over and began to paw at the bag. When Toricello looked down and saw the cub investigating his food, he kicked him away. "Get outta there you little shit."

  The mother bear noticed her cub at the same time. Another deep growl came from her open mouth. She dropped onto her forelegs, her head snapping around and alert now.

  "Holy shit!" exclaimed Toricello as a large wet stain appeared on the front of his trousers.

  "Oh my god, said Diane in alarm.

  The bear was moving now, on all four legs, picking up speed.

  The terrified man stood fixed with his gun raised. Chris was certain the Blowtorch had never seen anything like this before. Suddenly the bear stopped in her tracks, listening.

  Chris heard an engine and turned to see a familiar dark blue Ford sedan race down the driveway. It turned onto the lawn, tires chewing up mud and grass as it skidded to a stop.

  The door was thrown open and Rodriguez spilled out onto the ground. With an amazing display of acrobatics she rolled twice, got her feet under her and came up running.

  Mama bear gave another roar and started running. Rodriguez was fast, but the bear was coming on faster. Toricello was shaking, the gun barrel wavering from side to side. He hadn't yet noticed Rodriguez.

  Chris backed away and silently urged Diane to do the same. They needed to put some distance between themselves and the Blowtorch. If Bruno was going to shoot the bear, he had to do it now. Time seemed to stand still as he watched the bear and Agent Rodriguez converging on Toricello from different angles.

  Rodriguez got there first. She wrenched the shotgun from his grasp, brought it to her shoulder and fired both barrels in quick succession. The blasts echoed off the hills and back again as the bear swayed and collapsed, mere feet from Toricello. The black furry head stared at him through sightless eyes, its teeth bared. One last breath hissed and gurgled from the animal's open maw. The big city thug was visibly shaking.

  "Oh my god," rasped Diane, letting out a long sigh.

  Rodriguez whipped off her blue FBI windbreaker and vigorously wiped down the shotgun. "Here, take this," she said, thrusting it toward Toricello. He took the gun, blinking and muttering in his confusion.

  "Shouldn't have shot the bear, Toricello. Now your prints are on the
gun and I bet you don't have a hunting license." There was a smug look on her face. "Hey, Bruno, did you pee your pants?"

  He looked down in consternation at the spreading wet spot, the smoking shotgun in his hands, and then at the bear sprawled at his feet. He shuddered.

  "Chris, Diane," said Rodriguez nodding at them. "Good afternoon. You want to read him his rights Owen, or you want me to do it." She gave him her particularly annoying little smirk.

  "Maybe, before we do anything else, you might untie us?" he asked.

  Toricello came to his senses, realizing what was happening, and before Rodriguez could react, he dropped the empty shotgun and reached for the handgun secreted in his waistband. His right leg shot out catching her behind her knee and she crumpled, landing on her back with a grunt of pain.

  Toricello stood over her and aimed the gun right between her eyes. His words came in ragged gasps and it sounded like he was near the breaking point. "I know you bitch! Saw you last night. Now I got three assholes to waste here and you're gonna be first."

  Chris spoke softly to Diane. "Get out of here now while he's distracted. I'll keep him busy."

  "Chris, he might kill you. I can't leave you."

  In a last desperate move, Chris positioned himself between Bruno and the terrified girl, attempting to shield her. It was a futile effort, but he didn't know what else to do. He braced himself and waited for the gunshots.

  "Freeze Toricello! Police! Drop the gun and don't move. Do it now."

  With tremendous relief, Chris whipped his head around to see Sheriff McAndrew and Sam Woodruff on the porch. Both had weapons drawn, in a two handed shooter's stance.

  "Drop it!" ordered Boone.

  The Blowtorch didn't turn his head, but kept his gun trained on Rodriguez.

  "Do as the sheriff says," Chris said soothingly. As annoyed as he'd been with her for the last several months, he didn't want to see Rodriguez killed. "Better do as he says. If you shoot her, they'll kill you. They're right behind you."

  "Drop the damn gun, or I swear I'll blow a hole in you, big enough to drive a truck through," yelled McAndrew.