Greatest Hits Mysteries Boxed Set (Books 1-4)

by Langtry, Leslie

  “Jesus, Missi!” I shouted, “That would revolutionize our industry!”

  Paris, more cautious than I was – as usual – agreed, “Yes it would. But how does it work?”

  “It works like a dream.” Missi grinned. “Speaking of which, I had the weirdest dream last night. In it, I invented a see-through yarn and knitted a sweater out of it, then I flew to California and ate at the Brown Derby. Everyone thought I was half-naked, which of course, I wasn’t . . .”

  “Um, Missi? The ammo?” I interrupted.

  “Oh yeah.” She giggled as if she remembered some joke. “It operates on a similar principle as the icicle maker I did a few years back. Now, you can’t really shoot bullets made of ice, because when the gunpowder ignites the gun gets hot and you’d just have a really expensive water gun.” She took a deep breath. “And I didn’t want to use real Jell-o and have it melt before it entered the body. So I came up with my own mixture that will initially tear into human flesh. Once inside, when it heats up to 98.6 degrees, the bullet dissolves – like jello.”

  “And the casing?” Paris asked as he inspected it.

  Missi took the shell from him and popped it into her mouth and chewed. Before I had a moment to react, she stuck out her tongue, showing what appeared to be shards of broken glass.

  “Rock candy. Like they make fake glass out of for the movies.” Missi grinned and swallowed.

  I picked up the pistol. “And this doesn’t produce a temperature as high as 98 degrees?”

  “Oh, I forgot that part.” Missi laughed. “The gelatin takes a couple of minutes to dissolve. It’s not in the gun long enough. And I tricked out the silencer with a little cooling system. Kind of like an air conditioner.”

  I looked at Paris, then turned back to her, “We’ll take two and as much ammo as you have.”

  Missi laughed again and stuffed our basket full. It only took her a few moments to bag everything and send us on our way. As we headed for the airstrip that night to return home, I couldn’t help wondering about my cousin. She was brilliant, but her work would only ever get noticed by the Bombay family. As the plane lifted off the tarmac, I watched the island shrink below me. Now there was one woman I really respected.

  But maybe Paris was right. I had to think about this Leonie thing. Was I infatuated with her because she was different from the other women I’d been with? Or was it just because she was the only one who could get a rise out of my dick? That was one problem I had to solve.

  Mom and Louis enthusiastically regaled us with the story of how Louis met Grandma. My kid went on and on about her collection of souvenirs from all over the world. But I was only half-listening. I had a lot to deal with when we got back. But first and foremost on my mind was a smart-assed mortician named Leonie Doubtfire.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “I am the wild blue yonder. The front line in a never ending battle between good and not so good. Together with my stalwart sidekick, Arthur, and the magnanimous help of some other folks I know, we form the yin to villainy’s malevolent yang. Destiny has chosen us. Wicked men, you face The Tick.”

  - The Tick

  I called Leonie the next day after dropping Louis off at school (where, I might add, he was delirious with delight about the homework he’d have to make up). She sounded happy to hear from me, and we made plans for dinner in two days.

  That night, Louis and I snuggled up together on the couch with a pizza and watched Survivor: Gobi Desert. I love this show. Louis seemed to like it too, as he filled me in on all the geographic information about the area. I just thought it was funny how the producers had run out of tropical locales and were now using a barren wasteland. At least they were back to being scantily clad – unlike the previous season at the Arctic Circle. Bikinis trumped snow suits any day in my book.

  “Did you know that the word “Gobi means desert?” Louis asked me through a mouthful of pizza. He went on to regale me with other odd facts about Mongolia.

  “No, I didn’t know that.” I gave him a squeeze. We were two men (okay, one midget genius and one guy with great hair), bonding over the great American pastime of good pizza and bad television.

  Louis and I laughed as the contestants tried to start a fire with no kindling, wood, or matches. Although it did get interesting when some of the women volunteered their T-shirts for the task. That would come back to bite them in the ass when it got really cold that night. Oh well. It’s just good fun.

  “Dad?” Louis asked me once I tucked him into bed. “I just wanted to say that this has been really overwhelming lately.”

  Didn’t I know it. I grinned. “I know, Sport. You’ve been great about everything.”

  He looked around the room slowly, before turning back to me. My heart sank and I had the feeling I was about to be chastised.

  “It’s just,” Louis twisted his hands nervously on his lap and I realized this was the first time I’d ever seen him like that. “It’s just that I don’t want to be the grown-up in this relationship . . . like I was with Mom.”

  My heart skipped the stomach and went straight for my shoes.

  “Given the circumstances of my conception,” he said.

  “Given the circumstances of my conception?” I repeated in shock. “Are you six or forty?”

  Louis rolled his eyes, ignoring my comment. “I’ve been reading your Maxim magazines. Anyway, with Mom, she had this scattered life. I had to remind her to pay the bills, take me for check-ups, all that stuff. And I’d kind of like to be the kid now.”

  The room was literally spinning as I tried to absorb what my son had just told me.

  “This means,” he went on, “no swearing, no drinking too much, and no passing me off to sitters so you can go out.”

  “Holy shit, Louis!”

  He frowned and I knew I’d already screwed up. It was literally as if he’d sucker-punched me. My first instinct was to be defensive. But how sad is that to have to defend myself to a six-year-old who was more mature than I was?

  “Okay. I’ll try.” I said, rumpling his hair. “Anything for you.”

  Louis smiled and I kissed the top of his head. Later that night, I thought about what he said over and over. And I realized that the kid was right.

  Louis and I were really starting to show affection for each other. And to my surprise, I discovered that my favorite time of day was picking him up after school. There was a real emotional rush every time he raced out the door and slammed into my arms. I decided that afternoon that it was time for Leonie and Louis to meet.

  “Hey!” Leonie kissed me on the cheek when she answered the door. “Who’s this little guy?” I watched carefully to see if she was upset I brought a child with me on the date.

  Louis extended his right hand, “Louis Torvald Bombay. Pleased to meet you.”

  Leonie laughed and shook his hand, shooting me a bemused look. Apparently, she was okay with it.

  I made introductions on the way to the Thai restaurant. To my surprise, Leonie and Louis hit it off immediately. In fact, they talked to each other more than they talked to me. And to my shock, I didn’t mind. For once, all the attention wasn’t on me, and yet I felt like everything was perfect. I wanted my new girlfriend to fall in love with my new son.

  While they munched on pad thai and chatted about the Gobi Desert (Louis’s new obsession), I watched them with fascination. It came as a shock to me that I was witnessing the possible birth of a family. So this was what most people did.

  A cold sweat crept over me. Oh my God. I was becoming a family man. What happened to me? I used to be perfectly content with my life. Now, in few short weeks, my life had turned upside down. Oh shit! I haven’t had sex in a long time! Panic set in and for a moment I thought I was going to hyperventilate. What was happening to me?

  I left Leonie and Louis at the table and headed for the men’s room. This might sound weird, but I needed a break. All of the sudden, I needed some space. I found a quiet stall and sat down on the toilet fully clothed.
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br />   “’Scuse me,” A deep voice interrupted my meditation. “I’m looking for Dakota Bombay.”

  That’s weird. Someone trailed me into the men’s room?

  “I’ll be out in a second.” I stood up quietly, sliding my leather belt out of the loops on my Dockers.

  The door slammed open, knocking me back against the stool. I recovered quickly, yanking on my opponent’s arm and bringing him to the floor with me. I looped the belt around his neck and twisted.

  “What the hell, man?” I asked the gurgling man in my grip, “What do you want with me?”

  “Some guy sent me,” he rasped, struggling to get his fingers between the leather and his skin.

  “Who?” I tightened my grip on his throat.

  “Doc Savage. . .”

  I almost dropped my belt. Again? I thought for a few moments about what I should ask next.

  “What did Doc Savage want you to do?” I growled in his ear.

  Shit. He was unconscious. I watched as his body dropped to the floor. Now what? After slipping my belt back on, I made sure the bathroom door was locked. Working quickly, I sat him on a toilet in one of the stalls, pulling his pants down to his ankles and leaning him back against the wall. I crawled under the door so it would stay closed and cleaned myself up in the mirror. That’s one of the things I like about strangulation. It’s not very messy and you don’t have to actually kill them. It’s all about the pressure.

  No one would notice him and by the time he woke up and we’d be long gone. I just had to make sure I paid with cash instead of a credit card and no one would know I was even there.

  “Who wants ice cream?” I announced when I made it back to the table. Louis started jumping up and down in his seat and Leonie smiled, so I guess that was a yes. I paid the bill and the three of us climbed into my car and headed for Whitey’s. Best damn ice cream in the Midwest.

  “I like you,” Leonie said to me with a wink as we sat outside eating.

  “Wow. I’m honored,” I responded. Louis ignored us both, intent on inhaling his ice cream.

  She laughed. It was a wonderful sound. Maybe the perfect sound. Huh. I always used to think the perfect sound came from a blonde, moaning with pleasure.

  “I mean it,” she answered.

  “I like you too.” Wow. This conversation was going nowhere. Then why did I feel so good?

  “Dad thinks you’re cool,” Louis said through an ice cream goatee and mustache.

  “Louis!” Was I . . . was I blushing?

  My son nodded. “It’s true. I think he’s quite taken with you.”

  Leonie smiled at me then leaned down to Louis. “You know what? I really like him too.”

  “Why?” I asked before I realized it was a strange question. I mean, I knew why I liked her. But I needed to know why she liked me. For most of my life, I just took it for granted that chicks dug me. Huh. I guess I never really cared what it was about me they liked. And yet, it seemed very important for me to know what Leonie saw in me.

  “I guess it’s because you’re funny, and weird. You don’t act around me like I think you usually act around women.”

  “What? I’m weird? Really?” Wow. Didn’t see that one coming.

  Leonie grinned. “Somehow, I feel that I’m the first woman to see who you really are. The first one to see your vulnerable side, maybe. Everything else seems like an act. But around me, you’re tongue-tied. That’s a major turn-on.”

  Oh my god. She likes me when I act like a geek? What the hell? That’s not what women wanted! They wanted handsome and confident men. Alpha males. Right? Wasn’t that right? Vulnerable? Was she bullshitting me?

  Leonie pulled a napkin out of her pocket and giggled as she wiped the ice cream off Louis’s face. She looked so natural doing that. Her mass of red hair tickled the boy’s cheek and he laughed, and I realized that Louis and Leonie belonged together. The question was, where did I fit into the picture?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  [Szell prepares to torture Babe a second time]

  Christian Szell: Oh, don't worry. I'm not going into that cavity. That nerve's already dying. A live, freshly-cut nerve is infinitely more sensitive. So I'll just drill into a healthy tooth until I reach the pulp. That is unless, of course, you can tell me that it's safe.

  - Marathon Man

  “Don’t forget about our little appointment!” Gin’s voice bubbled on the answering machine when Louis and I got home. Damn. I forgot about that. Diego was accompanying Romi’s class on a field trip, so I’d promised a month ago to take Gin to her appointment with a dental surgeon.

  Taking Gin to get her wisdom teeth out was the last thing I wanted to do. But in the Bombay family we had to use the buddy system any time we would be under anesthesia.

  “Are you sure you want him in here?” Dr. Munch asked my sister. He looked a little concerned about my presence. I could understand that. If he screwed up, he wouldn’t want a witness. But rules are rules. It only had to happen once and it happened to my great-great-great Uncle Francisco. He went in to get his gallstones out and while under the influence, started talking about killing the Mayor of Montevideo with a fish fork. Fortunately, the doctor thought he was just hallucinating and had no idea that the year before, the Mayor of Montevideo had, in fact, bought it with a fish fork in a kind of, creative tracheotomy, shall we say. Since then, well, we kind of borrowed the buddy system from the Boy Scouts.

  “Sorry, Doctor,” Gin said, “but I’m too nervous without my brother here for moral support. You understand.” Of course, my sister isn’t afraid of anything. In fact, she could probably pull her own teeth. Maybe we should consider having a dentist in the family.

  The dental surgeon reluctantly agreed, then after casting me a sidelong glance, proceeded to shoot my sister full of Novocain.

  “You’ll feel a pinch,” he said as he plunged the needle into the roof of her mouth.

  Yeah, right. A pinch. We practically had to peel Gin off the ceiling after that pinch. After three more shots on both sides, the doctor left.

  “You okay?” I asked cautiously. Gin looked like she’d had a stroke.

  “Thith feelth weird,” she slurred. Her cheeks had collapsed into jowls.

  I, of course, started to laugh.

  “Ith noth funny!” She turned red, and I laughed harder.

  “It’s just, you’re usually such a talker!” I wiped a few tears away. “And now you can’t! This is too good!”

  “Athole.” Gin crossed her arms over her chest.

  After a few minutes, the doctor came in. “Are you numb?” he asked Gin.

  She nodded after slapping both cheeks. “Yeth. Thee?”

  Dr. Munch nodded and picked up a tool I suspect was frequently used during the Spanish Inquisition.

  “You won’t feel any pain, but you will feel pressure and you’ll hear cracking and popping as I pull the tooth out.” Without waiting for her to respond, he reached into her mouth and wrestled with the firmly wedged tooth.

  I was fascinated. I’d only been on the other end before. The doc was a large man, but he practically had to put his knee on Gin’s chest to loosen up the tooth. Finally he pulled the bloody mess out. I watched with awe as he did the same thing on the other side.

  My cell went off and I saw it was a text from Paris. Turning my back on Gin, I flipped open the phone.

  First target – Norbert Munch, DDS. Last kill – whistleblower for Halliburton.

  I blinked. This couldn’t be happening. I felt like I was in a trance as I closed the phone and turned back to Gin.

  “There you go, all done.” And then, Doctor Norbert E. Munch rolled up his sleeves.

  I froze. Woody Woodpecker mocked me from his inner wrist. It was the tattoo of the National Resources assassins. Holy shit! I didn’t think it would be this easy. I mean, I knew one of them was a local – but what are the odds?

  Unfortunately, the dentist/assassin saw that I saw. I jumped for the door to block his escape. He charged and I thre
w him to the floor, where we wrestled silently on the linoleum. The man grabbed my testicles and squeezed – an act of war as far as I was concerned. Pain flooded my line of vision, and I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t scream. Of course, then my tongue hurt too. My hand reached the tray above us and I found a long handled dental mirror.

  My assailant flipped me into a submission hold. This guy was good. So good that my vision was starting to blur. I could feel myself losing consciousness. So I took the only chance I had and plunged the end of the mirror deep into his eye socket. His hold relaxed and I scrambled to my feet as he flopped around on the floor.

  “You killed my denthal thurgeon?” Gin asked woozily. Oops. I forgot about her.

  I nodded. “He’s one of the National Resources guys. I had to take him out.” I lifted his twitching wrist to show her the tattoo. “They all have these. Besides, he recognized me.”

  “Well, thath jutht fantathtic.” Gin rolled her eyes. “How the hell are we going to deal with thith? The nurth will be in any moment!”

  I hadn’t thought of that. Bombays never left behind a body if it could implicate them. And this sure seemed to be that situation. It would be tough to leave him in here when Gin was listed as the last patient he had before he died.

  Think, Dak! Gin looked like a deranged chipmunk with her cheeks stuffed with gauze. She wouldn’t be a lot of help. Great.

  The building was designed like a bunker. Low-slung, one-story with high, thin windows. I squinted, wondering if I could pass the body through it. Of course, it was getting close to rush hour and we were facing a street with a lot of traffic. No, that wouldn’t look suspicious at all.

  We’d run out of time. If they didn’t have Gin’s name, address and insurance provider, I’d just stuff the doctor in the closet and run for it. But it wouldn’t take long for them to notice he wasn’t anywhere in the building. They’d find him and Gin would be a suspect. I didn’t feel like busting her out of the police department a la the Terminator, so I had to come up with something else . . . and quickly.