Flo Charts

by Sam Cheever

  “They’re empty so that makes sense.” Flo agreed. “But why?”

  “Rat poison!”

  They both turned as TC joined them, a beat-up yellow box in one hand. The box had a picture of a dead rat on the front, with a giant X over it. “We found our arsenic.”

  Flo frowned. “Poor Betty.”

  TC eyed the dented door. “What’s up here?”

  “Maybe it was being used to bring military equipment in and out unseen?” Agnes offered. She grabbed the dented handle of the door and wrenched it, managing to only lift it about three feet. “It’s stuck,” she groaned out, her face taut with strain.

  “That’s high enough,” TC told her. She patted Agnes on the shoulder and ducked beneath the door. Flo followed her out and Agnes ducked through, letting the door slam closed behind her.

  They found themselves in a wild, untamed field. The trees were large, vegetation was high around them and the grass around the building was scrub. Actually, it was more mud than grass or weeds.

  “Look.” Agnes said, pointing.

  There was a strange set of tracks on the ground leading away from the warehouse building.

  “Unless I’m crazy,” TC told them, crouching down and sliding her fingers over the dips in the hard ground. “Those are tank track prints.”

  “You’re not crazy,” Flo said. She lifted her gaze to follow the tracks away from the building. They led to a spot where the ground seemed to dip down. “That ravine there,” Flo pointed. She took a step and her foot dropped a couple more inches than she expected as she plunged into a small hole. Pain shot along her neck from the wrenching movement. “Ow!” She reached up and touched the brace, wishing she could reach the spot on her neck that was throbbing.

  “You shouldn’t be out here, Flo,” TC scolded.

  “I’m fine. I just missed a step there.”

  “Argh!” Agnes bellowed.

  TC and Flo glanced her way and found her with one foot in the air, a slimy brown-green mess globbed onto the bottom and sides. “Dog poop!”

  “Again with the dog,” TC said. “Did you two see a dog when you were here before?”

  “Not loose on the lot, no. And no sign of one either,” Flo said. “No bed, no water bowl...”

  “No poop,” Agnes said on a grimace. She carefully pulled her shoe off and looked around for something to scrape it with. She finally hobbled over to a nearby tree and started scraping the shoe over its rough bark.

  Flo and TC shared a grin. “Catch up with us, Agnes. We’re going to keep following this track.”

  Agnes was too busy and way too disgusted to respond. As they headed toward the ravine, Flo grinned at TC. “I’m learning a lot about my new friend in this investigation.”

  “Like the fact that she’s a bit of a Tidy Heidi?”

  “Exactly like that,” Flo agreed on a laugh.

  They found themselves on a downward slope, the tracks they were following getting more faint as they walked.

  “The ground’s getting harder,” TC said on a frown. “If we go much farther it’s going to be hard to follow them.”

  Flo stopped suddenly, her gaze sliding over a pile of broken branches in the gully. The pile looked very natural, except for the fact that half of the branches piled there were from oversized evergreens with long, soft leaves. The nearest evergreen was twenty feet away. “TC, I think we’re looking at the tank.”

  Her friend touched Flo’s arm. “Stay up here.” She scrambled down the sloping sides of the ravine, at times sliding out of control on the slippery surface and then slamming into a scrub tree clinging to the side of the gully. TC used the scrub to ease herself lower on the hill and then let go, sliding the rest of the way with her hands on the ground.

  Her softly muttered expletives told Flo her descent hadn’t been entirely without pain. “Are you all right?”

  TC brushed her hands together. “I’m fine. I just scratched my palms a little.” She reached over and pulled at a branch, struggling to get it free. “These are really wound together.”

  “Somebody didn’t want us to find it,” Flo said. “I can come down and help.”

  “Not a chance. You stay where you are. You’re injured.”

  Flo shrugged and then sucked air as pain radiated down her spine.

  After a few minutes of fighting with the branches, TC managed to pull a wide swath of them free, uncovering the tank.

  “I can’t believe it,” TC said with a grin. “It’s actually a tank.”

  “That’s what we said, hun.”

  A shriek filled the air and Flo turned around to find Agnes barreling down the hill toward them, her poopy shoe in one hand and her mouth open in another scream.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The vegetation behind Agnes rippled. Something long and black showed between the shivering leaves, its breadth and ambling run enough to make Flo gasp. “Something’s chasing Agnes!”

  TC clambered up on the tank and looked out over the vegetation. “It looks like a bear. Do we have bears in this part of the state?”

  A terrifying snorting sound emerged from the vegetation. The little hairs on the back of Flo’s neck stood at attention.

  “I don’t think we have bears in any part of Indiana,” Flo responded as she took a tentative step backward. Agnes was heading directly for her and whatever it was that was chasing her was on the same trajectory. “We need to help her.” Flo looked around, not sure what they could use as a weapon against a bear.

  “You need to get on this tank with me,” TC shouted. “We’ll figure something out to help her once you’re safe.”

  A tree branch flew off the ground as the wild animal barreled through the woods. It grunted wetly, its huge body charging toward her friend.

  Flo’s eyes felt like they were going to pop out of her head.

  “Come on, Flo.”

  She turned to find TC standing on the side of the gully, beckoning her with one hand and a big stick in the other. She took one more look at Agnes and hurried toward TC. “Maybe we can use the tank somehow to save her.”

  “I’ll try to slow it down so Agnes can climb up with you.”

  Flo nodded and hit the side of the gully, mostly sliding down on her butt to get to the bottom faster. She stepped up onto the ladder on the side of the big vehicle, adrenaline giving her an agility she wouldn’t normally have. “I’ll see if I can get inside this thing.”

  “No! Oh Agnes, get up!”

  Flo stopped and looked toward her friend in horror.

  Agnes was on the ground. She clearly hadn’t seen the fallen tree branch she’d tripped over, and was sprawled on her face, the shoe still clutched in her hand.

  Another, terrifying grunt sounded as if the animal pursuing her smelled victory and then the vegetation split wide and the beast shot out into the open, stopping a few feet away from Agnes.

  TC frowned. “Is that...?”

  “Rufus?” Flo murmured. “Agnes, that’s Rufus.”

  Agnes was scrambling backward, her gaze on the pig’s small, mean eyes. “I see that, Flo.”

  “It’s just a pig,” TC said, laughing.

  “TC, have you ever seen one of those movies where the killer throws his victim’s body into the pig’s wallow to get rid of them?” Flo asked.

  TC’s grin disappeared.

  Rufus’ curly tail spun around a couple of times and he snorted wetly. He pawed the ground and gave a squeal that made Agnes jump.

  “Get slowly to your feet!” Flo called out to her friend.

  Agnes shook her head. “If I move he’ll be on me.”

  “Just move really slowly.”

  Agnes took a deep, long breath and braced her hands on the ground, her gaze locked on the big animal as she pushed to her feet and slowly straightened.

  TC moved closer, her stick at the ready. “Walk backwards towards me,” TC instructed. “Keep eye contact with it.”

  “What are you, some kind of pig whisperer?” Agnes asked TC as she eased close
r.

  “No. A friend of mine’s family in high school had pigs. They were really sweet.”

  Rufus stomped a forefoot and snorted in irritation.

  “I don’t think the pig agrees.” Agnes eased up next to TC. “Now what?”

  “We need to distract it somehow.”

  “How do you distract a pig?”

  TC shrugged. “You have any truffles in your pocket?”

  Rufus grunted and took a step forward and Agnes stiffened, hands out to her sides in a comical defensive maneuver. Then her eyes went wide. “Wait. It’s not truffles but maybe...” She reached into the pocket of her sweater.

  Rufus shot off the mark, his hooves thundering toward them across the hard dirt.

  TC screamed. Agnes pulled something round and red from her pocket and flung it at the pig. It hit his snout with a wet smack and ricocheted into the air.

  Rufus skidded to a stop, squealing indignantly, and then snuffled the ground for the Pong toy Agnes had thrown at him.

  “You stole the Pong?” TC scolded Agnes as they slipped down the gully.

  “I didn’t really steal it. I thought Tolstoy might like it.”

  “And that’s not stealing it how?”

  Agnes’ feet went out from under her and she slammed to her butt on the ground, skidding the rest of the way to the tank. She crashed up against the tracks with a muffled, Umph sound and lay there groaning.

  TC skidded the rest of the way down and grabbed her arm. “Come on, you need to get on that tank.”

  Flo peeked over the top. “Hurry up, you two. The pig’s losing interest in the Pong.”

  “Go!” TC urged Agnes, shoving her arm.

  Agnes grabbed the ladder and started climbing. She was slow and awkward and had to stop a couple of times to gather her breath.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m just winded from that run. I’m not really built for running.”

  The understatement of the century, Flo thought. “We need to get TC up too so you’ll need to dig in and hurry.”

  Agnes gritted her teeth and climbed a couple more rungs, but the way she kept looking down told Flo there was something else going on. “You’re afraid of heights, aren’t you?”

  Agnes cast a worried glance toward the ground. “Maybe a little.”

  Rufus gave up trying to get food from the Pong and started off in their direction again.

  “The pig’s on the move!” Flo shouted to TC. “You need to start climbing now.”

  TC looked up at Agnes’ wide boohind and frowned. “I’m not sure...”

  “He’s running!”

  TC flew off the ground as if she had rockets on her shoes and hit the ladder, already climbing when her hand and feet hit the rungs.

  Flo reached over the edge and grabbed Agnes’ arm, her fingers barely encircling half of it. “Hurry, Agnes.”

  Agnes finally made it to the top and threw herself to the flat surface just as the pig scampered down the side of the gully.

  TC didn’t waste any time following Agnes up. The three of them sat on the tank, TC and Agnes panting, and stared at the animal snorfling around the tracks.

  “Why would Sydney’s pig be here?” Flo murmured to herself.

  “Maybe it’s take your pig to work day,” Agnes joked.

  TC snorted out a laugh.

  Then Flo thought about the “dog” items in the trailer and the mud on Bickel’s boots and the pieces fell together.

  But before she had a chance to fill her friends in, they heard the terrifying sound of a shotgun being pumped.

  “Why am I getting a sense of déjà vu?” Agnes asked with a sigh.

  They turned slowly toward the sound, finding the lone figure with the shotgun standing near the tree where Agnes had scraped the poop off her shoe.

  Flo’s eyes went wide. “Bickel?”

  The office manager smiled. “Surprise!”

  TC glanced quickly toward Flo. “You know this guy?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “I’m totally suing you for the attack stairs,” Agnes told him angrily.

  Bickel shrugged. “Go ahead. After I take care of you busybodies I’m out of here. The beaches of Mexico are particularly nice this time of year.”

  TC spoke out of the side of her mouth. “I did research on shotguns. From this distance the shot pattern will be really wide. He can only wound us.”

  “Well, that makes me feel better,” Agnes murmured.

  TC shrugged.

  “The police know we’re here, Bickel.”

  “Do they? I doubt it. And will they think to look back here for you? Maybe in a few days. By then Rufus will be done with you and even your families won’t recognize you.”

  “Ew!” Agnes said. “That’s really evil.”

  Bickel shrugged.

  “Rufus belongs to you?” Flo asked. She was stalling for time while she considered their options.

  They didn’t seem to have very many.

  “No, but Syd’s a sap. He never questioned all these years why I wanted to borrow his pig once in a while. Or why I’d bring Rufus special treats. The pig loves me.”

  “You’ve had that poor pig eat other people?”

  Bickel frowned. “Of course not. You think I’m a monster?”

  “Uh, yeah,” TC said.

  “I was just building a bond with him. He’s really a nice boy when he’s not hungry.”

  “Here’s hoping he’s not hungry,” Flo mumbled.

  “What about Felz?” Agnes asked. “Won’t he wonder where his pig is over the next few days?”

  Bickel laughed. “Syd’s not going to be wondering anything. He’s way past wondering.”

  “You killed him?” TC shrieked. “And you’re surprised we think you’re a monster?”

  “You met Syd, right? I doubt anybody will miss him. Or even blame me for putting him out of his misery.”

  Flo shook her head. “Why?”

  “Why have I been trafficking in arms? Money of course. Those cartels south of the border are hungry for killing toys. And they have lots of money to spend. Win, win.”

  “What does Sydney Felz have to do with it?” Agnes asked.

  “Isn’t that obvious. He likes his toys. He doesn’t require much. I give the dregs to him and in return he lets me use his vast property way outside of town to store my toys until the cartel gets a chance to pick them up.”

  “You were planning on taking this tank to his place?”

  “Along with the turret topped Humvee and a few rocket launchers I’ve been delivering over the last week.”

  Flo felt her eyes go round. “Where are you getting all this stuff?”

  “I have my sources. But I’m not sharing them with you. Pity. You could really use an untraceable weapon right now.” His face split in a slow, mean smile. “Oh, that’s right. You won’t need a weapon in a few minutes. Which returns me to my task.” He made as if to check his watch. “I have a couple of funerals to get to.”

  He lifted the shotgun until it was pointing at them.

  TC gave Flo a little shove. “Behind the turret!”

  Flo fell to her knees on the slippery metal just as the gun went off. Chunks of metal clanged down all around them, sending sparks up as the buckshot pinged off the tank’s surface. She crawled quickly around the turret, TC hot on her heels. Bickel pumped the shotgun again and more buckshot peppered the top and sides of the tank.

  Agnes gave a yelp of pain and Flo panicked. “Agnes! Where is she?”

  Another gun fired, a totally different sound, and there was a more distant yelp of pain. Then silence.

  And grunting.

  Slowly, Flo peered over the top of the turret and saw Sydney Felz standing over Bickel with a pistol. Rufus snuffled around the downed man, his wet snout painting the office manager’s clothing shiny with snot.

  Felz finally looked up. “Come on out now. He ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

  TC clasped Flo’s hand squeezing it tight. “Do
n’t you move.”

  “Did you kill him?” Flo called out.

  “’Course not! I just shot his thigh. He ain’t goin’ nowhere. Rufus ‘ll make sure a that.”

  Sirens pulsed through the growing dusk. Felz glanced back toward the warehouse and office. “That will be the cops. I called ’em on my way over.” He frowned. “I was hopin’ they’d show up before I had ta put a hole in him.”

  Flo gave TC’s hand a squeeze and tugged loose, easing to her feet. “Did you see what happened to my friend Agnes?”

  “I’m okay, Flo. Sort of.” The weakened voice emerged from inside the tank. Flo glanced downward, finding Agnes sprawled into a space way too small for her large frame. Her arms were sticking straight up and her legs were tangled around the steering arms of the tank.

  “Were you hit?”

  “No.” Agnes grimaced as she tried to sit up. “That man’s a terrible shot.”

  Felz chuckled. “Ain’t that the truth? Bickel’s always been queer for that stupid shotgun. Too bad for him he never understood the connection ’tween distance and accuracy.” Felz reached up to rub a spot on his sleeve that Flo noticed was stained in blood.

  “You’re wounded.”

  “Barely. He marked me up some. That’s about all.” Felz shook his head. “He didn’t even check to make sure I was dead before he loaded Rufus up in the van and skedaddled.” Felz kicked Bickel’s shoes. “You always was butt stupid,” he told the other man.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Apparently, Bickel has a cousin who works as the state coordinator for the 1033 Program,” Peters told them. “He’s been very talkative.”

  When Flo, Agnes and TC all just stared at him, clearly confused, he elaborated. “The governmental program that allows police departments to purchase military equipment to use or resell? It was shut down for a while but it’s back and a lot of smaller departments are using it to augment their operating budgets.”

  “How can they do that?” Flo asked. She was slightly alarmed at the idea that the Silver City PD could be rolling down the streets in a tank like the one they saw in the warehouse.

  “Recipients in the program have a year to use or sell the items. They use a lot of the stuff, but some of it they do sell off to private citizens...collectors and stuff.”