♦
Stevie Nine-Fingers was not a happy man. His vacation in paradise had been for shit so far. He no sooner hit town than there’s some storm coming, evacuation order for all the tourists. Stevie figured maybe this could be a good situation, bars were too crowded anyway, thin things out a little. Maybe hook-up with some local hottie, do some serious partying.
Then he found out the bars all had to close. No liquor sales when there’s an evac for the island. So much for hurricane parties.
But he got himself in a situation anyway involving this chubby dancer from the strip club, a family-size bottle of good scotch, and this tiny-ass motel room. It wasn’t exactly a scene from ‘Casablanca’, but he did have a hangover worthy of an Oscar as he staggered out into the parking lot of the motel. Bimbo was busy heaving her guts out in the bathroom, so he’d decided to get some air. He was thinking the air back home in New Jersey would be about right.
He hated Chevys, but it was the only car in the lot, so he found the right master key and got in. Weather was sure fucked in this town. Blowing like a bitch with occasional stinging rain was not what he had in mind when he’d decided to take some time off from his job with the chop shop.
He was in supply. Turned professional when he found out he could make a helluva lot more money in vehicular provision than working for his uncle the locksmith.
Bad, was the situation with the law, which had him leaving town once in a while when things got a little hot. Good, was you pretty much set your own hours, and with his locksmith experience, he didn’t have to jack around with slim-jims and hammer drills. He had the key thing down.
Current situation called for dealing with the local yokels and this quarantine bullshit. Seen it on the news they weren’t letting anyone on or off the island. What the fuck was going on? Stevie didn’t know better, he’d think someone had it in for him.
Cruise the bridge leading off the island. Not much of a bridge, pretty short. Nothing compared to some of the ones he’d seen a couple days earlier driving that little convertible down the Keys. Some bullshit barricade up across the bridge and a couple cops talking to some people. Hard-core locals didn’t want to leave when the evac came down. Start with the quarantine, and suddenly everybody wants to leave. A few people looking pretty pissed off talking to the cops there in the rain.
Other side of the bridge he could see more police, and TV camera crews, standing around in the crappy weather. Had to get across that bridge.
Air conditioning didn’t work in the piece-of-shit Chevy. Figures. Stevie had a plan though, a plan for every situation. Drive down the tourist street there, Duval Street, throw some hunks of rock through a few windows. Nobody around. Couple alarms go off. Anymore cops around, that would give them something to do. Head over to the shopping center he seen coming into town. Thought he might have to use another rock, but found the right key for a side door to Sears. Check out the toy section. Fifteen minutes later he’s back at the bridge. Park next to a van by a boat ramp going down into the water. No boats out today, just people arguing with the cops guarding the bridge. Got the carseat in the back and the doll’s hand up against the car window. Make sure the windows are up tight, drop the Chevy in gear and run for the cops. Chevy deserved it for not having a/c.
“Hey, officer! I got a bad situation here!” Stevie was looking freaked and pointing at the car going into the water. “My little girl is in that car!”
Every eye goes to the car bobbing along in the waves from the storm. You just could see a small hand inside the car. People screaming and running to get a better look at the car, which was moving down-current fast, away from the bridge.
Stevie could see the cops and cameras on the other side of the bridge all watching the car as it came toward a small mangrove island in the channel. The current pulled the car out of sight behind some trees just as he reached the other side of the bridge. Cops on that side were screaming into hand-held radios and reporters were screaming at cameramen.
As afternoon became evening, Stevie Nine Fingers leisurely cruised across the Seven Mile Bridge looking out over the white-capped waters in a reporter’s Toyota with ice-cold air conditioning.
♦
Orange Dali had been able to overcome his shyness when it was made clear to him by the women at the hotel how important it was. He told them about the men taking another man out of the hotel. The man looked sick.
“The man they put in the car, I think he lives around here. I followed them on a friend’s bicycle. They went to a motel on the other side of the island and I saw them take the man upstairs. They were acting like the man was just drunk, but he wasn’t. Something was wrong with him.”
He told them the name of the motel, and a plan was laid out. When they got there, the guy at the front desk got cooperative when the right amount of money was shown. Borrow a maid’s uniform and cart, and they were in.
♦
“There’s some torn duct tape and a pair of underwear in the bathroom, Consuelo. Briefs.” Louie and Gus were both boxer men, but the most noticeable element of their current attire was the wraps of telephone cable.
“Brad wore briefs.” The one in the maid’s outfit, Lydia, got a look from the blonde. “Okay, so I didn’t come upon this bit of knowledge the way I would have liked. I helped with his laundry once.”
The two men had overcome the initial surprise of the sister’s visit and were not happy.
“You little broads better come to your senses and untie us here. You don’t know who you’re messing with.” Louie had been making threats while the babe with the long dark hair was winding cable around them. Gustov was recovered from the head-butt and pissed. The other two women ignored them after they were tied. They put the guns on the laundry cart and started checking out everything in the room. The dark-haired one with the weird eyes just stood there staring at them. It was creeping them out bad, especially Louie. He was pretty sure she was the same hot number he’d seen around the hotel before. He didn’t like the way things were going at all.
“The fuck is her problem? Why’s she staring at us like that?”
The blonde called Consuelo was pulling everything out from under the bed. “Lot of supplies here. Enough for a long stay.” She stopped for a minute and looked at Louie strapped into the room’s lone chair. “You bozos don’t want to find out about my sister’s little trick with her eyes, you better tell us where Brad is.”
While the two men came up with another round of heartfelt, though not all that original, insults and threats, Lydia finished looking over the contents of their wallets.
“These guys are both from Miami. Somebody sent you here to kidnap Brad? This has something to do with the quarantine doesn’t it?” Both men got quiet after a few more obscenities. “Last chance to be helpful and still have some of your sanity left for your golden years, boys.”
Gus let loose with more of the same, but Louie surprised even himself with the utter vulgarity of his threats. Lydia just looked at them and sighed. “Thank you, gentleman for making this easier for me to say.” She motioned to the dark-haired one. “They’re all yours, my dear.”
Consuelo rolled the big man over so he could see what was going on with his partner, then held Louie’s head in an iron grip. Louie started sweating like Niagara Falls.
♦
Brad was wondering what was going on. He was a little thirsty, but the two inches of seawater he was laying in was not what he had in mind.
♦
There was no way they could get a helicopter in the air in that kind of weather, so the police had a boat brought in. Before long there was a good crowd at each end of the bridge braving the weather for a look.
The news people were ecstatic. They had a clip of the sinking car with the baby in back going around a bend in the channel. It was only a few seconds long, so they played it a lot. Plenty of interviews. Officer Muldoon had recently joined the Monroe County Sheriff’s Department Motorcycle Division after leaving a similar position on th
e mainland.
“The Sheriff’s Department has assets in place and will be fully investigating this incident in a timely manner.” The officer seemed to be happy with what he’d said and was gesturing to a big powerboat on a trailer parked nearby.
“Officer Muldoon, so why aren’t they using this boat to find the car with the child in it?” The officer was hoping the reporter wouldn’t ask that. He’d been doing so well, too.
“This is a very difficult situation, miss. High winds, rip tides, dangerous currents, those sorts of things. But don’t worry, we have everything under control.”
The real problem was the only boat ramp for three miles was on the Key West side of the bridge, the quarantine side. Someone finally made a decision, and the boat was driven across the bridge and launched just before dark. Around a corner in the channel the Chevy was perched on a sandbar in a foot of water. The boat was able to get close enough in the rough seas and wind to see there wasn’t anything in the car except a plastic doll in a carseat. It was looking like an embarrassing report back on land when they heard yelling from a tiny mangrove island nearby.
“Help! Over here! Somebody help!”
It was another hour after they got back to the boat ramp before someone else finally made a decision and the police boat was allowed back across the bridge to the ever growing crowd of curious public and impatient media. The miraculous rescue of two men from the news team feared lost the day before was the top story on the evening news statewide. Everyone forgot about the Chevy.
♦
Consuelo didn’t have to hold Louie’s head for very long. After the first few seconds he was so far gone into Josephine’s eyes he was a veg. Lydia was next door checking out Louie’s room with the key she’d found in his pocket. Gustov watched from the bed as his partner’s face contorted into a silent scream.
“You little bitches fucking better muhmmm…” Consuelo slapped a good-size piece of duct tape over Gustov’s mouth. “That will be quite enough of that, Mr. Potty Mouth. You’re going to throw off her concentration. But not to worry,” she patted him on the arm and winked, “you’re next!” The big man struggled on the bed against the cable for a few minutes before he finally tired. He looked and probably felt like a big helpless slug.
Consuelo came out of the bathroom with a plastic cup of water. Josephine had her face about a foot away from Louie’s, giving him the full effect. The well-dressed hood from Miami was still locked in a silent scream.
“Better ease off there Josey, don’t want to give him too much at once and have him blow a tube on us.” She gently touched her sister’s shoulder. “Blink, Sis.”
Josephine did a slow blink and came back away from Louie. Louie slammed his eyes shut, and Lydia could hear him scream from next door. Consuelo tossed the water in his face and he brought it down to a steady sob.
“Maybe took him a bit far, Josey.” Josephine shrugged and Consuelo got close to whisper in the man’s ear. “If you don’t want to see the bad little witch’s eyes again, I would suggest you tell us where Brad is.”
Once Louie was able to speak again he told everything he knew. He definitely didn’t want to go back inside those eyes. Just to be on the safe side he kept his eyes closed until he was untied and allowed to go into the bathroom to relieve his aching bowels. An hour later, they had the same story on Brad from the big man after he took a look down inside the pit behind those black eyes. Besides ratting out their boss and the client, the big tough guy also peed his pants.
♦
Lydia had already looked for the white Chevy Impala that Louie said Gustov had their captive stashed in. No Chevy, no Brad. Meeting time for the sisters while Gustov was crying and changing pants in the bathroom.
“If we had more time, Josey could get things out of them even they didn’t know they knew.” Lydia got nods from her sisters. “But I think we got most of what these weasels know. They both say Brad is in the trunk of a car, a car that isn’t here.”
Louie was tied again and face down on the bed trying to look inconspicuous. Consuelo had an idea.
“Let’s roll. We take the Caddy, start with the streets around the motel, work our way out. We don’t spot the car we go back to he hotel and ask Wiola, maybe she can come up with an idea. She always seemed to know just what to do.” She looked at her sisters. “We need to take the goons with us.”
Lydia was pissed. She wanted to kick the shit out of someone, preferably one of these meatheads who’d been hired to kidnap Brad so MegaDrug, of all people, could pull some big scam. “Let’s do it then. Josey, get Laurel and Hardy here ready to travel.”
♦
Brad was really scared now. He had lost it a little after the voices left. They probably couldn’t hear him kicking the trunk over the sound of the wind and waves.
Someone had obviously driven the car into the water and it had floated along for a short time before stopping. Some water was getting in the trunk for a while there, but it had mostly gone back out. He figured the tide must have been going out because the car had stopped rocking around so much. The air was getting bad so he’d kicked the corner of the trunk for a while and finally got it to bend enough to let a little air in.
There was time to think about things like tides. With a storm coming, the tides were usually a lot higher than normal. He had no idea where he was, but he sure hoped someone got him out of that trunk before the tide came back in.
♦
After an hour of driving deserted streets looking for the white Chevy, they pulled up in front of the hotel.
“I’ll try to make this quick.” Consuelo let her sisters out, then drove around back for a few things out of the garage. Off she drove into the stormy night with the two men still in the trunk of the Cadillac. She wouldn’t tell her sisters what she had in mind, just that she’d given it some thought.
The television was on in the lobby and Orange Dali was camped out on a sofa with the Weather Channel.
“What’s the latest?”
The two women were trying to get their hair under control from all the wind outside. Dali was engrossed and held up a finger.
“Commercial coming!”
Lydia brushed at the owl’s nest on her head while Josephine casually ran fingers through her long, silky, shampoo-ad black hair and checked the phone machine for messages. The commercial came on. Dali hit mute but didn’t look away from the television, just closed his eyes so he could concentrate.
“Hurricane Zenobia continues to remain stationary. However, forecasters from the National Weather Service expect either a slow northerly or westerly movement by morning with a slight increase in wind speed.
“The quarantine remains in effect at this time. Investigators from the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta are expected to arrive in Key West tomorrow to check on the possibility that the virus alert is a hoax.”
Lydia gave her sister a wink. She’d made a call on the pay phone before they left the motel. The young artist continued his report.
“Two men from a news team feared lost were found alive by the Monroe County Sheriff’s Department this evening.”
Josephine shook out her now perfect hair and signed she was going to check on Sara and Wiola. Lydia was impressed with Dali’s reportage. She’d had him pegged as a bit flighty from seeing him on the street.
“Hey Dali, thanks for filling me in.” Still not turning his head, eyes closed, but a big smile now. Proud.
Lydia wondered what Jeremy was up to as she headed for the back still brushing.
♦
Jeremy was taking a little nap. He must have been tired. He did seem a little winded after the wasps chased him around the backyard.
I found a potato in the trash and rolled it into Jeremy’s bathroom while he was conked out on his bed. It was a little big, so I had to use his toothbrush to pack it down into the toilet good and tight. Boy, is he going to be surprised.
∨ Key Witch ∧
16
Witchcraft
&n
bsp; The wind was gusting like a proud parent at a little league baseball game. The rain squalled when her kid got a bad call, but otherwise kept quiet. By the eighth inning it was a tie game; it could go either way.
When Lydia came into the room, she found Sara sitting up in bed and Wiola in the chair beside her. Josephine was pacing back and forth, stuttering and signing away about Brad and their little adventure at the motel across town.
“So, you didn’t find him? What about the two men?” Wiola’s look reminded Lydia of their years as students to a mysterious and often overbearing teacher. Now the teacher was also their real mother.
“Consuelo is dropping them off somewhere, she should be back soon. We’re pretty sure they had Brad in the trunk of a car outside of the motel, but we couldn’t find the car. We did a lot of looking too.”
The hopelessness of the situation was coming down on Lydia and she didn’t like it. Wiola had come up with solutions plenty of times in the past, maybe she could help. She obviously understood Brad meant a lot to her, not to mention he was the one person who could clear up the quarantine hoax that was screwing with their new hometown. Wiola looked like she was giving it some thought.
“I guess going to the police wouldn’t do much good. They must have plenty to keep them occupied already, not to mention they might not appreciate your little raid on the motel.” She frowned a little, but there was mischief in her eyes. She obviously approved of her daughters’ initiative.
“Unless you have any better ideas, Wiola, I’m going back out on the streets to look for him when Consuelo gets back with the car. Of course, the gas stations are closed and there isn’t much gas left in the tank.”
Lydia felt a bad sensation in the pit of her stomach. Wiola and Sara traded a long look. The older woman gestured to her two daughters still standing by the bed to pull some chairs close.
“There is one thing we might try to find your friend. You girls remember Logan and I telling you about lucid dreaming.” Wiola looked at Sara again. “We’ve been doing some catching up while you were gone. A lot of years since we’ve seen each other. Sara here always had a lot of vivid dreams when she was a child, and she had some expert instruction in lucid dreaming when we were in that house in Mexico. Anyway, from what she’s told me here today, it sounds like your big sister is quite the accomplished dreamer these days. Even more so than I had hoped.” An approving nod at Sara. “I told you girls before that meditation, lucid dreaming, and remote viewing were all related. A lot of things in the sorcerer’s world are just lucid dreaming in one form or another. When Rosa told you to try to find Sara, it wasn’t just so you’d find out about your real mother, there was another reason too.” Wiola took a long breath and looked at each of her daughters before continuing. “Each of you has certain unique abilities that Logan and I recognized and helped you develop, and over the years you’ve grown into independent and strong women.
Key Witch Page 12
