Totally Fishy (A Miller Sisters Mystery)

by Gale Borger

  Mark had taken the top off the Cooper hours before, but now the afternoon sun beat down on their heads. Tom was asleep, so Mark quietly set the top back up, only locking one latch for fear of waking his cranky cousin. Their section of the parking lot was in direct sunlight, and the day marched on. Mark fiddled with the seatbelt, and then proceeded to make animal figures out of duct tape.

  Hot, bored, and having no more fingernails to chew, Mark crept quietly from the car with the car bomb in a backpack. He inched along the rows, stopping whenever he heard a scrape or bump. Finding the Suzuki proved harder when creeping along bumpers, but Mark knew how to count and made it with only a couple of glitches.

  He poked his head up and saw a police car cruising his direction. Rolling under a minivan, he held his breath. If Mark were Irish, he would have known that according to Murphy's Law, the owners of the van hiding him would choose that moment to return to their vehicle for lunch. But as Mark listened to the clatter and slamming of doors, he prayed some snot-nosed kid wouldn't drop a ball or chase a cat, or take a whiz on the tire and spot him under their vehicle.

  Sure enough, the van rocked as a family arrived and the doors slid open. He heard dragging sounds as they pulled out a cooler filled with food. He rolled his eyes at the loud whiny noises, as spoiled American children made demands. Mark settled in to wait. "Snot-nosed American kids. They should see where I grew up then they'd have a reason to complain," he muttered.

  The smell of peanut butter filled his nostrils and his stomach growled as the family ate lunch. Crap. That's all he needed. He had to get out of here and back to the Cooper. Mark inched toward the front bumper. He heard sounds of the lunch being packed up and let out a breath. Thanks be to God they were going back into the park.

  At the sound of, "Okay kids, let's go," Mark smiled.

  More sounds of closing lids and the van rocked. Oh, no, they were getting in, not out! Visions of the family driving out of the parking space exposing Mark smiling a toothy grin and holding a car bomb flashed through his mind. He was about to make a break for the car in front of him when he spotted a pair of extra small feet next to his shoulder.

  The sound of a zipper made Mark blanch. He scuttled across the width of the van just as the sound of liquid hitting pavement reached his ears. A stream of tinkle made its way around the tire and Mark watched with morbid curiosity as it filled in the cracks in the asphalt and wound its way around pebbles and garbage. The trickle of urine became a stream and Mark eyed it warily. "Wow. Good thing he's a little guy. The kid will run out any second."

  He waited as the stream continued. Mark began to panic as it crept closer to him. How the heck much water could one small kid hold? The trickle now looked like a raging torrent, crashing against rocks and breaking up into whitewater rapids. What the hell, hasn't this kid taken a whiz since last year?

  Mark inched away until he plastered himself against the opposite tire, and realized with irony that not only was he pissed off, he was about to be pissed on!

  In his deepest voice, Mark growled, "Okay kid, pinch it off now or I'll break it off!"

  The stream cut off immediately. The kid screamed like someone had stabbed him. All hell broke loose as the mommy jumped out of the driver's door. This gave Mark the opportunity to scoot across the aisle and dive under the car next to him. He crabbed forward and slid under the next car in line. Thankfully, the surrounding cars sat far enough off the ground that he could squeeze under. He kept it up in a zigzag pattern until he was far enough away not to be noticed. He got up and pretended to tie his shoes as he discretely brushed off his clothes. He grinned when he heard a little voice cry.

  "Mommy! Mommy! The Pee-Pee Monster yelled at me. Come look. It's the Pee-Pee Monster! He said he'd bite it off!"

  "That'll teach the little bastard not to piss in public." Mark tucked in his shirt and strolled casually to the Cooper.

  Tom was awake when he slid into the passenger's seat. He opened one eye, took a deep breath, and calmly asked, "Any chance that screaming over there has anything to do with you?"

  "Naw, some kid screaming about a monster. Probably pissed his nappies in the fun house."

  Tom sniffed the air. "Smells like that Pee-Pee Monster got you too."

  Mark took a whiff and felt his pants. He inspected his jeans and saw a wet splotch down by his boots. He grabbed for the door handle. "Why, that rotten little pisser…"

  Tom grabbed his arm. "Hold on, amigo." Between chuckles, Tom said, "Fine bad guy you are. You went from being the Terminator to being the Urinator. Hah-ha-ha! The Urinator who does a chicken dance. Oh how far the mighty have fallen. Ha-ha!"

  Mark shoved. Tom flew out his door and lay howling on his back in the parking lot. His legs still inside the car, he clutched his middle as he guffawed at his own jokes. Mark slammed out of the car and took off across the parking lot.

  Tom wiped the tears from his eyes and stood. He could see Mark heading in the direction of the Suzuki. He sobered, grabbed his backpack of tools, and headed after him, chuckling every time he thought of Mark getting peed on.

  As he approached the car, Tom decided there was no reasoning with Mark. Tom had messed with his delicate ego, and Mark now had something to prove. He already had the car open from the passenger's side and wired the bomb to the driver's door.

  "Why the door, Mark? I thought we agreed on the ignition."

  "Because it's how I want it done. Quick, easy, done. You got a problem with that? Let's just get this out of the way. Then we can take care of the others and get out of this godforsaken country!"

  Tom looked around and took a deep breath. Hands on hips, he observed, "I don't know, Mark. I kind-of like it here. I think you had the right of it. This might be somewhere we want to settle."

  "Naw, I'd probably kill some little pisser and that would be that." Mark finished in the car and carefully set the small bomb between the seat and the door. He backed out toward Tom, who had his nose wrinkled against the smell that emanated from Mark's pant leg. Mark locked and carefully closed the car door. "Let's go shopping, I'm still pissed off." He wiped the door handle clean and walked briskly away.

  Tom leaned down to pick up both back packs and burst out laughing again. "Better to be pissed off than pissed on, I say." He stumbled back toward the Cooper and threw the backpacks into the car. Still chuckling, he crawled into the driver's seat.

  "Would you just shut up and drive, you moron? At the rate you're going, we'll never make it back."

  Tom wiped his eyes and started the car. "Bladder late than never."

  Mark scowled. "Knock it off with the piss jokes, Tom. Turn on the radio or something."

  "Maybe I can find some 'Urethra' Franklin. Ha-ha-ha! I kill me."

  Mark punched Tom in the arm. "I'm going to kill you in a minute."

  "Okay, okay I'll stop! The mall is right over here, we can take a leak…I mean a peek inside and buy you some new pants. Sound good amigo?"

  "Sounds good to me. There's a sign for blue jeans. Let's go."

  * * *

  After four pairs of jeans, three CD's, three paperbacks, a new pair of tennis shoes, some new socks, a couple of Cinnabons, a personalized keychain, and some Cold Stone ice cream, they headed to the car.

  Back in the parking lot of Great America, they found a parking space about thirty rows away from the rigged Suzuki, right on the end. Mark wiggled into his new jeans and said, "Now this is what I call a front row seat."

  "Yeah, if I had binoculars."

  "Which I just happen to have." Mark pulled a pair of bird watching binoculars out of a bag and settled back. He said to Tom, "Quit whining and read a book. We still might have a long time to wait."

  Tom slurped his ice cream and belched. "Shoulda let me buy that portable DVD player. I could be watching Shrek by now."

  Mark ignored him and slipped a CD in the player. "The Beach Boys, man I love surfer music."

  Tom mumbled, "All that talk about water just makes me want to pee."

 
; "I heard that. Just suck it in; you just went at the mall."

  "Oh, yeah, I remember."

  Tom looked out the windshield. He suddenly hit Mark with the back of his hand. "Hey, Mark, look at that! Aren't those our guys? What's with the duck hat? And those balloons. He chuckled. "Do they look like the demented tourists from hell or what?"

  "They are tourists." Mark came close to a smile as he took in the sight before him. Luis and Alfredo looked like an advertisement for souvenir sales. One could barely see them under the funky sunglasses, glow necklaces, T-shirts, funny hats, sippy cups, a giant stuffed Scooby-Doo, and Mylar balloons. They weaved like a couple of drunks trying to balance their booty. "No wonder they're leaving early. They'd need a trailer to get anything else back."

  Tom brightened. "Think we could steal their Twickets before we blow them up? They won't need them to get back in free tomorrow, they'll be dead."

  Mark rolled his eyes and Tom looked away across the parking lot. He spotted a man in a sweatshirt looking like he was holding something in his sleeve. He looked around and dodged behind a car. "Hey, Mark? Look over there."

  "Never mind the damn Twicket," Mark said through gritted teeth. "Just keep an eye on those guys."

  The man in the sweatshirt skirted the parked cars quickly, looking in windows as he passed each vehicle. Tom watched as he weaved quickly through the aisles. "Mark, look over there. There's a guy–"

  "Shut up, Tom. They're coming."

  The man in the sweatshirt was now three rows away from the Suzuki, still ducking and weaving. Tom knew a carjacker when he saw one. "Mark, that guy! He's headed for the Suzuki. I think he's going to break in!"

  "What?"

  "Oh, my God! Tom threw open his door and tried to bolt. Mark caught his T-shirt and dragged him back in the car. "Where the hell are you going? The brothers are headed toward the car now."

  Tom scrambled to sit up. "The guy, the guy in the sweatshirt. That guy over there is going to steal the damn car. We gotta stop him or he'll get blown to bits! We gotta tell him–Ohhh, Shit."

  A fireball blew skyward as the would-be carjacker popped open the driver's door of the Suzuki. Luis and Alfredo were close enough to be thrown back from the blast and land in a heap in the parking lot. The barely latched roof of the Cooper flew off and landed on the hood of an SUV behind it. Windows shattered on surrounding cars, and alarms went off by the dozens. Bits of engine, rubber, and car-jacker rained down on the parking lot as Mark and Tom slowly stood on the seats of the roofless Cooper, watching open-mouthed as the scene in front of them played out in slow motion. Tom jerked open an umbrella and held it over their heads as they stood staring at the ball of fire across the parking lot. Bits and pieces of whatever plinked softly off the umbrella and fell to the ground. Mark held out his hand to catch some debris, and a pinkie finger plopped into his palm. They both stared at it.

  "Shhhit." Mark dropped the finger.

  "Oops," Tom said.

  They looked at each other and slowly lowered themselves down into the car. They sat in stunned silence as chaos reigned (or rained) around them. The scream of fire trucks and squad cars shook them out of their stupor and as one, they exited the car.

  As if by unspoken agreement, Tom and Mark calmly walked back to the SUV and retrieved the roof of the Cooper. After some hand pounding and Tom jumping on one corner, they got the roof fastened down. They leaned against their car and crossed their arms.

  Tom broke the silence first. "What now?"

  Mark shook his head. "Don't know. Plan B I guess."

  "And what exactly is 'Plan B'?"

  "We'll think of something." He stiffened. "Oh, no, that's all we need. Here they come. They've spotted us!"

  Mark spazzed and spun to face the Cooper. He said out of the corner of his mouth, "Act casual. Look surprised. Pretend like we followed the fire trucks or heard the blast, but we just got here."

  "Casual, right." Tom leaned against the Cooper and plastered a smile on his face.

  Mark faced forward again and tried to look calm. He arranged his face in what he thought looked relaxed, and Tom thought he looked rather constipated. Not knowing what to do with his hands, Mark raised a hand to lean on the Cooper. Forgetting the window was down, he hit open space instead and fell through. Mark let out a high-pitched screech as he landed head first on the passenger side floor with his feet dangling out the window.

  Tom grabbed his feet and yanked him out. "You idiot. He mimicked Mark in a girlie voice. "'Look casual,' he says. You look like a constipated moron. Now shut up, here they are."

  They both feigned surprise when Luis and Alfredo came stumbling over, wearing blackened T-shirts and dragging a one-legged Scooby-Doo.

  Luis waved with a sippy cup. "Hola. Hey, you broken car guys. Hallo. Disaster has struck our vacation, and Scooby saved our lives. They both collapsed against the Cooper, dropping their packages and breathing hard.

  Tom blurted, "Uh, we'd just gotten here when we heard the blast and then the fire trucks. So someone tried to steal your car, eh?" Mark elbowed him hard. Tom flinched.

  Alfredo and Luis stared wide-eyed at Tom and Mark. Alfredo said, "How did you know? The fireman just told us this."

  Tom opened his mouth and Mark stomped on his foot. As Tom inhaled, Mark stepped forward and put an arm around Alfredo. "We heard people talking as they passed by us. Is it true a man tried to break in and got blown up?"

  Tom rubbed his sore foot on the back of his other leg. "Heck of a security system they have on those rentals these days."

  Luis and Alfredo blinked.

  Mark threw an arm around Tom's neck and squeezed. Hard. "My brother, he is always joking. Even in the time of a crisis. Ha ha. Well, we have been shopping as you can see." He indicated the shopping bags in the back seat. "But we are finished now. If you would like a lift back to White Bass Lake, we would be pleased to help you out."

  The brothers both smiled. Luis wiped a tear from his eye. "Oh, thank you, Senór. We would like that very much. We would normally not impose, but we are in dire need. We only need to tell the police and call Evo, our friend."

  "Police?"

  "Yes, they were going to contact our friends in White Bass Lake to come and pick us up, but if you are going that way, it would be most convenient."

  Mark wiped at the sweat that had popped out on his brow. "Oh, sure. Go ahead. We'll load your stuff so we can leave right away."

  "Thank you both. We will return in a moment."

  Tom held up the one legged Scooby-Doo. "Do you want to keep the casualty of war here?"

  Luis hit Mark on the shoulder. "Hah-ha. Casualty of war. You guys kill me." He and Alfredo walked to the squad car.

  Mark stared after them and said under his breath, "You have no idea, amigo." they stuffed the dog in the car, and minutes later, bundled Luis and Alfredo in after, and sped off toward Wisconsin.

  15

  I walked into Fred's kitchen the next morning to find Evo staring at a cup of coffee. I leaned against the sink and folded my arms across my chest. "Wishing it was brandy?"

  His head snapped up. "Huh? I'm sorry, you said brandy? At nine o'clock in the morning? I think not, thank you very much. Do you drink this early in the morning up here?"

  "Don't put it past a cheesehead, Evo. Some folks put beer in their cornflakes up here." At his horrified expression I relented. "I'm just kidding about the brandy, you look very preoccupied."

  He rubbed the back of his neck. "I did notice wherever we go someone is drinking brandy in something else. Is that normal up here too?"

  "We are known as The Dairy State, but we could be called The Brandy State, The Beer State, or just The State of Inebriation. Some folks just drink a lot."

  "So I gathered. I was thinking of Luis and Alfredo. I dragged them up here and they almost got blown up yesterday. I'm not much for coincidence, but I see no motive to hurt them. What's your take?"

  "The police are investigating. I do find it interesting that their two new friends
just happened to be there when the Suzuki blew up."

  "Yes. It seems curious to me that the car would explode for any reason."

  "Sounds more like a car bomb than a curious coincidence to me, Evo."

  "Luis explained that they invited them, but the new friends had business to attend to in the morning hours, and went down later in the day. I'm more troubled about my hasty decision to bring Luis and Alfredo to Wisconsin."

  "If they're in any kind of danger, they're much safer here with us, than alone in Lima, don't you think?"

  "Yes, I know you're right. Another thought I just had was that they are on a vacation of sorts and I never thought about money. I even told them they were on vacation, so they don't expect to be paid. Their pride will keep them from accepting money from me."

  "Then tell them it is a working vacation. If you want, we can have them do some running or odd jobs, and you can pay them."

  "Great idea, but I don't have a local bank account."

  I told Evo it was just as easy for him to give me the money and I would write a check that the Gallegos brothers could cash at the local bank. Evo was thrilled and we worked out the details.

  Later, Evo handed Luis and Alfredo each a check and told them they were still on the payroll, even in America. The brothers could not believe what luck had befallen them. They clutched their checks in both hands. After many thanks they scuttled out the door and piled into their newly rented car. This time they'd rented a Jeep. They zoomed out onto the street and headed for downtown.

  I watched as an unfamiliar car followed them down the street and a funny feeling tickled the back of my neck. I caught Evo by the arm, pointed to the dented red Cooper and asked, "Hey, do you recognize those guys?"

  Evo squinted after the small red car. "No, why do you ask?"

  "They don't look familiar, but that Cooper does," and almost to myself, "Where have I seen that car before?"

  Fred looked up from the couch. "Car? What car?"

  Sam walked into the room brushing her hair. She stopped next to Evo and I. "Are we looking for a car? Do you mean that little red one?"