Gina Cresse - Devonie Lace 04 - A Deadly Change of Power

by Gina Cresse

  “Each? And there’s how many?”

  “Ten. Ten thousand dollars—cash. They don’t take traveler’s checks and she said they definitely don’t take credit cards. Surprise, surprise.”

  I stared at the figure on the paper. “We don’t have ten thousand dollars. Do we?”

  Craig shook his head. “Not that we could get our hands on by tomorrow morning.”

  Craig started calling in favors from other doctors in order to find someone to cover for him at the hospital until we could return. I told him I could go by myself. He scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’m gonna send my wife to a Mexican jail with ten-thousand dollars in cash by herself. Think again.” I was relieved he was insistent. I didn’t want to go by myself.

  I rang Uncle Doug’s doorbell at seven in the morning. He answered the door in his robe, with a glass of orange juice in one hand.

  “Let me guess. You want to borrow a cup of sugar?” he said, knowing full well that my requests for favors never amounted to anything so trivial.

  “Ten thousand dollars? Cash? What do I look like? The U.S. Mint?” Uncle Doug complained, stomping across the kitchen to retrieve a slice of toast.

  “Lance Oakhurst will pay you back, with interest, if you want. He’s good for it. The guy’s got a six-figure salary,” I told him.

  Uncle Doug sat down across from me and buttered his toast. “How do you get mixed up with these people? You seem to have a knack for finding trouble,” he complained.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t really important, Uncle Doug. Ronnie’s not safe. We’ve got to get her out of there,” I insisted.

  “Maybe that’s the safest place for her right now. Behind bars. Seems like the bad guys would want to avoid the jail.”

  Aunt Arlene glared at him.

  “What?” he whined in self defense.

  “You know what. The man will pay you back. You can’t let that poor girl sit in some Mexican jail,” Aunt Arlene scolded.

  “This isn’t fair. Two against one.”

  Aunt Arlene crossed her arms over her chest. She was not going to back down.

  “Okay. Okay,” Uncle Doug surrendered. “The bank doesn’t open until nine. Can I finish my breakfast in peace, please?”

  I smiled and hugged him. “Thank you, Uncle Doug. You’re the best.”

  I gave Aunt Arlene a hug and headed for the door. “Oh, one more thing,” I said, stopping in the doorway. “We’ll probably be gone a couple days. I’ll drop the puppy off when I come by to pick up the money.”

  “Puppy? Wait a minute—” Uncle Doug started.

  “That’ll be fine, honey,” Aunt Arlene said, smiling.

  Our plane touched down late that afternoon. We exchanged just enough cash to cover taxi fares and a couple of meals. We didn’t plan to stay in Mexico long.

  I was sure we would be killed no less than three times on the taxi ride to the jail. The driver sped down the narrow road with one hand on the wheel and the other arm draped over the back of the passenger seat. He spent most of the time turned around to talk to us. I think he was practicing his English. He didn’t get many fares who wanted to go to the jail. He was curious.

  I had two semesters of Spanish in high school, and all I can remember is how to count to ten and the days of the week. Craig knows just a little more than I do, but most of the phrases he uses are related to his work at the hospital. Where does it hurt? How long have you had this pain? Do you have insurance?

  We finally found a policeman who spoke more English than we did Spanish. When we told him we were there for Ronnie Oakhurst, he knew exactly where to take us. He led us to a tiny room with bare walls and a rickety table in the middle. Four unmatched, beat-up old chairs surrounded the table. We waited there for fifteen minutes before the policeman returned with another officer. They sat across from us and smiled.

  “You have something for us?” the new policeman asked.

  Craig removed a bundle of money from his jacket pocket and set it on the table.

  Their smiles faded. “American money?” one of them questioned.

  Craig nodded. “It would not have looked good for us to try to exchange this much money at the airport. You can exchange it easy enough.”

  They looked at each other, and then nodded with satisfaction. Their smiles returned.

  “Now. You have something for us?” I asked.

  We were reunited with Ronnie and the other nine prisoners. The bribe-taking policemen led us down a narrow corridor and through some sort of maintenance room. He opened a door that led outside, peered out to see that no one was around, then motioned for us to proceed through the door into the side alley. We scrambled through the door as quickly as we could, anxious to get as far away from the place as possible. Gary stopped short of the doorway, looking at the policeman. “My truck?”

  The policeman grinned. He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and handed them to Gary. He poked his head out the door. “Two blocks that way,” he said, pointing down the alley.

  “Gracias,” Gary said, then stepped through the exit.

  The policeman slammed the door and left the twelve of us standing in the alley, wondering what to do next.

  “Why’d they send us out this way?” I wondered out loud.

  Rick chuckled. “Because Officer Juan there doesn’t want the official bribe-takers to know he’s cutting in on their action. I think he’s starting his own enterprise. Pretty good take—ten grand.”

  “I’d say so,” Craig agreed.

  We slowly wandered out of the alley to the main street that ran along the front of the jail. The crew of The Dream Catcher caught a taxi back to the airport. They’d decided they’d let the owner of the boat deal with the Mexicans to get it back. They just wanted out of the country. Lance’s crewmembers had the same sentiments. Finally, Rick, Gary, Lance, Ronnie, Jake, Craig, and myself, were the only ones left standing in the dim light of a street lamp.

  “Well, heck. This has been fun,” Gary said. “My truck’s parked two blocks that way. Why don’t we all go grab a bite to eat? Then, I’ll give you folks a ride to the airport.”

  I grimaced. “Eat?” I said, recalling the last time I’d had a meal in Mexico. I swore I never would again.

  “You’ll be fine. Just don’t drink the water,” Rick assured me. “That’s where you get into trouble. No ice, either.”

  Gary took a step off the curb and the rest of us started to follow, when it happened. The explosion was enormous. The force of the blast sent us flying through the air. I remember landing hard on my side and rolling the rest of the way across the street, finally stopping only because I hit the curb.

  I raised my head to see the jail engulfed in flames. The heat nearly scorched my face. I looked around at the others. “What happened?” I moaned.

  Craig rose to his feet and took my arm. “Are you okay?” he asked, helping me to my feet.

  “I think so. How about you?”

  “So far, so good. How about the rest of you guys?”

  Slowly, everyone managed to stagger to their feet and inspect their limbs. Nothing appeared to be broken.

  “Come on. We better get out of here, quick,” Gary said, herding us toward his truck.

  We ran to the pickup and piled inside. Gary locked the doors and started the engine.

  “What happened back there?” Lance asked, looking out the window at the flames shooting into the sky.

  Rick cranked his head around to get a better look at the fire. “Looks like someone found out Ronnie was a guest in the jail. You guys sure you want to get on a plane with her?”

  Chapter Twelve

  The decision was unanimous to ride back to the States with Rick and Gary rather than risk an air disaster with Ronnie on board. We drove all night to get as far from Cabo as possible. By mid-morning, the sound of our stomachs growling was almost as loud as the V-eight engine in Gary’s truck. We stopped in a small village with dirt streets and searched for a place to eat.

/>   Over breakfast, Gary recounted the events of the past few days that eventually landed them all in jail. Apparently, Lance’s group decided to come ashore their first night in town to have a few beers. They found a little bar not far from the waterfront, and started ordering rounds. By the end of the night, there were a hundred and fifty empty beer bottles stacked on their table. Sometime during the evening, they’d gotten into a debate about which was faster—a Mexican taxi or a Mexican police car.”

  I cringed and looked at Lance. “You didn’t.”

  He gave me a guilty smile and nodded.

  Rick laughed. “These guys are crazier than we are—and we’ve done some pretty crazy things. But we never got drunk and stole two cars in Mexico, one of which was a police car, and raced them on the beach at midnight.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Craig marveled.

  “No kidding. They did it. That’s how they landed in jail,” Gary said.

  Something still troubled me. “But why was The Dream Catcher adrift?” I asked.

  Lance appeared to want to slide under the table. “No one ever taught me how to tie a proper knot,” he confessed.

  Jake dropped his fork on his plate. “You mean they trusted you to tie up that…that very expensive boat? Do you have any experience at all?”

  Lance shook his head. “It was just the first of many poor decisions made that night. I can’t say any more than that.”

  I felt sorry for Lance. I decided to get him out of the spotlight. I turned my attention to Gary. “What about you? How’d you get arrested?” I asked.

  “We got into town and found The Dream Catcher first thing. Only problem was the police had a guard on it. We wanted to look around—you know, see if there were any clues on board about where Lance might be,” Gary explained.

  “Anyhow, we waited until the guard dozed off, then we snuck on board. Ran right into a little party the…what would you call him? Chief of police? Anyhow, he and his girlfriend were having a good time. He greeted us with a machine gun aimed at our faces. Next thing we knew, we were in jail, and Lance and his buddies were our cellmates,” Rick continued.

  “That explains your trip to the jail,” Craig said. Then he looked at Ronnie. “But you were supposed to come bail them out. What happened?”

  Rick shook his head. “She’s crazier that the rest of them put together.”

  “I am not,” Ronnie protested.

  “You show up with a half-dozen credit cards and you think they’re gonna let us out?” Rick sniped.

  “Everyone takes credit cards these days,” Ronnie defended.

  “Not for bribes, honey,” Gary said.

  “I didn’t know it was a bribe. I thought it was a fine.”

  I waved a white napkin over the table. “Okay. Okay. Truce. That shouldn’t have landed her in jail,” I said.

  Rick rolled his eyes. “No, but when the Mexicans laughed at her credit cards and tried to toss her out, little Miss Kung Fu there decided to do her Bruce Lee impression. Took six policemen to finally get her caught and locked up. They took Jake, too.”

  Gary smiled and pointed at Ronnie. “She’s good. I could use her in that martial arts flick we’ve got coming up.”

  Ronnie slipped two inches in her seat. She smiled, but the embarrassment showed on her face.

  “She rolled pretty good last night when that bomb went off, too. Did you see her? As good as that little stunt gal we worked with on the last film. I just have to get her in the union,” Gary continued.

  Rick glared at him over his glass of milk. “She won’t take direction from you. She won’t take direction from anyone.”

  Lance laughed. “You got that right. Must be all that red hair.”

  Jake noticed Ronnie’s silence and leaned over to her. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “I’m fine. Can we go now? I just want to get out of this country.”

  I raised my hand to catch Lance’s attention. “Wait. The other question that still hasn’t been answered is why Ronnie wasn’t told about the change in the departure time from Long Beach?”

  Lance shot me a puzzled look. “No one told her?”

  Ronnie shook her head. “Never heard a word,” she said.

  Lance shrugged his shoulders and met everyone’s stares with eyebrows raised in a motion of self defense. “A guy from the sponsor’s headquarters called all of us the night before to let us know the time had changed. He told me he’d already talked to Ronnie, so I didn’t bother to call her. I knew she’d halfway talked herself out of going on the trip. That’s why I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t show up.”

  “Who called you?” I asked.

  Lance looked at Jake. “I don’t remember the guy’s name, but you should know him. He’s from World Motors,” Lance said.

  All our eyes turned to Jake. He assumed the self-defense posture that only moments before had been on Lance’s shoulders. “Don’t look at me,” he defended. “Just because the guy said he was from World Motors doesn’t mean they’re the ones behind all this. It was probably one of those imposters from the other night—you know, Hollers or Pianalto.”

  Gary nodded in agreement. “Probably right. No use pointing fingers amongst ourselves. That’ll only make things worse.”

  Jake relaxed and pushed his chair from the table. “Good. I vote we get out of here.”

  We all followed Jake’s lead and got up from the table. Jake paid the bill and we headed out the door. The seven of us crammed into the truck and braced ourselves for the long drive.

  “If Rick’s theory is right, then how’d they know Ronnie was in the jail?” I asked.

  “That’s easy,” Rick said. “She called you, didn’t she?”

  Craig nodded. “Yeah?”

  “Did she say where she was over the phone?” Gary continued.

  “You mean our phones are bugged?” I said.

  “Could be,” Rick said. “But they don’t have to actually bug your phones to listen to your conversations. Cell phone conversations can be monitored remotely, or they can set themselves up to look like telephone repairmen, up on a pole near your house.”

  Gary continued to check his side mirrors. I assumed he just wanted to make sure the trailer was okay, but he seemed nervous. I wondered if he was worried about someone following us. I started to watch the mirrors, too.

  “One thing’s for sure. Whoever is doing this has unlimited resources. I don’t know how you’re ever gonna beat them,” Rick said.

  “It’d help if we knew exactly who we were up against,” Gary said.

  “It’s the oil companies. It’s got to be,” Ronnie concluded.

  “Oh, that’s a little bigger than a bread box. I think we have to narrow it down a bit. If we drew a diagram of the involved parties, we’d probably see oil companies at the top of the page, but we need to start at the bottom. We need to get our hands on the guy who pulls the trigger,” Gary said.

  In all the excitement of the past twenty-four hours, I’d almost forgotten about the information I’d uncovered with my hacking tour of the oil company computers.

  “I think we may have a clue there,” I offered.

  “How so?” Rick asked.

  “Are you guys still on the case?” I asked.

  Gary frowned. “We have to be on the set in two days for that picture we told you about. I’m the stunt coordinator.”

  “You need to be there, but you won’t need me for a couple days,” Rick offered.

  Gary nodded. “That’s right. We could start with the bar-brawl scene first. Save the car scenes for later in the week.”

  Rick turned to face me. “What’s the clue you think you have?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  By the time we reached the border, we were exhausted. We crossed without incident. We concluded that whoever had blown up the Mexican jail assumed they’d eliminated Ronnie for good. Since our release was “unofficial,” and the policemen who’d let us go were likely killed in the explosion, there was no way an
yone could know we’d escaped the blast. Even so, we agreed it would be a good idea to hide Ronnie somewhere safe. Rick and Gary had a place in mind. They said they could guarantee she’d be safe there.

  After making a quick stop by our house to touch bases with Uncle Doug and give him a check from Lance to repay the ten-thousand dollar loan, Gary dropped Rick, Craig, and myself off at the airport in San Diego. He took Ronnie, Jake, and Lance to his “safe place,” that even we couldn’t know about. That’s the reason the place is so safe, apparently. No one but Rick and Gary know about it. They don’t tell anyone, even people they trust.

  The three of us trudged into the airport terminal and to the ticket counter. We bought three tickets to Reno, Nevada. That’s the closest airport to Graeagle. Rick and Gary had come up with a plan that, hopefully, wouldn’t land us all back in jail again.

  We tried to sleep on the flight, but it was difficult. Reno greeted us with three inches of snow on the ground, and it was still falling. We rented a four-wheel-drive Blazer and headed west. Rick appointed himself the official driver. By the time we reached Hallelujah Junction, the snow was nearly a foot deep. Rick didn’t slow down.

  “I know you’re a stunt driver, but have you done much driving in snow?” I asked.

  Rick didn’t blink. “Grew up in it. My first car was a snowplow.”

  From the back seat, I glanced over to the front passenger seat and noticed Craig’s death-grip relax a bit on the door armrest.

  Rick took the turn onto Highway Seventy. I felt the Blazer slide sideways before he straightened it out. “I made sure we got a model with a roll bar. Wish we had helmets, though,” Rick admitted.

  Craig checked his seatbelt and grabbed the overhead handle.

  Rick smiled at him. “Just kidding. Don’t worry. I won’t roll it.”

  Craig returned his smile. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  The snow was two feet deep as we passed through Portola. The wipers were frantically trying to keep the windshield clear, but the blizzard conditions made it nearly impossible to see beyond the hood of the Blazer.