Back on Solid Ground (11 page)

Jason was in
the kitchen fixing a sandwich when the brothers came in. 

“You find
anything?” Jason asked.

“No,” said
Niki.  “I’m satisfied there’s no one on the perimeter.  Did the recording have
anything on it?”

“Nothing,”
said Jason.  “And the house is clean.”

“Where’s
Carlos?” Eli asked.

“He’s back
down there at the boathouse doing his voodoo shit or something.  He came up
here and got a drink then went right back down there.”

“What about
Stacy?” Eli asked.

“I guess
she’s still asleep.  I haven’t heard from her or Consuela,” said Jason.

Niki was butchering
what was left of the roast and Eli was making sandwiches.  Jason grabbed three
beers out of the refrigerator and handed them out.

“I guess I
should go relieve Consuela,” Niki said, without enthusiasm.  “Make an extra
sandwich and I’ll give one to Consuela,” he said, taking both sandwiches Eli
had just finished making and a beer, and heading upstairs.

It was dark
outside when Stacy woke to the sound of something crawling on the blinds.  She
wasn’t sure if she had dreamed the noise, so she sat up in bed and listened. 
There
it was again.
 It sounded like a roach. 

Stacy hated
roaches. Back in college, Stacy’s roommate had one crawl into her ear when she
was sleeping and they had to go to the emergency room to get it out.  When the
nurse stuck a pair of tweezers into her roommate’s ear and pulled out a roach
leg, it had scarred Stacy for life.  She would rather contend with a snake then
a roach any day.    Stacy pulled her hair over her ear and tried to go back to
sleep, but she was too freaked out.  She kept feeling like bugs were crawling
all over her.  There was no way she could fall back asleep, so she lay there
listening for any noise, but the room was silent. 

Some time
later, it happened again.  She sat up in bed and listened.  Sure enough, 
little legs crawling on the blinds. 
It’s just a little bug
, Stacy told
herself. 
Get some backbone. 
She pulled the covers up to her chin and
over her ear and tried to go back to sleep.  She finally managed to doze off
when another noise woke her up, but it was not the bug crawling on the blinds –
it was now flying around her room. 
That’s not a roach
.  It sounded like
a miniature airplane, buzzing, buzzing, buzzing, swooping all around the room.

Stacy pulled
the sheet up over her head and prayed that the thing wouldn’t dive bomb her. 
And then it stopped, only to start up again after about 30 seconds.  She needed
to get out of the room, but she was too scared to get out of bed.  Stacy was
getting ready to yell for Jason, when all of a sudden she heard buzz . . . buzz
. . .
thunk . . . plop
.  The little fucker flew into the fan and plopped
down on the bed.  Stacy bolted out of bed, screaming bloody murder, and ran to
the light switch. 

Niki was
asleep in the hall when he heard the blood curdling scream.  He jumped up and
busted through the door, pistol in hand, and slammed right into Stacy.  He
pushed her behind him to shield her from her attacker, while he scanned the
room with the gun.

“There’s a
bug in my bed!” Stacy exclaimed.

“A bug?” Niki
repeated, turning around to glare at her.  “You screamed like that because of a
bug
?”

“It was
flying around the room and hit the fan and landed on the bed,” she explained.

Niki shook
his head, then put the gun down on the dresser and they walked over to the bed. 
Stacy stood back while Niki moved the covers around searching for the bug. 

“I don’t see
anything,” he said, looking on the floor around the bed.

“I know it’s
there,” Stacy said adamantly.  She got a little closer and stretched her neck
to see if she could see it. 

Niki went
around to the other side of the bed and looked around.  “Here it is.  It’s just
a little beetle,” he said, checking it out. “I think it’s unconscious.”

Niki picked
up the bug and let it go out on the balcony.  He came back in the room and
Stacy was examining his gun. 

“Nice gun,”
she said.

Niki walked
across the room and took the gun away from her.  “I cannot believe that a
little beetle would elicit that kind of response from you,” he said, shaking
his head in disbelief. 

“It sounded a
lot bigger when it was flying around,” she said.

“I thought
someone was murdering you, the way you screamed,” Niki said.

“You came to save
me, didn’t you?” Stacy said, smiling.  He looked like an unmade bed – his hair
was messed up from sleeping and his shirt was all wrinkled. 
You are
downright adorable
, she thought. 

“Yes, I was
going to save you,” Niki admitted.  “Although I don’t know why.  I’ve never
taken so much abuse from anyone in my life.”

Stacy
couldn’t help but smile.  There was something very endearing about him, in
spite of the circumstances.  Maybe it was that Patty Hearst thing. “What time
is it anyway?”

Niki looked
at his watch.  “11:30.”

“No wonder
I’m hungry.  Let’s get something to eat.”

“Right now?”

“Well, yeah.”

They got downstairs
and found Eli and Jason out on the veranda.  The table was littered with beer
bottles and empty bags of chips.

“You’re
awake,” said Eli.  “And let me guess, you’re hungry.”

“Shut up,
Eli,” Stacy said grumpily.

“You wake up
on the wrong side of the bed?” he asked.

“A huge
jungle beetle chased me out of bed,” she stated.

“What?” Eli
looked at Niki.

“There was a
bug in her bed,” Niki said, rolling his eyes.   “Where’s Carlos?  Did he ever
come back from the boathouse?” 

“He came back
and got some stuff then went back down there,” said Jason. “Grab a beer and
pull up a chair,” he told Niki, pointing to the ice chest.

Niki opened a
beer and took a big, long swig.  He looked out over the ocean, “There’s a 
storm coming.”

“Yeah,” said
Jason.  “It’s supposed to be intense.”

“May I get an
escort to the kitchen, please?” Stacy said, frustrated by her lack of freedom.
“Or if I promise not to run, I could just go on my own,” she suggested.

“Your turn,
Eli,” said Niki. 

Eli groaned. 
“I was right wasn’t I, you are hungry again,” he said, dragging himself up out
of his chair at a snail’s pace. 

“Come on!”
Stacy said impatiently, pulling Eli by the arm. 

Eli made
himself dead weight.  “No, don’t let her take me!”

Stacy started
laughing.  She tried to pull him towards the kitchen, but she couldn’t budge
him, so she got behind him and pushed him across the veranda, while he
continued his protest.  She was laughing and she stopped, holding her side. 

“It hurts to
laugh,” she said.

“Come on. 
Let’s get some food,” Eli said, pushing Stacy in front of him and following her
into the kitchen.

Jason and
Niki had been watching the two harass each other and both were thinking the
same thing. 

“We’ve got a
problem.” said Jason.

“Yeah, we
do,” Niki agreed.

“What are we
going to do?” Jason asked.

“I don’t
know,” said Niki. 

The first
thing Carlos did was walk through the boathouse looking for any kind of
physical evidence left by the person or persons who planted the bomb.  He
combed the place from top to bottom but all he found was a small piece of tape
that he assumed was off of what was used to tie the dynamite together.  He
meditated inside the boathouse for several hours then went up to the house and
returned with his goodie bag. 

When the moon
was in just the right position, Carlos made a circle with stones on the beach
beside the boathouse and drew two lines in the sand, dividing the circle in quadrants. 
He anointed one black candle and one white candle with oil, while he
concentrated on finding the person who had planted the bomb.  He placed the
white candle in the southern quadrant and covered it with a glass shield and
placed the black candle in the northern quadrant and covered it with a shield. 
Next, Carlos took the broken lock from the boathouse and dusted it with salt,
then laid it in the eastern quadrant, together with several scraps from the
boat that had washed ashore, the piece of tape he found in the boathouse, and
some silver charms he took from his bag.  He dug a hole in the last quadrant and
poured in olive oil and seawater, and sprinkled a mixture of herbs in the
liquid, then he lit the candles and sat beside the circle meditating and
chanting.   It was well after dark when Carlos made it back to the villa and
joined Niki and Jason on the veranda. 

“What’d you
find?” Jason asked.

“It was a
diver that planted the bomb.  That’s why there was nothing on the camera and
why none of the alarms were tripped.  There were two men, but only one came
ashore.  And it definitely has to do with Stacy, but I don’t know if our client
was behind it or not.” 

Niki could
tell there was more.  “What else?”

“We’ve got a
rat,” Carlos said.  “And I’m almost positive it’s one of our supply guys.”

“Any chance
it could be Consuela?” Jason asked.

“No.  It’s
definitely a man,” Carlos said. 

“We’ve got
some house cleaning to do,” Niki said.

“I’ll take
care of it,” Jason volunteered. 

The sun had
been up for hours when Stacy finally woke up.  She rolled over in bed and tried
to stretch but she was too sore.  Every muscle in her body ached.  She got up
and brushed her teeth and went out in the hall.

“Finally!”
said Eli.

“Good morning
to you too,” said Stacy.

“I’m
surprised you could go that long without eating,” Eli said sarcastically. 

“Why are you
so grumpy this morning?”

“Oh, is it
still morning?” he said, looking at his watch.

“You’re just
grumpy because you’re hungry,” she said, rumpling his hair.

Eli batted
her hand away and dragged himself out of the chair and they made their way
downstairs.   

“What’s the
matter with you?  You’re walking like my grandmother,” Eli said.

“I’m sore all
over,” Stacy told him.

Niki, Jason
and Carlos were gathered around a television set, watching the morning news. 

There has
been a major development in Thursday’s bank robbery and shooting in San Antonio, Texas that left one man wounded and a young woman taken hostage, said the
perfectly groomed anchorman.

“Quiet!”
Carlos said, and they all stopped talking to hear the story. 

The
suburban that the gunmen used in the getaway was found wrecked and burned,
after colliding with a freight train approximately 30 miles south of San Antonio earlier this morning. The gunmen and their hostage, Stacy Trent, are all
presumed dead. The wreckage and charred remains of the casualties were
scattered hundreds of feet from the point of impact.  Some jewelry and personal
belongings taken from bank customers in Thursday’s robbery were found among the
wreckage.

“What the
hell?” said Niki, getting to his feet.  He turned to Carlos with an uneasy
look.

“I don’t
know,” said Carlos, shaking his head, still concentrating on the screen.   

Stacy and Eli
walked into the room just as the news of their death was being broadcast. 
Stacy’s mouth dropped as she stood fixed in place, watching as the report
continued. 

Ms. Trent had
recently taken over as President of the family-owned multi-million dollar
marketing and advertising company, after her mother was killed in a boating
accident in May, said the anchor.

The camera
cut to a shot of a distraught man with gray hair and glasses: 
It’s just so
hard to believe,
the man said, the caption on the screen identifying him as
Stacy Trent’s father.
  We just spoke on the phone Thursday morning.  We were
very close, especially after her mother’s tragic accident,
he said,
breaking down
.
   The camera remained fixed on the man for a few seconds,
before cutting back to the anchor in the studio. 

Ms. Trent would have been 29 years old
tomorrow. Funeral services are pending.

“Why is he saying
that?” Stacy said to herself.  Niki, Carlos and Jason spun around.  Stacy
looked dazed, her eyes fixed on the television.   She felt for the chair behind
her and sat down.  The anchor had gone on to the next story.  Stacy clicked
from one thought to another, fitting puzzle pieces together in her mind.   She
was zoning, unaware of anything going on around her, but she was thinking with
perfect clarity.    

“Stacy,” Niki
was saying. 

She snapped
out of her trance, and realized that someone was talking to her. “What?”  she
said, visibly shaken. 

“I asked if
you were okay,” said Niki.  “You don’t look so good.”  He didn’t know how much
of the report she had seen.

“It was my
father, wasn’t it?” she said, not as a question, but as confirmation of
something she already knew.

“On TV?  Yeah,”
Niki said.

“No.  It was
my father that hired you to kidnap me,” she said, getting progressively more agitated.

“What?”  Niki
was floored.  He could tell Stacy was about to lose it, and he wasn’t sure how
to diffuse the situation.

Stacy put her
fingers to her temples and pressed hard, trying to release the pounding that
was building up in her head.  It was without question the ultimate betrayal. 

Niki moved
over to Stacy’s chair and got down on his knee so that he was eye level with
her.  “What are you talking about?” Niki asked her. “Talk to me.” 

“My father
paid you to kidnap me,” she said, bursting into tears.  “Didn’t he?” she said
louder, demanding an answer.