Eggs Benedict Arnold (31 page)

“
You ever see a crank shaft fit inside a business-size en
velope?
”
Toni snapped.

“
Can
’
t say
’
s I have,
”
said Suzanne.

“
So now we gotta follow him,
”
said Toni.
“
See what the
deal is. See if Junior
’
s gonna run back to some lab that
’
s pumping out crystal meth.
”

“
You
’
re talking about investigating,
”
pointed out Suzanne.
“
We stuck our noses in somebody else
’
s business last night and look where it got us.
”

“
Suzanne . . . please!
”
There was real panic in Toni
’
s eyes.

“
Okay, okay.
”
Suzanne couldn
’
t bear to see Toni in such
turmoil.

They tossed down a five-dollar tip, sped along the dingy
hallway that led past the restrooms, then slipped out the back door. As they were climbing into Toni
’
s car, Junior rumbled past them.

“
There!
”
exclaimed Suzanne, pointing.
“
He
’
s pulling out onto the road.
”

Toni gunned the engine and her tires spit gravel.

“
Easy,
”
warned Suzanne.
“
We don
’
t want to tip him off.
”

“
I
’
ll hang back,
”
promised Toni.

Suzanne glanced at her friend. Toni looked determined,
but sad. As though Junior, who
’
d betrayed her time and again, had finally managed to drive a stake through her
heart. On the other hand, Toni had resolved to save Junior
from himself or whatever drug-dealing loonies he was involved with. So she must still have feelings for him. Su
zanne shook her head. Toni was between a rock and a hard
place without a cushion to sit on.

They spun down County Road 18, hanging back, but
always keeping Junior
’
s taillights in view.

When they came to a series of S-curves, Suzanne said,
“
Now drop back a little more. We don
’
t want Junior to catch us in his rearview mirror.
”

“
I will, I will,
”
said Toni, following him through the turns. Then they were on the straightaway again.

“
I wonder where he
’
s going?
”
asked Suzanne. This part
of the county was hilly and slightly woodsy, populated
mostly by cattle ranches and dairy farms. Then again, most
drug operations weren
’
t set up in the heart of town, right
next to the post office for ease of shipping.

“
He
’
s turning,
”
said Toni, in a tight voice. She slowed
way down and they both watched the sweep of headlights
and flash of taillights as Junior hung a left turn.

“
If we follow him through that turn,
”
said Toni, he
’
s gonna catch on sooner or later that he
’
s being tailed. He
’
s not
blind.
”

“
Then do your flying thing,
”
prompted Suzanne.

“
Are you serious?
”
asked Toni as they turned onto the gravel road behind him. Really?
”

“
Do it carefully,
”
said Suzanne.

Toni punched out the lights.
“
Just pray we don
’
t hit a deer or skid on a loose patch of gravel.
”

They didn
’
t. In fact the road was fairly straight and Ju
nior
’
s taillights, a quarter mile ahead, served as a solid bea
con to guide their way.

Then the road twisted through a grove of trees and dipped across a narrow, single-lane bridge, the boards echoing loosely as they crossed.

“
Lost him,
”
said Toni, wrinkling her nose.

“
Where
’
d he go?
”
wondered Suzanne, peering into the night.

Toni suddenly hit her brakes, snapping their heads and
causing Suzanne to flail out and grab hold of the dashboard.
“
There he is!
”
she whispered.

Suzanne followed Toni
’
s gaze out the driver
’
s side
window. It took a few moments, but finally her eyes grew
accustomed to the darkness and she could see a glint of something
—Junior
’
s car—half hidden behind a small, ramshackle building. To the left of Junior
’
s car stood an
old farmhouse where a few lights glowed. Behind it was a
large, hip-roofed barn.

“
Now what?
”
asked Suzanne.

“
Now we sit and wait,
”
said Toni. Slowly, quietly, she
backed her car down a small incline and into a grove of poplars. Branches scratched against car doors and windows, sounding spookily like fingernails.

“
What are we waiting for?
”
asked Suzanne. She was
shivering slightly, now that Toni had turned the heater off.

“
Junior,
”
was Toni
’
s single terse word.

They sat there for five minutes. Then their wait stretched
into ten. When Suzanne was about to suggest the futility of
this night watch, Junior surprised them by suddenly reap
pearing as a shadow. Hastily crossing the yard, Junior slith
ered into his car, fired up the engine, and rocketed away fast.

“
Should we follow him?
”
asked Suzanne.

“
No!
”
hissed Toni.
“
We gotta see if this place really is a meth lab!
”

“
How will we know that?
”
asked Suzanne, curious and
leery at the same time.

“
I dunno,
”
said Toni.
“
Maybe we can peek in the windows or something.
”

“
Do you actually know what a meth lab looks like?
”
Suzanne asked.

Toni thought for a moment.
“
Maybe like bubbling bea
kers full of green goop with steam rising up?
”

“
You know what?
”
said Suzanne.
“
You
’
ve been watching
too many old Frankenstein movies on the late-night crea
ture feature. You
’
ve developed a William Castle fixation.
”

“
The only scary movie I watched lately was
Saw
”
said
Toni.
“
And it scared me to death.
”

They climbed from the car and tiptoed quietly across
the road, easing their way toward the farm house. Halfway
there, a dog, an aging black Labrador, padded up to greet them.

“
Hey, baby,
”
whispered Suzanne.
“
You
’
re not going to
bark, are you?
”

The dog gave a desultory tail wag in response to her voice.

“
Seems like a sweet old mutt,
”
said Toni.
“
Thank good
ness he
’
s not exactly your crackerjack guard dog.
”

“
If Baxter was here, he
’
d be barking his head off,
”
said
Suzanne. She dug into her handbag and pulled out a plastic
bag filled with jerky treats.

“
You keep dog treats in your purse?
”

“
At all times,
”
said Suzanne.
“
It
’
s the only bargaining chip I have with creatures of the canine persuasion. The only thing that stands between reason and chaos.
”

She handed the jerky to the dog, who accepted it with
a certain gravity. Suzanne gave him another. She liked the dignified old fellow.
“
Now lie down and be cool,
”
she told
him.

They slid behind a clump of dried lilac bushes. Not much
cover, but better than nothing. Then eased their way gently
up to the back of the house where two windows glowed an
eerie green.

“
No way,
”
said Toni in a low voice. Lights were obvi
ously on inside, but their view was blocked by window shades pulled snuggly down.

Suzanne tried peeking in from the side, but no luck. Just
a sliver of... nothing.

Toni made a forward motion with her hand. Got to get closer.

Suzanne inhaled sharply. This was not a promising sce
nario. Two women, out in the middle of nowhere, playing
a dangerous game of Peeping Tom. What
’
s wrong with this
picture?

But Toni was moving forward aggressively. Along the length of the house, toward the front porch. She hesitated,
then put one foot on the porch step, then another. Waved for
Suzanne to follow.

Against her better judgment, Suzanne did. Climbed up
three steps, crossed a broad porch badly in need of paint, and
joined Toni at a window that was pushed up a few inches.
A tattered window shade, the color of old parchment, fluttered in the breeze. Shadows moved back and forth behind
that shade. Soft voices formed indistinct words.

Gripping the window ledge, Toni put her face flat against
the house, and tried to peer in.

“
Anything?
”
Suzanne whispered.

Toni put a hand up to silence her, twisted her body
slightly, moved her feet to get a slightly better angle,
and ... creak!

The offending board underfoot sounded like a rifle shot
in the still of
the
night.

One of Toni
’
s hands flew to her mout
h
, then she gazed
at Suzanne with wild eyes.
“
Oh shiznit!
”
she cried.
‘
They
heard us!
”

Chapter eighteen

“
Run!
”
Suzanne cried hoarsely, as she grabbed Toni
’
s arm
and gave a rough jerk.