Hijack in Abstract (A Cherry Tucker Mystery) (20 page)

I thought about returning to Red’s kitchen to look for her keys, when I spotted a familiar BMW parked across the street.

“Shit.”

Twenty-Six

I watched the BMW for a good five minutes, or at least a long thirty seconds as I wasn’t wearing a watch, and again nothing happened. The parking lot grew busier as women juiced up on Todd’s splendiferous form left Red’s and the regulars who knew Todd and didn’t care to see his all-but-nothings arrived for the usual Friday night party. I needed to see who drove that silver hatchback. Calling the police would mean scaring the vehicle away, and danged if I would let this sonofabitch follow me around town and not know who he was.

The BMW had parked to watch Red’s from across the street. Behind the vehicle, a steep hillside led to a vacant lot and an abandoned building used by local high schoolers for practicing their spray painting skills. Red’s gravel parking lot, bare of trees and bushes, didn’t provide much cover. The sun hadn’t fully dropped either. On my left lay the old railroad tracks, marking Halo’s town limits. Here, the tracks ran in a depression created by a ditch that banked and grew into the hillside on the other side of the street. If I could get to the top of the hill, I could spy on the Beamer. The ditch wouldn’t hide much more than a rabbit on this side of the road, but following the tracks was my only chance to cross the road unseen.

Dropping the poster board at the side of the building, I darted toward the tracks and hunker-walked the shallow ditch, hoping the busy parking lot would keep attention focused on Red’s. At the street crossing, I squatted and waited for a minivan to cross the tracks to use as cover to scurry across the road unnoticed. The raised tracks and rutted road had a jarring effect on most chassis’s, so locals knew to ease over the crossing before accelerating into Halo where the potholes were filled with asphalt on a more regular basis. The minivan crept toward the tracks. I popped up from my squat, startled the driver into braking, and hurried across the road to drop into the deeper embankment.

There I waited while another minivan and an SUV left Red’s and bumped over the tracks. The embankment rose past my head. At the top was the abandoned, crumbling brick building once used for storage by the railroad, currently decorated with graffiti tagging and crude penis drawings.

Flipping my satchel onto my back, I climbed up the hill on hands and knees. I gladdened in my effort to dress in jeans and boots, although the tube top hadn’t been so smart. It had worked its way toward my navel by the time I reached the top of the hill. I reached under my shirt to yank it up, knocking off beads in the process.

I hurried toward the vandalized building and peered around the side. The BMW was parked below me. From this vantage point, I had a bird’s eye view which did me no good. The sun roof appeared as a dark rectangle. I dropped to the ground, Army man style, and wormed my way hand-over-hand to the edge of the hill.

Across the street, more vehicles pulled into Red’s. A hefty engine growled and a yellow, convertible Mustang with a GAPCH license plate charged down the street toward the bar. I froze. The tires sprayed gravel as Shawna took a tight corner into Red’s. I assumed she had heard about the Todd extravaganza going on inside. She revved through the lot, forcing a cowboy to back into his tailgate, and stopped before Red’s front door.

Hopping out of the car, she turned to cast a caustic eye on the man she almost hit, then trailed her eyes over the parking lot. Her automatic money-seeking sights trained on the BMW. She cocked her head, and I imagined an android read-out blipping the model, make, and market value of the Beamer in her brain. Her face lost its mad-as-hell look and grew puzzled. I held my breath and let it out as her eyes left the BMW, traveled up the hill, and stuck on my face hovering Wizard of Oz-like above the hatchback.

My cover blown, I didn’t know what else to do but smile. Shawna shrieked and pointed. The cowboy turned and looked. The car engine spurted to a start below me. I thought but didn’t say a few expletives and started my hand-over-hand backwards crawl. Shawna darted across the parking lot, screaming my name and all the things she’d like to do to me. Max’s words about “danger” and “retreat” popped into my mind as I scrambled through the weeds.

Taking his advice, I jumped to my feet and ran.

I gunned Todd’s Civic through town, swerving on to side streets toward the county highway to confuse the BMW. I had run home, discarded my ruined chiffon blouse, grabbed Todd’s keys, and headed out the door. Once again, my house had been full of young bachelors enjoying a self-proclaimed “happy hour” on my porch. They had moved the dead pheasant couch outside where they lounged with their feet on the rails and coolers at their sides. I hadn’t stopped to kick them out. I had hoped the BMW didn’t know where I lived, and I wasn’t going to stick around for it to find me.

Once out of town, I made straight for Max’s Nouveau Antebellum estate. Amid Shawna’s screaming about my moral ruin were boasts of Max’s financial support of her. He had been my last hope in proving the witch hunt false. I needed confirmation if I really indeed should “abandon hope of living in Halo.”

According to Shawna, I did.

At this point, faith in my local art business’s success had already snuck out the back door. I might have to make a career of the graveyard shift at the SipNZip. I’d live. But if I were run out of Halo, who would check on the Coderres? I needed to stick around to keep up the momentum of helping that family. Finding a way for Miss Gladys to care properly for Jerell and breaking the family pattern of drugs and robbery seemed paramount.

With so many thoughts about stalkers, Shawna, and the Coderres circling my brain, I passed the black pickup parked down the street from Max’s drive without thinking.

I had pulled the Civic’s grill before Max’s closed gate, ready to hop out and speak to his intercom, when I did my double take. I shoved the gear shifter into reverse, backed into the road, and parked across the street from the truck. A cab light flared. I hopped from Todd’s hatchback and strode across the road to the jacked-up pickup.

Luke rolled down his window. “What are you doing here?”

“I have business to discuss with Mr. Max. What about you? This looks like a stake out.”

“Get in,” Luke rolled up his window.

I circled the truck and climbed in through the passenger door. “This is the second time I’ve found you hanging around Mr. Max. What’s going on?”

“I could say the same to you.”

We scrutinized each other for a long moment. Luke cut off the overhead light, breaking the tension.

“Why are you watching his house?” I said. “Shouldn’t you be out looking for Tyrone’s and the Dixie Cake truck driver’s killer?”

“The hijacking is bigger than that. And don’t ask me for details because that’s all I’m telling you.”

“Bigger than what? Are there more dead people?”

“Lord, I hope not.” Luke rested his head on the seatback.

I ticked off points on my fingers. “Let me see if I can figure this out. You’ve got a hijacking where there’s normally no hijacking. The driver was shot, but he’s the wrong driver. You have a witness to the shooting, who is later killed. It doesn’t sound that complicated to me. But you’re watching Max Avtaikin’s house.”

“Yep.”

“Did you know I was coming here?”

Luke sat up. “Why would I know you were coming here?”

“I told you Mr. Max was going to help me absolve my name in the community by financing a show. You were clear about not supporting that decision. And seemed pretty irate to find us together under that magnolia tree.”

Luke folded his arms. “Your little game of Frogger had me irate.”

“It didn’t bother you at all to see Max’s arms around me?”

I felt that statement detonate and sensed the sizzle of Luke’s blood beginning to steam.

I backed off. “I’ve been bringing food to the Coderres. Got them a funeral, too. Do you think the M.E. will release the body soon? I imagine Miss Gladys is getting anxious to have Tyrone buried. I know she’s anxious to have his killer caught so she can proceed with suing the perp.”

“About that,” Luke’s tension ran out, and he unfolded his arms to slip one across the back of the seat. He took my hand. “I have some news. Family and Child Services visited the Coderres this afternoon. Did Miss Gladys tell you?”

“No.” I blinked, feeling a sting behind my eyes. “I just saw them a few hours ago. Nik and I dropped off a pizza.”

“Nik?”

I began to explain my chauffeur when Luke interrupted me.

“Never mind that for now.” Luke stroked his thumb across the back of my hand. “Miss Gladys and Jerell already had the visit by that time. They probably didn’t want to upset you.”

“Why would I be upset?” I sniffed and swiped at my nose with my shoulder. “I’m sure if they had some news they would have told me. The little man was doing a good job of protecting his great gam. Used his BB gun to force Nik to stay in the car while I brought in the pizza. Their house was a disaster. I said I’d come over tomorrow to clean it up.”

“Sugar, that’s real sweet of you.”

I yanked my hand from his, scrubbed a weepy eye, and raised my chin. “What are you trying to tell me? Just say it.”

“Jerell’s been taken to a foster home.”

“What?” Hot tears bubbled and clouded my vision. I swept them away and pounded the seat with a fist. “That’s not right. He’s got his great-grandma. I’m checking on them every day. Did they tell you that? I’m working on finding them another place to live.”

“You take everything to heart. I love that about you, but you can’t help everyone.”

“I thought you cared, Luke. I saw you with Jerell. You were so sweet with him. You can’t let this happen.” I banged on his arm, and he captured my hand to bring it to his lips, but I yanked it away.

“Honey, it’s for the best. Sweetgum isn’t safe. Think about Jerell’s future if he stays there.”

“He wasn’t going to stay there. I was going to find them another home. Now he’ll be in the system. He’s eight, Luke. He’ll get passed from family to family.”

“He might be adopted. The families will make sure he sees Miss Gladys. There are some very charitable parents willing to share their home with a child like Jerell.”

“It’s too soon.” My lip trembled.

Luke slipped his hand off the seat and on to my shoulder.

I pushed it off. “I don’t trust the system. People fall through the cracks all the time. And what about Tyrone’s funeral? Will they let Jerell attend? What about Miss Gladys? She’s all alone now. Jerell was protecting her.”

“An eight-year-old boy shouldn’t have to protect an old woman.”

Luke was right, of course. I hugged my chest and took deep breaths to stop the tears.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” He scooted toward me but was blocked by the center console. “Don’t cry, sugar. I didn’t want to make you cry.”

“I’m not crying. I’m fine. I’ll just see Miss Gladys in the morning and talk to her about this. We’ll figure out what to do.”

I fumbled in my pocket for a tissue, then flipped the passenger visor down to check my makeup in the mirror. I blinked at the bright light and swiped the mascara off my cheeks. Not my best look. I pulled up my tube top and patted the flyaways in my hair.

“I have some business to attend,” I said. “I’ll just see you around. You can mark Todd’s car in your little notebook as a visitor to the Avtaikin household.”

Luke laid his hand on my forearm. “Don’t. You’re still worked up. Why don’t you just sit here for a little while? Maybe we’ll see something interesting.”

“No, thank you. Have a good evening.”

“Cherry, I don’t want you visiting Avtaikin,” Luke stroked my arm. “Please.”

“Will I be arrested for visiting Mr. Max?”

“Of course not,” Luke’s brows fell. “You should stay clear of Avtaikin right now, that’s all.”

“How else am I going to stop your cousin’s campaign of hatred against me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no campaign of hatred.”

“Talk to your momma about the posters I’m doing for her. A Concerned Citizens group has formed to run me out of town. The meeting is Monday night. You can join them with your own tar and feathers.”

His hand slipped off my arm as I turned to open the door and slide out of the truck. When my feet hit the ground, I yanked on the tube top and looked over my shoulder.

“By the way, if you happen to see that silver BMW hatchback that tried to run me over the other night, you should check its plates. It’s been following me around town. Might be a stalker. Or might be one of Shawna’s minions. Or both. Have a good night.”

And kiss my ass, you child abandoner, I thought as I strode back to the Civic.