Hit & Mrs. (23 page)

“Don't be such a chickenshit,” Flea growled.

“He's right,” Bette said. “They'll track you down, so you'd better not make any hasty decisions. They might have Blue right now,
and
your drugs. Didn't you say someone was going to kill you if you didn't deliver those drugs by morning?”

Flea didn't say anything; Bette must have touched a nerve. Linda kept it up. “If they do have Blue and the drugs, you guys could swap—diamonds for coke, and vice versa.”

“You make it sound like we're swapping school lunches,” Flea shouted. “It's a little more complicated than that.”

Bette shrugged. “Not really. You have what they want and they have what you want. Once you're all straightened away, we can go home and forget this ever happened.”

“She might be right,” Tony said.

Flea looked at his watch. “It's gettin' real late. Call your cellphone and see who answers.”

Linda and Bette weren't sure they'd heard correctly, but Bette wasn't about to make a second mistake. Before Flea could change his mind, Bette pressed the buttons on the cellphone. Only she didn't call her own phone. She called home.

Stuart couldn't believe it when they lost the car. He slammed his hand on the dash. “I told her. I told her to call the police, but she's always so goddamn stubborn.”

“Will you be quiet about your stupid wife?” Ryan shouted. “What about me? I'm in agony back here. Take me to a hospital.”

“I'll take you to a hospital after I go to the police.”

“You're going to make me wait?”

Stuart twisted around in his seat and gave Ryan a look of incredulity. “My wife has been kidnapped from under my nose, and I let it happen. I think her situation is a little more urgent than your sprained ankle.”

“I hate you. You are never coming near me again when we get back home. I'm going to another plastic surgeon when I want bigger breasts. I don't care if you are the best boob man in the city.”

The taxi let them off at the police station. “Good luck, man. I hope you find your wife.”

Stuart shook his hand and pressed several bills in it. “Thanks for all your help.”

The taxi driver looked at the money. “Hey, this is more than I need.”

“You chased that car. I owe you.”

“Thanks.”

He helped Ryan out of the taxi; she couldn't walk without hanging on to him. She made him stop while she brushed the dried mud off her coat. “You're going to pay for my dry cleaning, too.”

“Ryan, please stop. I've got a colossal headache and you're not making this any easier.”

“Is it my job to make it easier? You've dragged me around New York all night and broken my ankle in the process. What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing. I want you to say nothing.”

“Nothing, nothing, nothing.”

He resisted the urge to yell at her. He managed to get her up the stairs and into the precinct with much moaning and groaning on her part. He sat her on the bench that was along one wall and walked up to the large man at the front desk.

“Excuse me, officer.”

The man held up his finger and barked into the phone. Then he wrote something down and finally looked at Stuart. “May I help you?”

“My wife has been kidnapped.”

“Excuse me?”

“My wife. Two men grabbed her and her friend and took off with them. We chased them for a while, but we lost them.”

“Did you get their license plate number?”

Stuart rubbed his forehead. “We tried, but they were too far away.”

“And why would someone want to kidnap your wife?”

That's when Stuart's professional veneer began to unravel. “I have no idea what's going on. She said she was meeting diamond smugglers so she could exchange the diamonds for her friends, who have apparently been kidnapped as well. And then she started to talk about a kidnapping, mugging, sudden-death....”

“…property-damage, gun thing?”

Stuart blinked. “Yes, how did you know?”

“Four women were here today to report just that. Let me get Detective Ames on the phone. He's still here. We're pulling a double shift since the bomb threat.”

“Bomb threat?”

“Have a seat. He'll be down in a minute.”

But Stuart didn't sit down; he paced. He didn't need another earful from Ryan. Detective Ames came down the stairs and walked over to him. “I'm Detective Ames. I spoke to your wife earlier today. We can go upstairs and you can fill me in.”

The two of them started for the stairs.

“Excuse me. Did you forget about me?”

Stuart turned around. “Ryan, you stay here. I'll be down in a minute.”

“I don't think so. I've been traumatized too, in case you've forgotten.

”Stuart looked at Detective Ames. “Would you mind helping me? She's turned her ankle.”

They went back and Ryan put her arms around their shoulders. They hopped her over to the stairs and started up. Detective Ames told her not to worry, that they'd find her mother.

“She's not my mother. She's the loony wife of my boyfriend here.”

Stuart turned a lovely shade of red.

Detective Ames looked at the floor. “Sorry, my mistake.”

They finally dumped Ryan in one of the chairs in front of the detective's desk. He went around it and sat down, pulling a sheet out of his pile. He took a pen from the inside pocket of his suit.

“What's your wife's name?”

“Linda. Linda Keaton.”

“And she has a friend named Bette Weinberg, I believe.”

“Yes, that's correct. Bette was with her when they were taken.”

“Do you have a picture of your wife?”

Stuart extracted his wallet from his back pocket and took out a picture. “Here's Linda.” He passed it over and began to babble. “We were on vacation in Florida. That's Wes, our son. He was only fourteen at the time. He's twenty-five now. Nice boy, never any trouble. Does his mother proud.”

“Thanks. I'll need this to send out a bulletin.” The detective examined the picture. “She hardly looks a day older.”

Stuart nodded. “Linda's a striking woman. Always has been.”

“‘A striking woman?' Well, isn't that nice. Start complimenting your wife right in front of my face, why don't you? You really are a piece of work, Stuart, did you know that? Here I sit with my ankle swollen, and has anyone offered me so much as an ice pack? You men are all the same. I really want nothing more to do with either of you.”

She crossed her arms and looked away.

Detective Ames glanced at Stuart's downcast face before he looked at Linda's picture again. What a shame. Who would cheat on such a lovely woman?

Ida and Izzy's daughters-in-law, Miriam and Esther, stayed at the apartment in case Bette called. They curled up on either end of the living room couch and tried to stay awake and alert, but it had been an exhausting day and they soon nodded off. When the phone rang, the two of them popped up and looked about like gophers out of a hole. Miriam got to the phone first. She never even had a chance to open her mouth. “We've been kidnapped, we're a half an hour north of Washington Square Park…” There was a scuffle and the line went dead.

Miriam's face registered shock.

“Was that Bette? Is something wrong?” Esther asked.

Miriam's hands started to shake. “Oh my God, it was Bette. She said they've been kidnapped and they're a half an hour north of Washington Square Park. And then the phone went dead like someone ripped it out of her hand.”

Esther's knees buckled. “Call the police.”

“Call the police here?”

Esther picked up the newspaper Mordecai had written on. “No, call that detective. His number is right here.”

“And then we have to call Mordecai.”

Mordecai was driving one of the vans through the night. His father was sitting in the front seat, while his brother David was stuck in the back with their mother. Mordecai couldn't decide if his father's smoking or his mother's voice was the most irritating part of the trip. He finally concluded that it was a tie.

He led the convoy, while his uncle, brothers, and cousins were behind him. Someone had had the good sense to take along three walkie-talkies, so they could communicate with each other without tying up their cellphones.

They made good time; traffic was light in the middle of the night. Large transport trucks zoomed along, but cars were few and far between. Izzy lit another cigarette.

“Geez, Pop, give it a rest. The ashtray's overflowing as it is.”

“Leave your father alone,” his mother said. “If he wants to smoke, let him smoke.”

Mordecai caught his brother's eyes in the rear-view mirror and they shook their heads ever so slightly. Ida noticed.

“What? You want I should I tell your father to quit smoking? I'd be dead in two seconds. He'd kill me for sure.”

“He should cut down,” David said. “I can't bring the kids over to visit because of their asthma.”

“Why can't they stay on the balcony?” Izzy said. “They'd get plenty of fresh air out there. Kids need fresh air.”

“I'm going to send my kids out to play on a balcony thirty feet off the ground? You're crazy.”

“Don't call your father crazy.”

“Why? You do.”

“I'm allowed.”

“But I'm not?”

“No, you're not.”

“That's right. Listen to your mother,” Izzy coughed.

Mordecai reached for the radio and turned it up full blast, so he didn't hear the phone ring, but he felt it vibrate in his pocket.

“You call that music?” Ida said. “Where's Perry Como when you need him?”

“Mama, hush. The phone.” He turned down the radio and reached into his pocket. There was instant silence. “Hello?”

“Oh, baby, it's me,” Miriam cried into the phone.

“What's wrong?”

Ida shouted behind him, “Something's wrong?”

“Ma, be quiet for a sec.” Mordecai put the phone back up to his ear. “What is it? Tell me.”

“Bette called—”

“Oh, thank God.”

“No, you don't understand. She called to say she'd been kidnapped and they were being held thirty minutes away from a place called Washington Square Park. Then the phone went dead. I called that detective, so the police are looking for her right now.”

“I can't believe this.”

“
What?
” Ida and Izzy shouted.

Mordecai put the phone against his chest. “I'll tell you in a minute.

Let me talk.” He returned to his phone. “Did you tell the detectives we're on our way?”

There was an intake of breath. “No, I didn't. I forgot all about it. Should I call them back?”

“Not yet. I'll call you when we're closer to the city. There may be more news by then. In the meantime, stay calm. Everything's going to be all right.”

“You didn't hear her voice. She sounded frightened.”

Mordecai had a hard time seeing the road with the tears that welled up in his eyes. “It's okay; we're going to get her.”

“Please be safe. Don't let anything happen to you.”

“We'll be fine. There's safety in numbers. I better go. Love you.”

“Love you too. Call me as soon as you hear something.”

“Will do.” Mordecai turned off his phone and held his hand in the air to ward off any questions. “That was Miriam. Bette called—”

Shouts of joy rang out. Then he told them what Miriam said. The shrieks were deafening.

Izzy grabbed the walkie-talkie. “Car one calling car two, over.”

Uncle Sid's voice crackled, “Go ahead, car one, over.”

“Bette's been kidnapped! Over.”

The crackling came on with only uproar in the background. Mordecai looked out his side-view mirror and saw the van behind them almost go off the road.

“Papa, they're panicking. Don't say anything else. We'll pull over at the next gas station.”

“My brother needs to know. He's the head of the family.”

Mordecai glanced at him. He suddenly saw his father as a younger brother who needed his big brother right away. “Sorry, Pop.”

Ida's sobs in the back were heartbreaking. David did his best to console her.

Car two must have called car three, because suddenly the bakery truck careened from behind car two and roared up beside Mordecai. His crazy cousins shouted at him through the glass, as if he was going to hear them as they sped down the road.

“Tell them to stop at the next gas station,” Mordecai yelled at his father. “They're going to cause an accident.”

Izzy relayed the message and one of his cousins gave him the thumbs up, but they still beat it down the highway, so Mordecai sped up. Car two stuck to his bumper like glue.

CHAPTER TWELVE

When Candy and Dumber threw Blue into the back of the van and drove off, Gemma and Augusta couldn't figure out what on earth was going on.

“Are you involved with all this, or are you just a hitchhiker?” Gemma asked.

“I don't know these people. Who the heck are you?”

“We're the welcome wagon. So what's your name?”

“Blue.”

“As in the colour blue or the wind blew?”

“As in suede shoes.” Blue turned to Dumb. “Where's Starr?”

Dumb looked dumbfounded. “Who?”

“My girlfriend. They said they'd kill her.”

“Who said?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Not me.”

“Then who?”

“Give it a rest, you sound like a couple of kids,” Gemma grumped.

“Shut up,” Dumb said. “Don't talk.”

“Shut up and don't talk mean the same thing.”

“Can it.”

“Good one. Can you make it four?”

“Shut your face.”