Honey and Leonard (17 page)

Luther took the pilot's seat and began his pre-flight routine while a crewmember strapped in Honey and Leonard and gave them helmets with radios. Before anybody had time to get anxious, they were lifting off the ship and hanging over nothing but salt water. Luther banked the Black Hawk sharply and headed for the coast. "How you two holding up?" he asked. "Can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear and roger that," Leonard said.

"Who is this Roger?" Honey joked.

"He's the guy who keeps the radio humming," Luther said.

Once they leveled off, Luther got downright chatty on the radio. "You know, every time I take off in a helicopter I go right back to Vietnam. I can feel the jungle right now. I can see it. I can smell it. I can smell the blood and the body odor of the guys we medevaced. Some of them died in my helicopter. That was the worst, watching broken young men dying right in front of me. I'll never forget the bodies. I was lucky. I got shot up a lot but I only got shot down once."

"That sounds like more than enough," Leonard said.

"They only got our fuel line so we were able to get out of the zone and make a pretty rough emergency landing. We got picked up pretty quickly."

"What happened to your helicopter?" Leonard asked.

"It's probably still there. We were on a secret weapons run to Cambodia. That was actually my introduction to selling weapons, thanks to the United States government. Now, they're my biggest clients. How do you think I got this chopper?"

"You sell weapons for the U.S.?" Honey asked.

"Our country is the biggest arms dealer in the world," Luther said. "I made my first fortune helping the U.S. sell Saddam Hussein from Iraq an unbelievably large arsenal in the 1980's for his insane war against Iran."

Honey gave Leonard a look that said, for the first time, she was beginning to feel uncomfortable about Luther.

"I know," Luther said, responding to the stunned silence of his guests. "Selling weapons is evil. I see that now. You'll be glad to know I don't have to do that anymore."

"How'd you go from weapons to oil?" Leonard asked.

"Boy, Leonard, there's not much wrong with your memory," Luther laughed. "To be perfectly blunt, there's not much difference between guns and oil. Whoever has the military power gets the goods."

Luther turned and looked at Honey, who was wide eyed at his recent comments. "I can see I've said too much already," he said. "Let's change the topic. See that mountain over there that looks like a volcano? Our landing spot is at the base of that mountain. Prepare for landing."

Michael Maxwell was waiting with a car at the site when Luther made a perfect landing. As the whirling blades began to slow and dust began to settle, several men with what looked like automatic rifles reported briefly to Maxwell and then disappeared into the hillside terrain. Honey and Leonard got into the backseat with Maxwell driving and Luther in the front passenger seat. Honey turned around in her seat and noticed they were being followed by a large van. She tapped Luther on the back and asked, "Why are we being followed?"

Luther directed a quick scowl to Maxwell, who got on his radio immediately. The van fell behind and disappeared. "We are never supposed to see the security detail," Luther explained. "If we can see them, so can everybody else."

"Why do we need security?" Honey asked. "I don't think I like that."

"We've had it all along," Luther said. "It's something I got into the habit of doing a long time ago."

"Who's out to get you?" Leonard asked.

"Nobody, actually," Luther said. "It's really more for you than me. You two are the ones being chased."

"So, what are you going to do? Shoot somebody who gets too close to us?" Honey asked.

"No, no," Luther said. "I can see this has upset you. Really, it's more about keeping a lookout than anything."

Honey rode on in silence until they arrived in the fishing village Luther had scheduled for exploration. It was as perfect as he had described; colorful, old boats on a narrow beach tucked into a rock wall harbor. The three of them walked down to a cinder block restaurant with a large porch overlooking the stunning view. Maxwell stayed with the car. Honey was uncharacteristically quiet. She couldn't help looking around for the security team.

"You won't see anybody," Luther said. "I've sent them back to the helicopter. That does need to be guarded. But, Honey, please, talk to me. I can see that you are troubled."

"Luther," Honey launched into what sounded like a prepared speech, "I saw a side of you come to life as soon as you got into that helicopter. It's your military side, something I suspect you'll be trying to get over for the rest of your life. It divides the world into two parts, friend and foe. It seeks out the enemy and destroys it. It has no mercy and it has no love."

"Honey," Leonard intervened, "don't be so hard on our man."

"No, please," Luther said. "Let her finish."

"Luther, my dear man," Honey said, putting her hand on his shoulder. "You have been so good to us. And we've had such fun with you. It's just that I suddenly realized why you are so alone in this world. And why it's so perfect that you let Leonard and I into your life. Don't you see? We're here to set you free. Free from the war you never stopped fighting."

Luther put his hand on top of Honey's hand and started tearing up. "You have incredible intuition, Honey. I thought I was helping you two, but I'm starting to realize it's really the other way around."

"That's the way it always is when you help people," Leonard said.

"You've opened up your heart to us," Honey said. "Once you let us in you can start letting the rest of the world in. See?" she said. "It's easy. Life can be a perfect picnic in paradise."

The air was cleared. The tension among them vanished. They got back to being old friends and traveling buddies. The food arrived and it was delicious; fish in lemon and garlic butter sauce with pasta and fresh salad and white wine in a bottle with no label.

"What is this?" Leonard asked, holding up the bread basket. "French bread in Italy?"

The waiter almost spilled the water he was refilling. "French bread?" he joked. "Ha. Ha," he grabbed the basket and held it over his head. "The bread is Italian. The French steal their bread from Italy. The French take all their cooking lessons from the Italians."

They laughed at that one. When they were coming out of the comic relief, Luther took the conversation in a new and bold direction, "I've been thinking about inviting that journalist, Jack Crumbo, onboard for an exclusive interview."

Leonard leaned forward and asked, "Are we ready for that?"

"Well," Luther began, "I can tell the two of you are beginning to think about heading home. And I've been wondering how I can help."

"What do you mean?" Honey asked.

"First of all, we can prove Leonard was never poisoned. Secondly, Dr. Laughlin can testify that Leonard is competent because he has shown so much improvement from the experimental drugs he's been taking."

Leonard looked at Honey like he was pretty sure he wasn't making all that much progress in the memory department.

"What about me violating the no-contact order?" Honey asked. "And what about you getting in trouble for helping fugitives or harboring known criminals or whatever they call it?"

"We'll let our attorneys work that out," Luther said as he raised his glass in a toast, "Here's to Jack Crumbo. May we have him aboard
The Sinbad
by noon tomorrow."

"And here's to you coming to Indiana," Honey toasted back. "We might have just the girl for you."

With that, Honey and Leonard stood up like a couple vaudevillians and broke into their spirited version of "Back Home Again In Indiana." It was a song they sang together every chance they got.

They sang it well as they always did. Even though they sang the same notes, it sounded like harmony because of the two-octave difference in their voices. By the time they finished the song, the entire restaurant staff had come out to listen. Honey and Leonard were applauded and cheered by the cook, the bartender, the waiter, Luther and two other tables of their fellow diners. Honey and Leonard took their bows and gave each other a kissing hug.

One thing was readily apparent to even the most casual observer: Honey and Leonard were beginning to get homesick.

And they were getting careless about being recognized.

"Surprise," Honey said. "We're alive."

Crumbo's mouth dropped open as his eyes adjusted to the light. He knew it was Honey by the sound of her voice, but he was too shocked to speak. Lacoste was in a similar state. They had been under their hoods for nearly two hours.

"Were the hoods really necessary?" Leonard asked Maxwell. "We trust these guys."

"I'm afraid so," Maxwell said. "It's for their own protection."

By the time he finished his sentence, Honey was around the table and giving both Crumbo and Lacoste a big hug. "Thank you boys so much for coming. Those hoods must have been terrible."

"Not to worry," Crumbo said, returning her hug. "We agreed to it. They were pretty loose. But let me look at you and Leonard," Crumbo was beaming. "Now the world will have to admit I was right. You are alive."

"You're probably wondering why we've invited you here," Leonard joked.

"No, I've got a pretty good idea what you're up to," Crumbo said. "But I don't know where we are. In the last couple hours we've been in a car, a helicopter and a boat, and now it feels like we're on a bigger boat. I must say, the gentleman who showed us the way has been more than polite."

"We knew he would be," Honey said. "And I'm glad to see you've brought your cameras and a copy of today's newspaper. We're ready for our photoshoot to prove we did not drown in St. Tropez. Please try to take a better photo than the one everybody's been using. As you can see, we dressed for the occasion."

"You both look fantastic," Lacoste blurted out. "I can't believe Mr. Crumbo let me come along. This is the biggest story of my life. You two look even younger than I remember."

The big difference in the way Honey and Leonard looked was the fact that they had obtained marvelously deep tans in their travels with Luther.

Crumbo was trying to be all business in getting his camera ready for the photoshoot, but Honey could see tears rolling down his face. "Why, Jack Crumbo," she teased. "You old softy. You're so happy to see us you can't hold back the tears."

"Now, pumpkin," Leonard said. "This is a pretty emotional moment. It's not every day somebody gets to come back from the dead."

"I knew you were alive," Crumbo said. "I knew it deep down in my bones. You guys are too ornery to die young."

"Oh, my boy," Honey said. "Flattery will get you the news scoop of your lifetime."

Crumbo and Lacoste began taking pictures as Honey and Leonard held up copies of daily publications to prove the date. Crumbo turned on his handheld tape recorder and began questioning. "Leonard, how are you doing?"

"Better than I have the right to expect. Doc has me on some new drug that helps some with the memory. Go ahead, ask me anything. I'll know the answer."

"How long since you left Indiana?" Crumbo asked.

Leonard looked at Honey helplessly and then said to Crumbo, "You would have to ask me a tough one right off the bat. But wait. I know. Give me a minute. I'm going to say it's been about a month and a half."

"What drug do they have you on?"

"That, I couldn't tell you. All I can say is Doc has me taking it twice a day."

"Who is the doctor?"

"I can't tell you that because I don't want to get him in trouble."

Crumbo shook Leonard's hand and said, "Well, I'm no doctor, but you sure sound good to me. And I've got to say it. I've never been so happy to see somebody looking so good."

Crumbo and Lacoste continued the interview even as they were served a seven-course feast for lunch.

"I promised these gentlemen we would feed them well," Maxwell explained. "They weren't sure they could trust me until I showed them your note," he said to Honey.

"You do know the French police are hot on your trail," Lacoste said. "My connections tell me the Honey and Leonard sightings are coming in quite regularly. Fortunately for you, they're coming from all over. It's like people saying they saw Elvis alive. Most of the reports are clearly not reliable. But lately, the reports are starting to focus on the Italian coast, west of Genoa. Right about where your man had us meet him."

"Well, you can tell the police they won't have to look for us much longer," Honey said. "We're headed back to Indiana to meet this thing head on. We're not running anymore."

"We never were running," Leonard said. "We were just having fun."

Doctor Laughlin walked into the room carrying a thick folder under his arm. He introduced himself to the reporters by his real name. Honey and Leonard were shocked.

"I thought you didn't want us to use your name."

"Don't worry," Dr. Laughlin said. "I changed my mind. Once the facts get out, none of us will have to worry." He handed the folder to Crumbo and said, "Here's everything you need for your story. My blood tests clearly show the arsenic levels in Leonard's blood are from years of farming and probable exposure to pesticides. Also, results from a complete battery of mental examinations showing Mr. Atkins is quite competent. In addition, my work has been confirmed by a team of talented researchers at the Mayo Clinic."

Crumbo tried to ask questions, but the doctor left the room, saying, "It's all in the reports."

Honey and Leonard and the reporters were speechless. Maxwell remained silent in the television corner.

Crumbo was the first to speak when he asked Honey, "So when will you return to Indiana?"

"I can't say exactly when," Honey said. "But it will be soon. Let's just say we'll be home for Halloween."

"It's not going to be as easy as the doctor seems to think," Crumbo said. "Leonard's niece, Gretchen, has her own doctors from the nursing home, and they're all ready to testify that Leonard is not competent."

"I'll set them straight in a hurry," Leonard said. "I'm feeling sharper than I have in a long time."

"You certainly seem competent to me," Lacoste said. "Why don't you revoke the power of attorney right now? Wouldn't that take Gretchen out of the equation?"

"We've already done that," Leonard said. "Unfortunately, that won't undo the damage she's done."

"So, tell me the story of how you got away from everybody in St. Tropez?" Crumbo asked.

She was even more amazed by the photos accompanying the story. Honey and Leonard looked tanned and youthful and happy as they held up an Italian newspaper dated October 15, 1992.

Jack Crumbo's byline was on top of the story, and the first paragraph was unmistakably his writing style. Nobody could cram more information and drama into a couple lead sentences than Crumbo.

Honey and Leonard are alive and living in high style on a luxury yacht somewhere on the Mediterranean Sea. The couple plans to return home to Indiana in the near future to establish Leonard's competency and to defend Honey in criminal court.

Gretchen had to put the paper down after the opening paragraph of the story to catch her breath. She was so emotionally conflicted she was hyperventilating. Learning that her Uncle Leonard was alive was such a relief it made her cry. Knowing that Honey was also alive and by his side, filled Gretchen with enough hatred and jealousy to sink a yacht in any sea.

That bitch! Look at that smug smile. She's mocking me. We'll see who laughs last on this one, Miss Honey.

Gretchen's phone rang. She answered it after five rings. It was the investigator, Adam Wolf. He was still in St. Tropez with his "interpreter," Simon. He needed more money.

"You're fired," Gretchen shouted into the phone.

Wolf said nothing.

"Have you seen
The
Chicago Tribune
this morning?" Gretchen asked.

"I'm in France."

"Jack Crumbo has an interview with them on the front page. He's got photos to prove they're still alive."

"Where are they?"

"You're asking
me
?" Gretchen shrieked. "You're asking
me
?" she screamed as she hung up the phone with an angry slam.

She looked back at the newspaper in disbelief. Honey and Leonard looked so happy. How could they look so good together? The photo was making her physically ill. Everybody was in love but her. Even her investigator had fallen in love. And she had unwittingly financed the courtship. Or Uncle Leonard did.

What was happening to her? Gretchen was feeling alone and filled with guilt. No doubt, her theft from Uncle Leonard's fortune would soon be discovered. She would be exposed and ruined. She might even go to jail.

The phone rang again. She couldn't answer it. She knew it was Adam Wolf. She didn't care. She ran upstairs in a full panic and threw herself onto her unmade bed, sobbing in fear and frustration. She grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey hidden behind her bed frame. There was less than a good gulp left. She swilled it down and threw the bottle against the wall. It made a dent in the drywall but didn't shatter the glass. She buried her head in the pillow and wished she could suffocate herself to death.

Why did Honey have to come along and ruin everything?

In less than a minute, Gretchen stopped crying and pulled her head out of the pillow. It was as if she had seen from an overhead camera how pathetic she looked. She got up and dusted herself off emotionally.

Come on, girl. He's still your uncle and she's still breaking the law. This game is far from over.