Hot Wheels (2 page)

“Smart-Mouth Kid,” Joe Torres Said, Shoving Jupiter backward on the sidewalk.

“I think — ” Jupiter protested.

Torres shoved him again. “Don’t think, kid. You gonna get in real trouble with that big mouth.”

Behind the bodega owner, Nacio and Carlos grinned nastily. But as Torres extended his hand to shove once more, Jupiter suddenly went into the migishizentai judo move — feet a foot apart, right foot forward.

He caught Torres’s shirt in his hands, pulling him off balance. He turned around and threw the bodega owner over his right side, slamming him down on the sidewalk like a sack of flour in an o goshi body drop.

Torres howled in pain as he hit the hard concrete. He lay on the sidewalk, stunned. Nacio and Carlos stood paralyzed.

Jupiter didn’t wait for them to recover from their shock. He raced to the Fiero. Pete had the motor running and the door open. Jupe jumped in and they roared away.

“What a great throw!” Pete said as he drove the Fiero out of the barrio.

“The o goshi.” Jupiter laughed. “We practiced it all last week in judo class.”

“Judo’s good, but karate’s got more power.”

“When I get my weight down on the new diet, I’ll learn karate too.”

Pete said nothing. Jupiter’s diets were a never-ending joke. One appeared, and was dropped for a new one, faster than Pete or Bob could keep track of. But Jupiter didn’t appreciate cracks about his weight or his diets, so Pete and Bob usually kept their remarks to themselves.

“You think that Torres guy is lying, Jupe?” Pete said instead.

“I’m sure of it. And that means Ty is probably telling the truth. We have to get Ty out of jail to help us investigate and clear him.”

“We better get Bob, too,” Pete said.

When they reached the salvage yard, they hurried into their headquarters trailer to call Bob.

The old house trailer had once been buried under mounds of junk to hide it, but when Jupiter computerized the salvage yard inventory, the guys had cleared away the junk and opened it up. They’d installed an electronic lock, a burglar alarm, a counter surveillance unit against electronic bugs, two computers, and an air conditioner.

Bob’s mother told them Bob was working at his job at Rock-Plus talent agency, so they called there. They got the agency’s answering machine. For a few seconds all they could hear was loud rock music. Then Bob’s voice, straining to be heard over the beat, told them to leave a message.

“He’s probably out looking for some band’s drummer,” Pete said. “He says all drummers are crazy.”

“We’ll try again later,” Jupiter said. “Right now, we’d better go and talk to Aunt Mathilda about Ty.”

They headed across the yard to the office. Aunt Mathilda looked up anxiously as they entered the crowded little cabin.

“Where’s Ty?” she asked.

“They took him downtown to be booked, Aunt M,” Jupiter answered.

He and Pete described what had happened at the bodega — except Jupiter’s judo triumph.

“Then he did steal that car!” she exclaimed angrily.

“We don’t think so,” Jupiter said. “We think Torres is lying. We have to get Ty out of jail so he can help us prove it. He’s the only one who can identify Tiburon. Will you call your lawyer, Aunt Mathilda?”

She shook her head. “Not yet, Jupiter. I mean, what do we really know about Ty? Is he even my cousin? Before I do anything else, I’m going to call Cousin Amy in Babylon and check on his story.”

“Hurry, Aunt M, or the trail could get cold,” Jupiter urged. “We’ll be out in my workshop.”

They headed back across the yard to the workshop Jupiter had always had in a corner of the salvage yard, next to the HQ trailer. But now it was roofed over and expanded into a complete electronics shop. Jupiter had installed an extension telephone from the trailer, put a satellite dish antenna on the roof, and crammed the shop with all the detective equipment he’d built and bought.

“Let’s try Bob again,” he said as they got to the workshop.

“Let’s not,” Pete said. “Look!”

An ancient red Volkswagen bug wheeled into the yard. A pair of girl’s legs stuck out the passenger window. The bug was followed by a shiny new VW Rabbit convertible with two more teenage girls in it.

One of the girls in the Rabbit was sitting on the back of the front seat, waving a beach towel. Both girls scrambled out and ran to the bug as it stopped near the workshop.

Bob Andrews stepped out of the driver’s side of the bug and waved to Jupiter and Pete. Three girls in shorts and halter tops poured out of the passenger side of the ancient VW.

“We’re setting up a beach party, guys,” Bob said, the girls trooping behind him. “Get your jams and let’s go.”

“Beach party?” Jupiter stared at the five girls crowding around Bob.

“Your friend’s cute, Bob,” the shortest of the girls said. She moved closer to Jupiter. A bare five feet two, even with small heels on her sandals, she was slim and perky. She had short blond hair and wide blue eyes that smiled at Jupiter.

Jupiter, five feet eight and a whole three quarters of an inch tall, liked short girls most of all. But he always turned beet red when one smiled at him. “I–I — ”

“I’ve got a karate class today, Bob,” Pete said. “Anyway, you know Kelly hates big gangs at the beach.”

“It’s spring break, Pete. You can skip karate. We go to the same class, remember?” Bob laughed. “Come on, tell Kelly you’re going to do something you want to do for once. When she gets there, she’ll love it.”

“It’ll be so much fun,” the short girl said, still smiling up at Jupiter. “With your friends and all.”

Jupiter turned from red to white. “I… we… I mean — ” He gulped hard. “I mean, Bob, we’ve got a new case! The police think Aunt Mathilda’s cousin Ty is a car thief. They’ve arrested him and put him in jail. We’ve got to find the real thieves and get him out.”

“A case?” Bob’s eyes lighted up. “Car thieves?”

“Aunt Mathilda’s lawyer will get Ty out of jail,” Jupiter continued. “Then we’ll investigate Ty’s whole story.”

“Story?” Bob said.

“Unless Ty turns out to be a fake, Jupe,” Pete said. “I mean, maybe he’s not even your cousin.”

“Fake?” Bob cried. “Story? Is someone going to tell me the whole thing or what?”

“Gosh,” Pete said innocently, “what about your big beach party?”

A tall redhead who’d been with Bob in the bug and stood closest to him now said, “Bob, are we going?”

“The guys have a case, Lisa,” Bob said.

“Are we having a beach party or not?” another girl said.

The short girl spoke to Jupiter. “Don’t you want to go to the beach with us?”

“We… we… have to help my cousin,” Jupiter stammered. “Maybe later we can… ”

“Jupiter’s right, girls,” Bob said. “We’ll do the beach party tomorrow, okay? I’ve got to help out my friends right now. We’re a team of investigators.”

“We came in your car, Bob,” Lisa complained. “How do we get back to the coffee shop?”

“Karen has room for you all,” Bob said. “I’ll see you all later. Okay, Lisa?”

The girls weren’t happy. Bob walked them back to the Rabbit convertible and waved to them as they drove off. Four of the girls waved back. Only the tall redhead, Lisa, seemed really annoyed. Bob hurried back to Pete and Jupiter.

“Okay, let’s hear it, and this better be one real humdinger of a case,” he said. “Those girls’re all mad at me now, especially Lisa.”

Lean and handsome in khakis and a bright yellow polo shirt, Bob had obviously come from his job at Rock-Plus, Inc.

“You’re sure you don’t have to get back to work?” Pete said. “On your way to the beach, I mean.”

Ever since he’d quit his part-time job at the library, exchanged his glasses for contact lenses, and found the job with Saxon Sendler’s talent agency, Bob had been too busy juggling work and his social life to hang around the salvage yard. That really annoyed Pete, and the two often quarreled about it. Jupiter had to be the peacemaker to keep the team working.

“Your mother told us you were at work,” Jupe added quickly.

“I was,” Bob replied. “But Sax had to go to L.A. for the rest of the day and didn’t need me. I stopped at the coffee shop and ran into the girls. Now, come on, tell me what’s going on.”

Jupiter filled Bob in on what had happened, including Ty’s story of how he happened to be driving the Mercedes when he had obviously hitchhiked across the country and didn’t even have money for a cheap motel.

“It is a pretty lame story,” Jupiter admitted. “But he couldn’t have made up a name like Tiburon. Tiburon means ‘shark’ in Spanish. Now who would have a name like Tiburon?”

“Maybe the guy knew the car was stolen and disguised his real name,” Pete suggested.

“Well, I don’t know,” Bob said. “There’s a guy right here in Rocky Beach named Tiburon. El Tiburon and the Piranhas!”

Jupiter and Pete stared at their partner. “Who, or what,” Jupiter demanded, “is El Tiburon and the Piranhas?”

“Not is,” Bob said, “are. There’re five of them. A Latino La Bamba band that plays a lot of salsa but some regular rock, too. El Tiburon is the lead guitar and singer. They’ve got another guitar, a bass, a drummer, and a keyboard.”

“One of your boss’s bands?” Pete asked.

Bob shook his head. “Jake Hatch, Sax’s major competitor around town, handles them. Sax thinks they’re terrible, but they get a lot of work playing small clubs and private parties. They also do relief band gigs and backups, especially in the Latino clubs.”

“Are any of them older guys?” Pete asked. He described Joe Torres from the bodega.

“No, they’re all pretty young. El Tiburon’s probably the oldest, and he’s only maybe twenty-two or — three.”

“They play around Rocky Beach?” Jupiter asked.

“All up and down the coast and even in L.A. They’re about the most popular band Hatch has. Sax has all the good local bands. That makes Hatch real mad. Sax just laughs. He says he can’t figure how Hatch makes a living at all with such lousy talent!”

Jupiter said, “Could they have been up in — ”

Aunt Mathilda came storming out of the office and across the yard to the workshop. She was wearing a new, brightly colored silk scarf around her neck. Jupe guessed it was Ty’s present from New York.

“Well! Ty is just what he says he is, but his mother is an awful person!” raged Aunt Mathilda. “It all came back to me while I was talking to her, I never did like Amy — that’s why I put her out of my mind. No wonder Ty came to California!”

“What did she say, Aunt M?”

“What didn’t she say! And about her own son, too. That poor boy.” The angry woman shook with indignation.

“Did she say anything about any police trouble?” Jupiter pressed. “About stealing cars?”

“Amy called him a flake and said he was lazy, unreliable, and worse than that!”

Jupiter sighed. “Aunt M?”

The outraged woman continued to fume for a few moments. Then she shook her head. “Nothing about stealing cars, but she did say Ty was in trouble with the police when he was younger. Juvenile things like rowdyism and some shoplifting. He even used drugs for a while. But that was ten years ago, and he hasn’t been in any trouble since. I’m sure he learned his lesson.” Jupiter nodded. “Is your cousin going to help get him out of jail?”

“Not her! She said she has no money to waste on a no-good son. As far as she’s concerned, Ty’s on his own. I’ve already called my lawyer, but he thinks he’ll have trouble getting Ty released.”

“Why?” Pete asked.

“Is there something we don’t know?” Bob said.

Aunt Mathilda looked serious. “The police want him held without bail.”

“On what grounds?” Jupiter cried.

“That he has a past criminal record and is from out of state. And even more important, he’s a material witness against what they think is a gang of car thieves operating in Rocky Beach.”

“When will you know if we can get him out?”

“There’s a hearing later,” she said. “But my lawyer wants to talk to a judge before then.”

“Keep trying, okay, Aunt Mathilda?” Jupiter urged. “It’s vital we get him out to help us”

The angry woman agreed, and went back to the office to call her lawyer again. In the workshop the Three Investigators looked at one another.

“Can we go ahead without him, Jupe?” Pete asked.

“We’ll have to.” Jupiter became thoughtful. “So the police think there’s a ring of car thieves in Rocky Beach, do they? That has to mean there have been a lot of other car thefts in the area recently.” He turned to Bob. “Bob, can you find out if El Tiburon and the Piranhas were playing a gig in Oxnard the night Ty says Tiburon asked him to drive the Mercedes down here?”

“Sure. I can ask Jake Hatch.”

“No. I don’t want anyone to know we’re investigating.”

Bob grinned. “I’ll figure something out.”

“How about right now,” Jupiter said.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Pete groaned. “I can’t miss karate class this afternoon. It’s my kata demonstration.”

“What’s so important about that?” Jupiter said.

“The kata are the ancient training exercises, Jupe,” Bob explained. “They’re the whole spirit of karate. There are about fifty of them, and you have to do a lot of exact moves in an exact amount of time. We do one a month.”

“Anyway, I have to pick up Kelly at the Y after,” Pete added. “She has her aerobics class at the same time.”

“I guess Bob and I can handle it,” Jupiter said. “Meet us back here later, okay?”

Bob grinned. “We’ll tell you all about the excitement and fun we had hoodwinking Jake Hatch.”

“Forget it,” Pete said hotly. “I’ll skip karate and pick up Kelly later. Come on, guys!”

They all laughed as Pete ran for his battered Fiero and Bob headed for his antique but shining VW. While Jupiter decided who to ride with, a sleek silver Jaguar XJ6 sedan drove into the salvage yard. A slim brunette in sky-blue exercise sweats bounced out of the Jag. She waved back to someone inside.

“Thanks bunches, Dad! Pete’ll bring me home. Bye!”

The Jaguar zoomed away. Kelly Madigan ran across the salvage yard to Pete and took his arm. She barely came to his shoulder. Kelly looked up at Pete with her big green eyes and smiled into his startled face.

“Daddy couldn’t drive me to aerobics, so I told him to bring me here and you would.” On tiptoe she kissed Pete on the nose and grinned. “I mean, we always meet after your karate class anyway.”

Pete gulped. “I’m not going to karate today, Kel… I — ”

“Not going? Why not, for heaven’s sake?”

“We… we’ve got a big case, Kel. Jupiter’s cousin Ty is in, trouble and we have to solve the case and get him out of jail.”

“Case? Oh, I know that’s important, but we always go to karate and aerobics on Monday. How are you going to take me home if you’re on a case? And Mother expects us for dinner afterward, remember? I’m sure Jupe and Bob can do it all fine for today. Anyway, we better go or we’ll be late.”

She took Pete’s hand, waved to Jupiter and Bob, and pulled the confused Pete to his car. With a helpless shrug to his friends, Pete got in. The Fiero drove out of the yard and turned toward the YWCA across town.

“That,” Bob said, “is why I don’t let any girl make me go steady, no sir! Play the field, that’s the only way, right, Jupe?”

“I guess I’d like to play any way I could.”

“Come on, Jupe, I bring enough girls around for you. So does Pete. Don’t you like any of them?”

Jupiter sighed. “It’s more they don’t like me.”

“A lot of girls like you, I can see that. I mean, take that little Ruthie today. She definitely liked you. All you have to do is make your move.”

Jupiter flushed. “Anyway, what about finding out about El Tiburon and the Piranhas?”

“No problem. Let’s go.”

They got into Bob’s bug and drove out of the salvage yard. Bob turned toward downtown.

“Where are we going?” Jupe asked.

“Jake Hatch’s office.”

“But we don’t want him to know we’re investigating — ”

Bob smiled. “Trust me.”

They reached a seedy, dilapidated building on the edge of the main downtown shopping area. Bob parked in the lot at the rear.

There was no elevator in the run-down building. Only a feeble light filtered in through the dusty sky-light over the stairwell. Rows of scarred half-glass doors lined the uncarpeted hallways. On the third floor Bob opened the last door on the right. The Investigators stepped into an outer office. Beyond it was Jake Hatch’s private inner office.

“Hi, Gracie,” Bob said. “Is Mr. Hatch in?” A pretty young woman with blond hair sat at the only desk in the outer office. She was typing some long list. She looked up and smiled when she saw Bob.

“You know it’s his lunchtime.” Bob sat on the edge of her desk and flashed his most charming smile. “Sure, that’s why I came now.”

The young woman laughed and shook her head at Bob’s brashness. He had to be five years younger than she was, but her eyes said she was pleased to see him. “You’re much too sure of yourself, Bob Andrews.”

“Is it a crime that I like to talk to you instead of old Jake, Gracie?” Bob’s smile widened. “Besides, I brought my friend Jupiter along today so he could meet you. Jupe, this is Grace Salieri, the best secretary in the business.”

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Salieri,” Jupiter said.

“Call me Gracie, Jupiter,” Grace Salieri said. “Now cut the soft soap, okay, Bob? What are you doing here?”

“Sax has a client who wants a La Bamba band,” Bob explained. “We don’t have one. The guy was up in Oxnard a couple of nights ago and saw a gig he liked. He couldn’t remember the name of the group. I thought it might have been El Tiburon and the Piranhas. Were they up in Oxnard two nights ago, and where are they playing the next couple of days?”

“Jake’d want the full commission on Tiburon.”

“Sax doesn’t care about his split on this. He just wants to please the client.”

Grace got up and walked into the inner office.

“What’s she doing, Bob?” Jupiter whispered.

“Checking the booking charts on Jake’s wall. Sax uses the same system. It’s faster than a computer — you see where all your bands are at once.”

Grace Salieri came back. “Yep, Tiburon and his boys were up in Oxnard at The Deuces two nights ago. They play The Shack the next two days.” She sat down behind her desk.

“Great, Gracie, thanks,” Bob said. He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Sax’ll ask if that’s where the client saw the La Bamba band he liked. If it is, old Jake has a nice fat commission.”

She laughed. “Get out of here, Bob Andrews.”

Outside the office, Bob winked at Jupiter as they hurried back down the dusty stairs to his bug.

“Even if Gracie tells Jake, all he’ll see is easy money. And now we know Tiburon was in Oxnard when Ty was.”

“And The Shack is a pizza cafe that we can get into,” Jupiter said. “If Ty is out of jail, maybe he can identify Tiburon. If not, we can talk to Tiburon and maybe get some answers.”

“When?”

“Tonight. We’ll meet at HQ,” Jupiter said. “Then we’ll go to The Shack and talk to El Tiburon and the Piranhas.”