Naked Frame (15 page)

"We'll be okay as long as we stay low. That
lumber is our bullet-proof vest," said Rebecca.

"I hope they're not smart enough to shoot
the gas tank or the tires."

As they made it out of the marina onto the
two lane road, the truck continued to pick up speed. Soon they were
doing 60 mph.

But the Impala was coming up fast from
behind.

"Don't let them come up beside us," said
Gabby, "or we're dead."

"I've got it covered," said Rebecca.

Every time the Impala tried
to pull up next to the truck, Rebecca steered the truck to that
side and blocked it. She tried to do it without touching the car,
knowing that a fender ding could send the driver of the Impala into
a rage. Right now, he was just doing a job. But mess up his car,
and it would become
personal
.

"We can't outrun this guy," said Gabby. "And
when we get to the freeway, he'll be able to pass us—"

"—and shoot us through the door." Rebecca
veered sharply to the right, into the grass. The truck began to
bounce on the uneven, bumpy ground.

"What are you doing?" said Gabby.

"His car can't handle this."

"I'm not sure this truck can handle it
either."

"But did you see the way the front his car
was jacked up? His rear is going to drag bottom."

The headlights followed them into the
grass.

Gabby looked back, "They're gaining on
us."

Bullets hit the truck, but most were
absorbed by the lumber in the bed.

"I hope the tailgate holds," said Rebecca.
"Because if that baby falls open..."

Gabby peeked over the seat to look back.
"They're slowing down. I think they stopped."

"Great. It worked."

"Now, can you get us back onto the
road."

Rebecca steered to the left. "It's a pretty
good slope. I hope we can make it back up."

"Maybe it would help if we dump the
wood."

"Yeah, we might have to."

Gabby looked back. "The tailgate's open on
one side. One of those bullets must have hit the bracket.

Gabby saw the Impala struggling to U-turn
and go back up the way it came down.

The truck had slowed to 5 mph by the time
they drove back onto the road.

"That was too close," said Gabby. He looked
back. "Oh, shit! Here they come."

Rebecca downshifted, and floored the
accelerator. Soon they were up to 50 mph.

"They're coming up fast."

They heard bullets hitting metal. They were
now at 65 mph.

Gabby said, "Please. Not the tires."

They heard a bullet hit solid metal,
followed by a loud clang.

"What was that?" said Rebecca.

Gabby took a peek. "There went the
tailgate."

More shots rang out.

"Watch out for that pothole," said
Gabby.

Rebecca swerved. At 70 mph, she was afraid
the giant hole in the road could pop a tire or rip out the axel.
The front tire cleared it, but the left rear tire hit it—dead
center.

The back of the truck dropped and bounced
up. The lumber in the bed hung suspended in midair for a moment,
and crashed back to the bed. But now the jostled pile of wood was
repositioned—a foot or so away from the cab. One of the top pieces
was at a tipping point—about to fall onto the road.

"I've got an idea," said Gabby. "We need to
hit another pothole."

"Are you kidding me? That last one nearly
wreck us."

"Yeah, but if you do it again I think it
will dump some of our lumber."

"And hit the car."

"Hopefully."

"That might work."

"There—coming up on the left side of the
road. Can you hit it?"

"I'm gonna try."

More bullets sprayed the truck.

"Hang on," said Rebecca, aiming for the
pothole.

She hit it with the front tire and the back.
The lumber did a double bounce.

"That wasn't enough," said Gabby. "No, wait.
There goes one."

The board fell out of the bed, and flew down
the road. The driver of the Impala apparently didn't see it in
time.

"Bulls-eye!" said Gabby. "He's got a new
hood ornament." He laughed. "That can't be good for the
engine."

Bullets pelted the truck.

"The only bad thing is, if we drop too much
lumber," said Rebecca, "we're not going to be bullet proof
anymore."

"There goes another board. Whoa, it's
airborne. Oh, God!"

"What happened?"

"It went through the windshield. The car's
going off the road. It's slowing down. I think that board was a
direct hit—to the driver's head."

"Well, I'm sorry if somebody had to die. But
I'm glad it wasn't us."

CHAPTER 35 - Tuesday, 11:15 p.m.

The old pickup made it to the used car lot
where Gabby's car was parked. They searched the area and found
their cell phones, as well as Rebecca's holster and pistol. The
phones were banged up, but still working. They got into Gabby's car
and drove away.

Rebecca had missed a call from Wendy, her
secretary. She called her back with the phone on speaker.

"Hey, Wendy. Sorry I missed your call."

"Rebecca, where are you?" She sounded
funny.

"I'm...out and about—working on a case."

"Well, I went out earlier to pick up some
baby formula and I passed by the office, and..."

Rebecca cringed. "You didn't go into the
office did you?"

"Well, your car was there and the door was
unlocked."

"Oh, Wendy..."

"So, I went in. But you weren't there. And I
thought that was so weird, and—"

"—you went into my office?"

"Yeah."

"So, you called the police?"

Wendy hesitated. "Why would I call the
police? Because the door was unlocked?"

"No, Wendy. What did you find in my
office?"

"Nothing. Well, your dad's old gun case was
sitting on your desk. And I thought that was odd since you usually
keep it locked in a drawer, but—"

"—so, there was nothing on the floor?"

"What do you
mean?
"

"You didn't see anything usual—other than
the gun case?"

"No, that was all. Are you okay,
Rebecca?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. So, you locked the
door?"

"Yes, of course."

"Thank you so much, Wendy. And take tomorrow
off. I'm giving you a paid holiday."

"Oh, thank you, Rebecca."

"Goodnight."

"What the hell?" said Gabby.

"Are you sure Big Bill was dead?"

"I thought he was. He was definitely on the
floor."

"So, you're not sure he was dead?"

"Well, like I told you—half his face was
blown off."

"But you didn't check his pulse?"

"No. I didn't want to touch him. I don't
like touching dead people."

"What if he's not dead? What if somebody
came in and got him. Took him to the hospital."

"I suppose that's possible. But why would
they clean up the mess?"

"Yeah, that doesn't make sense."

"What if he wanted to make
you
think
you had
killed him?"

"Or think I had been framed."

"Yeah."

"I don't get it," said Rebecca. "But one
thing's for sure. Joey Ketrousie wants us dead."

"Well, now we can go to the police. Let them
protect us."

"I don't know. It could be a trap."

"But if you're innocent..."

"I know. I just need to think about
this."

Gabby pulled into the motel parking lot and
drove up to their room. Rebecca looked around to see if anybody was
watching them. They got out of the car and went inside.

"We're not the only ones who thought Big
Bill was dead," said Rebecca.

"Yeah. Kimberly and Joey apparently thought
so."

"And what about Wiley? And how about Harvey
Hamstel and Phillipa Thagery? Did they think he was dead too? And
if so, why? Who told them? Or were they in on the scam?"

"Maybe they're not. Maybe Big Bill faked his
own death to see who he could trust."

"Yeah," said Rebecca, "that does sound like
something he might do."

"And if he's alive, maybe he's the one who
killed Carly...and Calvin. He could have even been the one who
burned down my shop."

"This is a real tangled mess," said Rebecca.
"We've got to find Big Bill. There's a website that lets you search
for owners of property. We can search on his name and see all the
properties he owns. Maybe he's hiding out at one of them."

"Great idea."

Gabby took out his smartphone. They found
the site and ran the search.

"Oh," said Rebecca, "look at this property.
It's outside of town."

"It's just a piece of land. Acreage."

"Let's plug that address into Google Maps
and see what we get."

"Okay."

When it came up, Rebecca said, "What's that?
Zoom in."

"Looks like a barn."

"That could be it."

"You really think a wealthy guy like Big
Bill would hide out in a barn?"

"Maybe it's
not
a barn. Maybe it
just
looks
like a
barn. Besides, we don't know when this picture was
taken."

"That's true. These images are not
real-time."

"Look, I know it seems like I'm grasping at
straws, but I've got to go out there."

"No. You're right. It's the
only lead we've got. I just hope we don't piss off anybody else,
and make
them
want
to kill us too."

CHAPTER 36 - Tuesday, 11:48 p.m.

Gabby drove slowly along the black abyss
between two fields of moonlit grass. The vibration from the tires
assured him they were still on the dirt road.

Rebecca leaned forward and squinted.
"There's the barn. See the light? And I think there's car out
front. Let's park here and walk the rest of the way."

Gabby pulled over and killed the engine.
They got out and started walking toward the barn. "Don't you think
I should have a gun too? I could carry your dad's old gun."

"Have you ever fired one?"

"No. But I'm sure I could do it—if I had to.
We don't know how many people are in there, or what kind of weapons
they have."

"But we've got the element of surprise."

"I hope that's enough."

Rebecca stopped walking and reached into her
pocket. "Here, take this."

Gabby held out his hand.
"A
pager?
What am
I supposed to do with this? Throw it at him?"

"It's not a pager. It's a high-voltage stun
gun. Don't let the size fool you. That thing is powerful."

"Yeah, but I have to be close enough to
touch him with it, right? I'd rather have a gun. A big gun."

"Look. You turn it on here, press the
electrodes against his skin, and push this button."

"What if he touches me when I do it? Won't
it shock me too?"

"No."

"Okay. Thanks." He put it in his pants
pocket.

Now within twenty feet, Rebecca realized
there was no light coming from the barn. What she had seen was
moonbeams reflected off the metallic blue finish of a brand new
Mustang parked out front. And right beside it was a black Maserati
GranTurismo. Big Bill's car.

Gabby followed Rebecca to the back of the
Mustang. Before Rebecca could decide what to do next, lights came
on. Powerful lights, all around them. She and Gabby might as well
have been standing on the pitcher's mound in Rangers Ballpark.
There was no place to hide.

An amplified voice said, "Why it's Rebecca
Ranghorn and her sidekick, Gabby G'Blee."

They looked at each other and said it in
unison. "Big Bill."

"Don't be afraid, guys. Would you like to
come in?"

The front of the barn didn't look like a
barn at all. More like a fortress. The door opened.

"Come on in."

They walked into the building.

"Walk forward, then right, please," said Big
Bill over the speakers.

The door automatically closed behind them.
They followed Big Bill's directions, which led them into a large
room. There was a young man working at a computer terminal with his
back to them. He seemed oblivious to their arrival.

And there was Big Bill, to the right,
sitting atop a two-foot high platform, in a huge Captain Kirk style
swivel chair. "Welcome."

The back wall was covered with large
flat-panel displays of what appeared to be live video feeds from
cameras in Café Nue, including one in Joey Ketrousie's office.
Another camera captured Phillipa Thagery working in a lab coat.
Still another was trained on Kimberly Smotherburn's bedroom. She
was sitting at a dresser, brushing her hair. Even Calvin Cinaway's
garage had been equipped with a hidden camera.

Then Rebecca saw her office. "You
bastard."

Big Bill chuckled. "I suppose you'd like an
explanation."

"Yeah," said Rebecca, "and I'm really
disappointed that you're not dead."

"Well, I would think you'd be relieved that
you won't be charged with my murder."

"You sure looked dead to me," said
Gabby.

Big Bill laughed. "Yeah, Wiley is quite
talented with special effects makeup—the kind they use for movies.
He used to scare the neighbors half to death at Halloween. One time
a lady called 911. She thought somebody had taken an axe to his
face."

"But what was the point?" said Rebecca. "Why
did you go to all that trouble just to make us think you were
dead?"

"I wanted to frustrate you—to put you on the
defensive, and make you do crazy things. And it worked."

"But somebody fired her gun," said
Gabby.

" Oh, yeah. Sorry about the hole in your
ceiling, Rebecca." said Big Bill. But I guess it doesn't matter
since you're going to prison."