The Chocolate Falcon Fraud (20 page)

Suddenly I was a bit nervous. Then I assured myself that all was well. Tess was probably refreshing her makeup. Combing her hair. Resting her feet. And I shouldn't leave the booth.

Five more minutes went by, and Tess didn't come. My nervousness was growing. Should I call Bodyguard Bob from inside the theater? What would be the point of that? He couldn't go into the ladies' room. Of course, I could go there. But I couldn't leave the booth. I bit a nail and stared toward the main lobby, willing Tess to come into the dealers' room.

It seemed like a gift when Mary Kay McCurley came through the door, apparently checking on how the film festival was going.

I waved when I saw her. “Mary Kay! Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure, especially if it means I can sit down.”

I gestured at the empty chair. “Have a seat for as long as you
like. I need to run into the ladies' room. Oh, and these are for you.” I pulled the small box of truffles I'd brought her out of my purse and shoved it at her ungraciously.

She
ooh
ed, but I didn't take time to reply. I simply loaded myself onto my crutch and headed for the lobby and the proper door. I shoved it open and rushed inside. And the door banged into Tess.

“Tess!” I said. “Are you all right!”

“Oh, Lee!” Her voice trembled.

Behind her was a slender young woman in a vintage black suit. A black hat with a rather thick veil was tipped over her forehead, almost hiding her eyes and her svelte hairstyle.

But I recognized her. “Oshawna Bridges!”

“Shut up!” Her voice was harsh. And in her hand was an automatic pistol.

I can now testify to how mesmerizing a gun can be. I looked at the pistol, and I obeyed Oshawna's every command.

She kept her gun low, right in Tess' back and out of sight of any other people. Of course, there weren't many other people around. Nearly all the film fans were in the theater watching Bogart and Bacall.

I tried to remember Aunt Nettie's example, when she had simply told “Wilmer” to stop acting silly the afternoon before. But I wasn't able to do it. I told myself I couldn't endanger Tess. But the actual reason I obeyed Oshawna was that I simply couldn't think straight. I was so mesmerized that I couldn't visualize anything I could do that might help Tess and me.

The boldest thing I did was reach into my pocket. This action made Oshawna poke me in the ribs with her pistol. “Hands where I can see them,” she said. “No funny business.”

I took my hand out of my pocket, fast. I hadn't found anything more helpful than a wadded-up Kleenex anyway.

Oshawna, Tess, and I, clumped together like the closest of friends, walked across the lobby. My crutch thumped, but I kept
up. I longed to see Bodyguard Bob come out of the theater, but he didn't.

When we reached the front door, Tess shoved it open. We walked across a slab of concrete that formed a porch and went down the steps. I had to slow down and hobble, but Oshawna waited patiently.

I went down the steps looking at my feet, but when I reached the drive I looked up. And I was staring straight into the face of Noel Kayro. He was standing beside a large black sedan, holding the door to the backseat open.

His voice was still a Peter Lorre hiss, and he smiled a Peter Lorre smile. “So you had to bring both of them,” he said. “Get into the car, Mrs. Woodyard.”

He put his hand in his pocket. Something there pointed at me. Did he have a gun? I wasn't sure, but I decided not to chance it.

Tess and I got into the back, and Oshawna got into the front. She faced backward, kneeling, watching us alertly. The gun was between the front seats, clearly in our sight. But the sedan's side windows were heavily tinted. The interior of the car would only be visible through the windshield. And there was no one in front of the car to look in at us.

Kayro closed the doors with a polite flourish, then went around the car and got into the driver's seat.

I finally spoke, if you can call croaking like a frog speaking. “Where are you taking us?”

“Never mind,” Oshawna said. “Do what we say, and you won't get hurt.”

Looking back, I again tell myself that I might have done something more assertive, like opening the car door and getting
out, but Tess had my right arm in a death grip. Maybe that's only an excuse. Maybe I couldn't do anything because I was scared spitless.

So Tess and I sat quietly in the backseat while the sedan drove across the grounds of Warner Point. I recognized where we were, of course. I'd become familiar with the whole property before Joe got rid of it, and I recognized our route. I knew that the most secluded space out there was the boathouse, and that was where we were going.

When the original buildings were being planned and built, Joe had told me, his wife and her architects handled everything. The only place Joe had any input was the boathouse. He and an architect—a junior member of the big-name firm that designed the estate—came up with what they considered a prizewinning design. Then the landscape designers carefully hid the boathouse area behind trees and bushes. Men can't admit these things, but I knew the whole episode had hurt Joe's feelings.

Now that Warner Point was a conference center, the boathouse was rarely used, and the whole place was overgrown.

When the sedan stopped, Oshawna ordered Tess and me out of the car, still pointing the gun in our direction, and forced us into the boathouse itself. There we found a power boat, a Bayliner, with two rows of seats. Tess and I were motioned into the backseats.

Motions can be so expressive when they include pointing a gun.

Oshawna got into the front and knelt facing us. “Turn around,” she said.

“How?” I said. I tried to sound mystified.

“Don't act stupid! Drop to your knees and put your heads down on the seat.”

After Tess and I had obeyed, Oshawna pulled out a blanket from somewhere and threw it over us. Almost immediately the Bayliner's motor started, and we took off.

It was a miserable ride. I'm not a good sailor. My tummy gets mighty queasy if there are waves. Riding on my knees backward with my head down doesn't help.

I will admit that the thought of jumping overboard did occur to me. Maybe if I grabbed Tess' arm and pulled her along with me, we'd make it. But rapidly following that idea was the recollection that Tess could not swim. No, if I did anything dramatic, such as yanking Tess out of the boat, I'd have to keep hold of her and keep her from sinking. I'm a fair swimmer, though far from expert like Joe and Jeff both, but I didn't think I could keep another person afloat for very long. Even if I shed the boot on my left leg. Especially if someone was shooting at us.

Plus, with the blanket over our heads I had no idea where we were. We might have been in the Warner River, since that was where the boathouse was. Of course, we were traveling faster than was legal in the river, but Oshawna and Kayro were not handicapped by obeying any rules. We might just as well be headed out into Lake Michigan. If we jumped into the river, we'd have weeds and stuff growing on the bottom to contend with. But if the boat got well out into Lake Michigan, we might have to swim several miles to reach shore.

I stayed still.

The ride seemed to go on forever. Eventually the motor became quieter, and I could tell that the boat was slowing. That was when my queasy stomach really began to act up, of course. For a seasick person, there's nothing worse than a boat just sitting there and wallowing around in waves. It got so bad I didn't
care if Oshawna shot me. I tossed the blanket back and leaned over the side. What happened next wasn't pretty.

Oshawna didn't shoot me. No, she laughed hysterically. If I had been the one with the gun—but that was just wishful thinking. A person who
laughs
at a fellow human being seasick deserves anything bad that could happen to her.

As soon as I could look up, I did, and over my head I saw a big boat. On the stern were the words “La Paloma.” Somehow I wasn't surprised. Stealing Grossmann's boat was barely a crime for Noel Kayro and Oshawna Bridges, considering what they'd already done. And Grossman had already told us he was flying to Buffalo that day, so he wasn't around to object.

Tess and I were hustled out of the boat and onto the swim platform, the aft area used for the convenience of swimmers and water skiers. Then we were hustled past the companionway and into the lower deck.

As I hustled, I tried to scan our surroundings. I saw nothing. We were out in Lake Michigan, far from land. There wasn't a single boat in sight, and we could not see the shore. The sun was still high. Without a GPS or at least a compass, we had no way to tell where we were or even which direction was which.

I did notice that Oshawna had taken off her little veiled hat and had added a scarf to her outfit. Kayro had popped on a ball cap. The new head coverings had made them look like regular boaters as we traveled down the river and out into the lake. They weren't missing a trick.

I had paused, and Oshawna snarled at me. “Get a move on!”

Tess and I kept moving, and we were quickly stashed in one of the crew staterooms. The door slammed, and there we were.

“I suppose that door is locked,” I said.

“I noticed a bolt screwed to the doorframe,” Tess said. “Outside.”

“Good for you! I came right in without noticing a thing.”

“I'm sorry about this, Lee. I guess they think taking me will make it easier to get Jeff.”

“I imagine you're right. At any rate, there's no monetary reason to stash me on a yacht. Joe and I barely make the mortgage every month. Unless they simply want me to die a miserable death!”

I hobbled rapidly into an attached bathroom—excuse me, on a boat it's a “head.” There I tossed the rest of my cookies.

Once I could manage to get up off my knees, I rinsed my mouth, then found a washrag and washed my face.

“Wow!” I said. “I hope they aim this thing into the waves as quickly as possible, or we'll all have terminal seasickness.”

“I've never had motion sickness,” Tess said.

“Lucky you. They say you eventually ‘find your sea legs.' After a few days. I've never found mine.”

I found an easy chair, sat down, and tipped my head back. “I suppose you don't have a cell phone in your bra.”

“No.”

“Rotten of them to snatch us without giving us time to get our purses. I could sure use a breath mint.”

We were both trying to put brave faces on the whole thing, but I'm afraid my voice trembled.

Tess began to roam around the stateroom, but I stayed in my easy chair. For the moment I was queasy, but not actually sick. This made me afraid to move, for fear that movement would change the situation.

I watched Tess prowl. In my depleted state, I couldn't figure
out why she was bothering. The room had obviously been prepared for captives. I let my eyes roam around. No knives on the dresser waiting for Oshawna and Noel to come in so we could attack them. No way to sabotage the boat's motor. No clubs, guns, or other defensive weapons. No battering rams we could use to knock the door down.

Tess was being more aggressive than I was. At least she was exploring her surroundings, trying to figure out how to do something about our situation. I simply sat like a lump, a miserable lump with a washing machine agitator in my tum.

In a few minutes, however, my stomach settled to a dull swish, and I also began to think about our situation.

Desperate. That was our situation. I fought down panic. There was no reason for Kayro and Oshawna to let us go. If their plan didn't go well, they could simply shove us overboard and forget we had ever existed. If we were lucky, our bodies would drift onto one of west Michigan's beautiful beaches in a couple of weeks.

My middle grew turbulent again. I got up and once more hobbled into the head. How wonderful that we had it!

When I came out, Tess greeted me with a finger to her lips. “Shhh.” The sound was very quiet. She came to my side and murmured softly, “Keep quiet. If I put my ear against the wall under that vent, I can hear them talking. That might mean they can hear us.”

I hobbled over to the spot she indicated and put my ear against the wall.

But I didn't hear voices. I heard the roar of a boat's motor.

I nearly screamed. Were we pulling out? But the boat we were on kept pitching in the same pattern.

“It's the Bayliner,” I said, keeping my voice to a whisper. “One of them has left the yacht. Maybe both of them.”

Tess and I monitored the area near the vent, but for more than an hour we heard not a sound. Then we heard the motor boat returning. Tess and I stayed at our listening post, but we heard nothing but steps and faraway voices.

Then the noises were outside our own door. Guiltily we jumped away from the vent. I fell onto the bed and tried to look as if I'd been napping. Tess sat in a chair and stared as the door swung open.

Jeff stood in the doorway.