The Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries 1-3 (66 page)

I was
loading the dishwasher after the non-denizens of my house had left, listening
to Harry berate me with only half an ear.

"So,
you're quitting, just when we need you."

"I
already said Dave could stay here, and you could use my car and our house.  You
don't need me, you need my stuff."

"But
what about your responsibilities?"

"Now,
you stop right there.  My responsibilities?  My responsibility is to stay alive
because if I die, Noelle will kill you.  What about Alex?  You're only thinking
of yourself."

"But
we make such a good team, you and I," Harry whined.

"Harry,
you’re a force all by yourself.  I'm only brave when I'm drinking and AA
meetings are not too far off for me.  You need to be with people who train for
this kind of thing.  Although, I think you're too pretty for the
military."

Harry
blushed, "Okay, but if I need you?"

"You
know I'll be there.  Now get some sleep, you’ve a busy day tomorrow, I
imagine."

"Wanna
know what we're doing?"

"Nope,"
I said, drying my hands.  "I need my car in the morning so you'll have to
share with Buslowski."

"We’re
going together anyway.  Where are you going?"

"Shopping."
I smiled.

Harry left
the kitchen.  I opened the pantry and stared at the whisky bottle inside.  I
left it there and went into the den to say goodnight to Dave who was pounding
the keys of my computer.  I didn't want to know what he was doing, but I did
want to warn him about something. "Dave."

He looked
up.  "Yes?"

"Don't
give Harry a gun because he doesn't know how to use one."  I sat down
facing him.  "Do you really have to resume looking for these guys?"

"I'm
afraid so."

"Be
careful," I said, getting back up.  "I already have one rabid woman
hating me.  I don't want your wife joining her."

He
smiled.  "Too late.”  His smile weakened.  “Don't worry, this is what I
do."

"Night,"
I said, walking out.

"Night,"
he said, resuming his pounding of the computer keys.

I decided
that I might as well call it a night.  Television didn't interest me, and the
book I had been reading had mysteriously disappeared off the coffee table -
Harry most likely.  It took a while before sleep came, but when it did it was
filled with dreams.

Have you
ever had one of those dreams where you wake up into another dream? I'm not
talking sleep paralysis but an inner dream.  Things seem like you’re awake: you
can smell scents, feel temperature changes, and if we were living in a comic
book world it would be like entering another dimension.  Well, that is what
happened to me.

I awoke to
the feeling that someone was sitting on my bed.  I hoped it was Harry just
trying to convince me to stay with the program.  If it was Buslowski, well, I
would certainly throw him out of the house.  I mean where did he get off?  But
it wasn't.  It was Dwayne.

"You're
dead," I said, sitting up.

"Am
I?" he said as he stood up and held out his hand.  "Come."

"If
you're not dead then you're one of the bad guys."

"Cin,
you know me.  I wouldn't leave my children to the world these terrorists want
to have."

"If
you're not dead, where are you?"

"Come."
 He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of bed.  As soon as my feet touched the
floor the room disappeared.  Oh boy, this had that whole
Christmas Carol
feel to it.  We were flying into the night, but the sky got lighter as we
headed west. 

"Look."
He pointed downward at the previous day.  I saw the truck leaving, but he
wasn't driving it.  Wait.  Did I actually see him driving it?  Did Father David
actually see him driving it?  I guess we both assumed. 

"Who
died in the explosion?  Where are you?"

"Look."
 He pointed to the landscape trucks driving away.  Sure enough, there were
crates in back.  I found myself in the bed of one of the trucks looking at each
crate.  One of the crates had holes drilled in it.  It was a long crate, almost
coffin sized.

"Where
are you?" I asked.

"I’m
with my children.  Find them, and you'll find me."  And then he was gone,
and I was left at the side of the road.

"At
least you could have given me a ride home!" I screamed.

The sound
of me screaming in my dream woke me up.  I looked at the clock.  It was almost
midnight, barely an hour had passed.  Well, if the ghosts of Christmas could do
it, so could Dwayne.  The memory of his warning got me out of bed, “Be careful
you don't become a ghost.”  If this were a comic book world then that's where
he got the idea.  Or was it my idea?  Dreams were funny sometimes.  Sometimes
they helped you work out problems.  Or bring them to the surface.  I tugged on
a robe and went looking for Dave.

He was
still pounding on the keys of the computer.

"Are
you in a chat room?" I said, and he jumped out of his chair.

"You
scared the shit out of me," he said, settling down. "No, I'm trying
to write my wife an apology."

I walked
around the desk and rolled the chair with him in it back a little.  "Here."
 I leaned over the keyboard and typed:

I'm sorry I
was such an inconsiderate bastard.  Love, Dave

"Direct
and to the point.  She doesn't want a manifesto.  She just wants an apology.  She
already knows you're a bastard when it comes to putting your work first.  Hell,
I've experienced it first hand, or first thumb."  I stopped and wiggled my
thumbs and for the last time played the thumb cuffs card.  "She needs you
around sometimes,Dave, even if it's just to mow the lawn."

"I
work hard at my job so she can have stuff," Dave defended.

"She
doesn't want stuff.  She wants you.”

"Is
there anything else or are you going to yell at me all night?" Dave asked.

I moved
back to the other side of the desk.  "Did you see who was driving the
rental van?"

"No,
I never got close enough.  He had quite a head start, and I was supposed to
tail him, not ride his bumper."

"Good
thing for you as it turns out.  I was racking my brain, and I don't think I saw
Dwayne actually driving away."

"The
group consensus is that the explosion from the van was not only a diversionary
tactic but was supposed to take out whoever was tailing it."

"Was
there a body in the van?"

"According
to the crime scene team, yes, there was a human driving the van."

"You
see that's where I’ve a problem.  If it was a suicide mission, I can't see
Dwayne volunteering for it.  He just doesn't fit the profile."

"It's
possible he didn't know what he was carrying in the van.  Father David thought
he seemed genuine."

"Dwayne
never did anything fast.  He was always late.  He was very laid back.  I saw
that van speed out of the parking lot."

"It
was going pretty fast for a canal road," Dave said, rubbing his chin.  "I
had to slow down to navigate over some potholes and was surprised that the van
was still in sight."

"It
had to wait for you.  Dwayne would have been oblivious to being tailed," I
reasoned.  "Dave, call this a gut feeling, but I don't think that Dwayne
is dead, and I don't think he was part of this."

"That
makes him a hostage or dead."

"There
were some long boxes in the back of the trucks, weren't there?"

"That's
what Father Thomas saw."

"Did
he follow them?"

"Now
if you weren't pigheaded you would have gotten this all first hand at the
meeting."

"Well?"
I asked, ignoring his comment.

"He
followed them north but lost them where the road forks up by the fish camps. 
The two trucks split up, and the one he followed got on the highway and was
long gone before he caught up."

"They're
still there on the east side of the lake.  I don't know how I know - let’s call
it a gut feeling.  Dwayne may still be alive, but why they are keeping him
alive is the question."

"Hostages
are for leverage, but they assume we think that he died in the explosion.  What
kind of leverage would he be?"

"The
kids," answered a sleepy voice from the doorway.  "He knows the kids,
and they know him.  They love him."  Harry yawned.

"My
God, they're going to use the school in some way, the kids!"  Dave reached
for the phone.

I grabbed
his hand.  "Wait, if you go out there now they’ll just kill Dwayne and go
into hiding again.  We need to figure out why they need Dwayne and the
kids."

"Hostages,"
suggested Harry.  "They take the school hostage and blow it up when help
arrives."

"Not
big enough.  The place is isolated.  Even with the first responders they could
impact less than a hundred individuals."  Dave pulled his hand away from
mine.

Pushing
away the embarrassment that I was still holding his hand, I pictured the
school.  “The buildings, the teachers.”

"The
buses!"  I turned to Harry who had caught up to me in thought.

"They're
going to blow up the buses in a place that they could do the most damage."

"The
air show!"  Harry and I said together.

Harry
pointed a finger at me.  "You owe me a coke."

"Grow
up," I said.

"Children,
back to business," Dave interrupted.  "They wouldn't be able to get
empty buses by security down there, and they couldn't handle a bus full of
adult hostages, not after 9/11.  They would fight back."

"So,
the bastards are going to use the children.  And Dwayne is the lure.  They
would trust him, the children and the teachers.  We can't let this
happen!" I cried.

"Hang
on a minute."  Harry pushed on me gently until I sat down.  "The show
is on Saturday.  The kids wouldn't be in preschool on a Saturday."

"Not
unless this was a scheduled outing."

"Who
takes preschoolers to an air show?" Harry questioned.

"No
one in their right mind.  They would be all over the place.  They wouldn't be
interested in the planes," I said calming down.  "Okay, I see your
point.  But why hang on to Dwayne?"

"I
think you're right about the buses.  Do they loan the buses out?"

"I
don't know.  But could you see a busload of terrorists getting by
security?"

"They’re
green and white buses aren't they?" Dave asked.  "Seems to me, I've
seen adults on those buses before.  On Sundays."

"Maybe
the local churches use them to transport parishioners to church or..." I
started.

"Other
functions," Harry filled in.  "Like a trip to the air show."

"They
wouldn't know that there was a bomb on the bus or buses.  So they wouldn't
fight back.  The driver wouldn't even know or the passengers wouldn't be
surprised if the driver was someone they didn't know - after all, he’s just a
driver."

"Why
Dwayne?" I asked again.  "Why keep him alive?"

"Cin,
he could be part of this," Harry said gently.

"He
wouldn't put his children in danger.  He wouldn't.  He could have talked the
school into loaning the buses for a fee. I can see him being duped, but?"

"I
think we have to assume he's dead."

I didn't
want to tell them that in my dream he was alive.  I felt we were on the right
track here.  "I think that they’ll use him to get the buses.  I think that
this is plan B, and they need to get their drivers in the seats of those buses
and get them armed."

"They
could be doing it now," suggested Harry.

I shook my
head.  "No, because today's Friday, and they still have to transport the
children to and from school.  The roads are full of potholes out there.  They
wouldn't risk a premature explosion that would blow Plan B.  They're coming for
the busses after school tonight."

"How
can we find out who’s going to be on those buses without tipping off the bad
guys?" Harry asked.

"I
think it's time to talk to the feds.  At least warn them not to allow any buses
from the school in," Dave suggested.

"Or
anywhere near civilization, but we don't want to tip off the terrorists.  We
can't let them regroup."

"Let
me just say that there is a strong rumor.  Okay, let's call the others and put
those priests to work.

Due to the
late hour, we opted to conference call the Williams's condo instead of
meeting.  The tinny quality of the speakerphone was difficult to get used to at
first.  Dave went over what he, Harry and I had discussed, and we sifted through
the questions and ideas of the priests, Michael included.

"I
think we can all agree that the main goal is to not only stop them from
attacking the air show, be it from the air or by bus, but to also capture all
involved," Father Thomas spoke with calm authority.  "We’re going to
have to divide up if we’re going to cover the airport and the school
grounds."

"Do
you think they’re still going to use the airport?" Dave questioned. 

"They
have the materials and the manpower.  It would be foolish of us to not cover
both places."

"My
main worry is that there could be a hostage situation at the school if they get
wind of us.  Cin seems to think that Dwayne is still alive, and they’re using
him to access the school."

"Well,
we need to put people over there before the school opens.  Of course they may
be thinking the same thing, but maybe we'll get lucky."

"I
think we should find them before they head for the school," I spoke up. 
"We don't want them anywhere close to those kids."

"How
do we do that?  We don't know where they are.  I think we should split up.  Dave,
you and Harry head over to the airport.  Father Paul and I will meet you
there.  Father David and Father Peter will recon the school.  Michael will
liaison between us and the local law enforcement, not to mention the
feds."

"Sounds
good on this end," Dave said as Harry nodded.

I
whispered in Harry's ear that I needed to use his cell, and he gave it to me
absentmindedly.  I took it into my bedroom and searched Harry's directory for
Betty's cell number.  I found it and texted her: “I think I can find them…want
in?  Cin.”

I quickly
changed the ring tone to vibrate, and before long I received a message back: 
“Yes b there by 5am dress tough.”

I sent:
“Understood ready @ 5.”

I cleared
the messages and call history out of the phone and wandered back into the den. 
They were still discussing details that didn't involve me, so I gave Harry his
phone and headed back into my room where I went into my walk-in closet and
reached for my suitcase.  Inside I found the small box I hid there after
returning from England.  In it was one wicked knife, courtesy of
Devon/Cornwall's finest. 

At four
a.m.  Dave and Harry quietly left, and at five I thought a thunderstorm had
broken out as a Harley Davidson pulled into the driveway.  I wasn't surprised
to see Betty driving it.  Nor was I surprised to see the gun she had pushed
into the back of the waistband of her jeans as I climbed aboard the bike.  I
pulled down her leather jacket to conceal the weapon.  I put the helmet on she
gave me, more for disguise than safety, and we left my neighborhood and headed
west towards Lake Okeechobee.

We had
worked out a code of me squeezing her right or left side when I wanted her to
turn that direction.  With the sun rising behind us, we traveled the roads
hunting terrorists.

It was
right after we had turned north when I saw a familiar sight.  I motioned for
Betty to stop.  Out in a recently harvested cane field was a USDA Natural
Resources Conservation Service survey truck.  I took a chance that one of the
team would be someone I knew from when I used to work there.  I was rewarded by
the sight of Sugar Booger - not his name of course, but it was what I called
him after finding out this was his wife's pet name for him.  He's what the city
folks would label a cracker, but they would be oh so wrong.  Sugar held a
teaching degree in history, knew his bible inside out and would proudly
proclaim himself a macho man.  I doubted this, knowing how he washed the floors
of the house for his wife.  Sugar would shake his head and say this was because
he didn't want his wife to do heavy chores.  Well, we all could use a little
more of his attitude around here, I think.

I took off
my helmet and carefully made my way through the muck field.  I didn't have to
announce my presence as he had me in the site of his viewer before I even got
off the bike.

"Well,
if it isn't Cindy Fin-Lathen," he said, readjusting his tripod.

He was the
only one I allowed to call me Cindy, all six feet 2 inches of him.  "Sugar
Booger, you ready to run off with me yet?"

He
colored.  "Now what would the misses have to say about that?"  He
looked back at Betty who was adjusting something on the hog.  "You mind
telling me what you're doing up so early, dressed up like a Hell’s Angel?"

"Charmer.
 Actually, it's a lame disguise.  My friend and I are looking for a group of
landscapers that are up to no good."

"I
heard you were running around the world cutting people up.  These guys you're
looking for nasty?"  Sugar wiped his brow with a crisp handkerchief.

"The
nastiest.  They have a friend of mine.  I think they're going to kill him,
maybe kill a lot of friends of mine," I said, looking him in the eyes.

"I
know I shouldn't ask, but isn't this a job for Superman?"

"Superman's
busy looking elsewhere."  I kicked a muck clod with my boot.

"Don't
know if these are your fellas, but a week or so ago, Jimmy and I were fishing
along the east shore, and we saw a group of campers that were a bit too
organized.  They had landscape trucks, and, in my opinion, the trucks were a
bit too dirty and the wheels too new to fit the job."

"East
bank, that's a lot of shoreline."

Sugar
Booger pulled something out of his back pocket.  "Cindy girl, do you
remember this little gadget?"

"It's
your GPS locator.  You don't mean…"

"I
caught a lot of fish in that spot.  I made a note."  He reached in his
flannel shirt pocket and pulled out a well-worn notebook.  He flipped through
the pages.  "Yep, here it is."  He looked at me and wagged his
finger.  "Don't get so antsy, I need to make an adjustment or else you're
going to head to my fishing spot and not the camp."  He scribbled down
some figures, then copied down the adjusted location and handed it to me.

"This
is the GPS location?"

"Yep,
I'd say correct to eight or nine feet," he said proudly.

"How'd
I get there if I don't have a GPS on me?" I asked sweetly.

"Cindy
girl, you're just not prepared.  Okay, take the road past the airport but slow
down after you pass the old Sinclair station.  The second dirt road on the left
should get you close.  I'd leave that noisy bike near the main road or you're
gonna wake those boys up.  Continue on foot, the camp grounds should be 200
yards in, give or take five feet." He smiled.

I gave him
a big hug.  "Thank you."

"I
hope thems your boys.  I'd say be careful, but you won't.  I guess that
one," He said pointing to Betty, "can take care of his...
herself."

"Yes,
she can.  Say hi to Jimmy for me."

"Oh,
I will.  Can't wait to tell him that I saw two dykes on a bike just as the sun
came up.  He won't believe me.  Take care. I don't want to have to fish you out
of my spot."

"You
won't," I assured him.

"Don't
tell anyone about that fishing spot either."

"I
won't," I said as I trudged back through the field towards Betty.

"That's
a fine looking man you were talking to," Betty said, handing me my helmet.

"If
you add observant to that I'll agree with you."  I showed her the
coordinates he had given me.  "I know how to get there.  Do you think we
should call it in?"

"How
sure is he that these are our terrorists?"

"Not
sure."

"Maybe
we better check it out first," she said, which pleased me because that's
how I wanted to handle it anyway.

We got on
the bike, and I waved to Sugar Booger who was shaking his head.  I wondered if
he could read lips.  I filled the thought as Betty and I headed out towards the
airport.

I ran
several scenarios in my head as we traveled.  One: if they were all there, we
would have to beat feet and call it in.  Two: if only some of the group was
there, then we would have to play it by ear.  I still thought beating feet
backwards was a good idea even if there was only one guy there as these zealots
were just as bad alone as in a group.  And three: It could prove to be the
wrong guys.  In that case we would have to continue searching.

A thought
struck me, as hard as several of the bugs that now adorned my helmet, that
someone at the airport had to be in on this.  Someone had to have made the
offer to Dwayne.  But who?  If we got to Dwayne in time he could tell us.  Unless
Dwayne was in on this, then we were in for a most interesting time.

We flew by
the airport, and soon we were at the turnoff.  Betty cut the engine and let the
bike roll as far as the momentum would take us on the dirt road.  We got off
and turned the bike so it faced towards the highway before covering it up with
some brush.  Betty and I worked in silence, and as we headed down towards the
camp she put a comforting arm briefly around me.  I nodded and took a deep
breath.  Show time.