The Navigators (19 page)

Barry
.

I grabbed my credit card out of my wallet and waved it at my waitress before dropping it on the table and rushing to help him. “Barry! What the hell happened to you?”

“Long story.” His t-shirt was drenched with sweat. He handed me a crutch. “Help me with these, will ya?”

Between the two of us, Barry’s ankle cast, and his crutches, we had more trouble walking through the entry than when he was doing it alone. Everything got tangled up. Finally, a waitress came over to hold the door. Barry hopped through.

“Over here,” I said, helping him to my table. “Miss? Some water for my friend, please?”

“Sure thing, hon.”

As he lowered himself into a chair, Barry winced.

“What is up with you?” I asked. “You look terrible.”

Barry’s hands were swollen and red, with some blisters starting to appear. He pulled at his armpits. “Crutches are definitely a cruel joke, I’ll tell you what.” He clacked them together and leaned them against the table. “My hands are raw and my armpits are fricking bleeding.”

“What are you doing here?”

“When Melissa was driving me to the hospital, she said she was supposed to meet you here. I took a chance.”

“Where is she now?”

“No idea. I thought she’d be with you.”

The waitress returned with some water and my credit card. “Sir, this card’s been declined.”

I was surprised, but Barry intervened. “Mine have been cancelled, too, Peeky.” He eyed the waitress and reached for his wallet, pulling out twenty dollars. He slid it across the table to her. “I’ll just pay in cash, ma’am.”

Her face turned white. “You’re the ones they’re talking about on the news, aren’t you?”

My heart stopped. She backed away from the table, holding her arms up. “We don’t want any trouble!”

I stood, floundering for some words. The waitress bumped into the counter and yelled. “Somebody call 911!”

Just then a yellow pickup truck drove into the pancake house parking lot. Barry recognized it. “Peeky!”

“What!”

He jumped up. “Run for it!”

Chapter Twenty-Two

T
he door of the yellow truck opened. “Missy!” Barry yelled, hobbling his way toward the pickup. “We need to get the hell out of here.”

Melissa’s face appeared, then went back into the truck. As the motor started, Barry opened the passenger door and fell in. I squeezed in next to him.

“What the hell’s going on?” Melissa steered the truck through the parking lot.

“The waitress figured out who we are,” Barry said.

Melissa pulled onto the street and headed east toward the interstate, squealing the tires as she did. I grabbed the dashboard. “Take it easy, you’ll draw more attention to us.”

Melissa glanced in the rear view mirror. “That’s the point.”

* * * * *

Findlay’s cell phone rang in his pocket. It was Captain Ferguson.

“What’s the good word,
el
capitan
?”

“Findlay, what do you think a college football helmet costs?”

“Why the fuck would I care about a thing like that?”

“Because one of your little friends was caught trying to steal some this morning from the practice fields. A fella by the name of Richard Franklin Fellings.”

Findlay bolted upright. “Riff? Hoo boy, this is my lucky day, isn’t it? What a bunch of screw ups I’m dealing with.”

Ferguson chuckled. “Turns out these helmets cost the school about $400 apiece.”

“Four hundred dollars for a freaking football helmet? What a rip off.” He leaned back in the chair. “No wonder tuition costs so much.”

“That may be, but seeing as Mr. Fellings was apprehended with four of them, that’s $1,600. That kicks him up to grand theft.”

“And?”

“And early today he was transferred to the custody of the Tampa Police Department. He’s been booked and has been sitting in jail all day.”

“That was this morning and they still have him? He didn’t bond out?” Findlay scratched his chin.

“Fellings gave them a fake name, so it slowed things down for a while. But when they saw our bulletins on the wire, they ID’d him. The captain there’s a buddy of mine, and he wanted to know if we’d like Fellings back or if they should keep him.”

“Hmm, what’s the smart move here, Ferg?”

“Well, if we take him back, we can question him. If they keep him, he sits in jail until he posts bond. As it is right now, he’s probably out of commission for overnight or a little longer.”

Findlay grinned. “It’s probably better if he stays out of the way for now. Riff’s pretty useless anyway, except maybe as a bargaining chip if I need one. Is any of this un-doable if I change my mind?”

“Like I said—the captain’s a friend. We can do whatever we want as long as we decide in the next 24 hours or so.”

Findlay nodded. “Then let him rot in the Tampa PD lockup for a while, getting the hell scared out of him.” He chuckled. “Maybe he can become some bubba’s girlfriend. Then if we need him for anything, he’ll be more cooperative.” Using Riff as a bargaining piece might come in handy when it came to do the next step or two. “Ferg, would the same thing apply for Roger?”

“The guy in Tampa General hospital? Sure. He’ll stay there while he recovers, but he’s up for theft of school property, too. All four of them are. Plus conspiracy to defraud, evading arrest—among other things.”

A thin smile crept across Findlay’s face. “Then let’s go ahead and arrest Roger, too.”

“Consider it done.” Ferguson hung up.

Findlay took stock of the situation.
Riff is arrested and in police custody, Roger is in intensive care at Tampa General and is about to be arrested, and Peeky has already been flipped to my side. That just leaves two little mice to catch, and without cell phones and credit cards, that won’t take very long.

* * * * *

The Motel 6 on Fowler Avenue stood a few miles west of I-75 and the pancake house, and it had one big advantage besides a swimming pool and cable TVs. Near the university and respectable enough to let parents house their friends there during graduations, a little more than sixty bucks would get a tired traveler a room for the night.

As she pulled the yellow truck into the parking lot, Melissa presented our options.

“We have to assume the people at the restaurant saw you get into this truck. But they also saw me speed east toward the interstate. From there, we could go anywhere. North, south—the cops won’t know where to look for us. That’ll buy a little time.” She glanced at Barry and me, as if to make sure we were following her logic. “By doubling back to here, we should be fine for a while.”

“Fair enough,” Barry said, “but this is a pretty easy car to spot.”

“Yeah.” Melissa pursed her lips. “We’ll have to ditch it.”

Barry checked the truck’s cab. “Is there anything in here we can use?”

A backpack rested on the floor. “Grab that,” Melissa pointed. “Peeky, see if the glove box has anything.”

Barry laid the backpack in his lap. “You gonna call Sheila and tell her what’s up?”

“No way. The less she knows the better.”

I rummaged through the overstuffed glove compartment. “There’s a pen and some tampons. CDs. Lipstick. A hair brush. Corkscrew. Several corkscrews, actually.” I smiled. “Your friend is a party girl.”

“Okay,” Melissa said. “Bring that stuff. Bring all of it. Stick it in her backpack.”

“What for?” Barry stuffed the items into the backpack.

“It’s her stuff, Barry. The least we can do is save it for her.”

“Meaning?”

Melissa sat up straight and addressed us. “Meaning, I’m going to take the car and ditch it behind the mall or an office building somewhere.” She gripped the steering wheel. “If it ends up getting stolen, at least my friend will have some of her personal shit.”

Barry peered past her to the motel office. “What’s the deal with this place? I’m not sure any of our credit cards are working anymore.”

“They aren’t,” I said. “Findlay made sure of that.”

Barry cocked his head. “How do you know?”

Oops.

I collected myself. “I mean, he
probably
did. It makes sense, right? Who else would have a reason to cut all of our credits cards off right now? Or the ability? Findlay’s a hacker. He did it, I’m sure.”

Melissa glanced at the office. “Doesn’t matter. They take cash.”

Barry opened his mouth but nothing came out.

“What? We used to come here to party freshman year. After hours stuff.” She dug into her pocket. “Everybody ante up. How much money do we have?”

“I have a twenty.” Barry shrugged. “I left the rest on the table when we fled the damned pancake house.”

I dropped my cash into Melissa’s hand. “All I have is two dollars.”

Barry chuckled. “What the hell, Peeky? Two dollars?”

“That’s it. Rub it in, rich guy.”

Melissa stayed focused. “Okay, okay, I’ve got… forty-one dollars. That’ll be enough. Give it to me. I’ll go get a room.”

“Hold on.” Barry peered at the office window again. “Do you think they might identify you and call the cops?”

“Good question.” She sighed. “How did that waitress know? Do you think they’ve put our pictures out on the news now?”

“No. I think she just happened to know the descriptions. We’re wearing the same clothes. Peeky was fine until I showed up. Then she put it together. The news hasn’t even announced our names.”

I was curious about that. “Why do you suppose they haven’t done that yet?”

“Because they know who we are and where we live.” Barry gritted his teeth. “Fucking Findlay saw to that. They’re trying to keep a lid on things until they find us. After that, who knows?”

I squirmed in my seat at the mention of Findlay’s name again, then gritted my teeth and stared out the window.

“Anyway,” Melissa said. “We can get a room, get cleaned up a little, and get some rest. And we can stay under the radar as long as I get rid of this big yellow Hey They’re Right Here sign that I’m driving.” She tapped the steering wheel. “Then we can go get our time machine.”

Barry stuffed the last of the glove box contents into the back pack. “You know where it is?”

“The Sun Dome. I saw them dropping it off just before I found you guys.” Melissa opened the door.

“Uh…” Barry looked at me. “Should one of us come with you?”

She guided a strand of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Sure. Which one? The guy with the broken leg or the guy from India, both of whom were just spotted by a waitress as the guys on the news?”

The door shut as Barry opened his mouth to reply.

* * * * *

“Jim, what happened?”

Findlay was angry. Even though the campus cops were working for him, he could only push things so far. He kept his anger in check and leaned in to the speakerphone at the campus police station.

“What can I say?” Officer Bolton squinted at the oncoming traffic as he prepared to make a U-turn across the grassy interstate median. “They got away.”

“How is that even possible? You were right there. You dropped Peeky off at the pancake house. All you had to do was sit in the parking lot and wait for somebody to come pick him up.”

“And I did. But I didn’t know what kind of vehicle to watch for. All of a sudden the kid comes running out and jumps into a yellow truck, and they took off.”

“Was he alone?”

“Peeky ran out of the restaurant like his hair was on fire. He was following the other kid, Barry. I’m guessing the girl was driving the truck.”

Findlay pounded the desk. “Damn, we could have had both of them along with Peeky.”

“They peeled out of the parking lot and took off for the interstate,” Bolton said. “By the time I got my car turned around and out of the lot… they had a big lead. I couldn’t see through all the traffic whether they went north or south, so I guessed south. There’s nothing much north anyway.”

Captain Ferguson walked over to Findlay. “It doesn’t matter. With a decent head start, they were sure to get free and clear. There are too many exits around that part of the interstate. They could have lost three of our cars.”

Findlay rocked in the chair. “Okay, so we know they’re together and we know they’re on the run. They’re probably scared.” He eyed Ferguson. “What do people do in that kind of situation?”

“Head for home, or get out of Dodge,” said Bolton.

“Or counterattack.” Ferguson rubbed his chin. “Jim, you better stick with Findlay for now.”

“Why didn’t your boy Peeky just drop a dime and let us nab them all in the restaurant? I was sitting right there.”

Findlay stared at the speakerphone. “I don’t know. Maybe there wasn’t time.”

“Or maybe he didn’t really flip.”

“Maybe. I don’t know that either.” Findlay stopped rocking and sorted it all out. “This was always about the money for Peeky, so I doubt he’ll let that go. He’s put in a lot of work to get this far. Remember, he put on a good act, but he’s a money grubbing little shit underneath it all. So I don’t know what’s going on with him, but I do know this—they won’t leave town and they won’t go to their homes. They’re going to come for their machine.”

Ferguson sipped his coffee. “The best chance they’ll have to reacquire the machine is during the transfer.”

“Against armed military people? No way.” Findlay sat back in the chair and folded his arms.

“This isn’t a piece of weaponry. The transfer team won’t be armed. They’ll be a couple of regular guys with a truck.”

“What the fuck, Ferg! I was expecting like an army!”

“Nope.” He emptied his coffee cup with a gulp. “Just a couple of guys and a truck. That’s what they’re sending.”

* * * * *

The pimply faced guy sitting behind the registration counter ogled Melissa as she approached. The motel office had a large window, but it was like the drive through at the bank—a glass pane with a small opening and a metal pass-through drawer. After a certain hour, all transactions were done through the thick glass instead of in the lobby so the clerk didn’t get robbed. He lowered the volume on his small TV.

Melissa unfolded the bills in her hand. “I need to get a room for a night, please.”

“Just you, miss?” The clerk stood, looking her up and down.

“That's right. How much is it, please?”

“Well, have you heard about our USF ‘Free for a Flash’ program?”

She glared at him. “I have not.”

He smiled. “Yeah, well, you know the room is free… for a flash.”

Frowning, she narrowed her eyes. “I'm not flashing you.”

“Hey, then we might be all full for the night.” He sat back down. “I’m just sayin’. Sixty bucks is a lot of beer money.”

Melissa noticed the office TV switch over to a news update, featuring the three students who were allegedly on the run. She leaned into the window. “You mean, if I show you my breasts,” she pressed her t-shirt against the glass. “You’ll give me my room for free?”

Pimples licked his lips. “Normally I just knock off ten bucks for a flash. But for you, I’d go the whole way.” The TV update continued.