Marjorie Thelen - Designer Detective

I could barely hear her over the traffic.

Hudson turned around. “Please, Miss Marlowe, please. Try not to draw attention to Miss Opal. We don’t want anything to jeopardize our plans.”

“Opal,” I said, motioning with my hand, “you go on. We’ll catch up with you later. We’ll be in touch. Go on now.”

She nodded and rolled up the window. They forged ahead in traffic.

I leaned forward to speak to Hudson. “I hope this doesn’t mean that plans are going awry.”

“Nothing to worry about Miss Marlowe, we are on track to wrap this caper up today.”

“Great. That’s really comforting.”

Jake said, “I could use a cup of coffee.”

“Me, too,” I said. “Are they still following? Maybe we could talk the boys into breakfast and coffee. We could talk rifles.”

“Watch out,” said Mike as he swerved to avoid the car in front that had hit its brakes. A head-wrenching crunch reverberated through the car. The car behind smacked into us. The car to the left of us swerved to miss the guy in front of him and skidded sideways into us. The sound of screeching metal, squealing brakes and angry shouts swirled around us.

“You all right, Fiona?” Jake said, as we jerked to a stop.

“I think so.”

We pivoted around surveying the damage. Crumpled cars and red faces hemmed us in. People got out of their cars. No one was moving in the westbound lane. The eastbound lane slowed to a crawl as people rubbernecked to see what kind of fool traffic pile up had happened this time.

Hudson said to Mike, “I say, isn’t that the people from the Geronimo unit in that late model Ford truck?”

Mike looked and cursed a few choice words under his breath. “Man, they never follow instructions. They weren’t supposed to be with us out here. They were supposed to have the other folks on the road. What are they doing here?”

Hudson shook his head. “They are so very unreliable. You would think with all their funding they’d be able to have better trained people.”

He turned to us. “Wait here. We will reconnoiter and ascertain what is to be done.”

Mike got out with him. Both stuck their hands in the pockets as only men can do and walked to the Ford truck.

Jake put his arm around me. “Looks like we might be here for awhile. I wonder if these seats recline. Want to sleep with me, Fiona?”

He kissed me softly on my hair, and I couldn’t help but snuggle against him. “Sounds tempting. We never did resolve whose room we’d end up in last night. What a night. What happens next?”

“Haven’t a clue. I’d say we are caught in forces beyond our control, and the vise is closing. How I got here from a ranch in beautiful southeast Oregon is beyond me. It all started with Albert croaking.”

“Yes, and you know we still don’t know who murdered him, or if he opted out himself.”

By this time everyone had gotten out of their cars and were milling about, looking at damage, talking to other motorists. Hands waved. Voices rose.

“Look, Jake, the Ford truck guys are talking to Mike and Hudson. Maybe the confederation of agencies is battling this one out. I’ve heard of that, federal agencies fighting over whose jurisdiction has the upper hand.”

“Don’t know. What do you say we split and find some coffee?”

“Do you think we should? What about the guys following us?”

“We’ll be careful and be back before anyone misses us.”

We walked through the milling motorists and found a little dive called the Silver Diner opened on a side street and settled into a booth. The waitress brought coffee with the menus. I sighed in contentment and ordered a cinnamon bun to revitalize my soul. Jake ordered steak and eggs.

“Now what?” I said. “I have my ticket to Australia. Opal is on her way to Oregon with the boys. The estate may never be settled, but we don’t have to worry about that. We may never know how Albert died. So we’re off the hook, as far as I can tell.”

“Not quite,” said Jake. “The rifles are missing, and the bad guys are still looking for them, us and Cody.”

“Yes, but we can walk away, and the mysterious confederation can take care of everything.”

“You can walk away. I have to live with Opal and Cody. Opal doesn’t realize how bad the charges are going to be against Cody. That might be for the best. I’m glad she’s leaving because she is forever trying to protect him. I’m going to call the boys and see where they are.”

He flipped open his cell phone. I was envious. Mine was smashed on the floor of the hotel room, and I hated deciding on a new one, there are so many. Maybe I’d get an IPhone this time.

“Where are you? Why are you going there? No, turn around. You can’t take Opal to New York no matter what she says she wants to do. You take her home, you hear? I know she’s your boss, but she has funny ideas these days. It’s her medication.”

He closed the phone and laid it on the table. “Can you believe Opal wants to see the Statue of Liberty?”

“She doesn’t get east that often. I can’t blame her.”

Breakfast arrived and more coffee. We wolfed down every last morsel. I smiled as I laid down my fork. I wanted to burp in delight like the ancient Romans did after a meal to express their pleasure but I restrained myself.

“Let’s go,” said Jake. “Maybe the traffic jam is over by now. Hudson probably has an All Points Bulletin out on us.”

Outside the fog was clearing to reveal another cloudy, overcast morning. We walked along the side street toward the traffic jam. I heard footsteps and a man with a black goatee and shaved head fell in beside us. He wore a sweat suit and looked like he might have been running.

“Another lousy morning,” he said.

I nodded. “Out for a run?” I said, making polite conversation.

“No, I dress this way all the time. More comfortable. I hate suits. My name is Ratko.”

There was no mistaking that name.

“Let’s go,” I said to Jake and tried to pull him away.

Ratko grabbed my arm. “Hey, what’s the hurry, Fiona? You and your friend, Jake, here have some talking to do.”

Jake took a good look at Ratko. “Do we know you?”

“I do business with your buddy, Cody. But he reneged on the bargain, and I’m here to collect.”

A dark green Cadillac Escalade SUV pulled in front of us and stopped. Ratko opened the door. “Get in. We’re taking a little ride.”

“What if we say we don’t want to take a ride?” Jake said. “We got other commitments.”

Ratko pulled out a tiny silver gun and pointed it at us from the fold of his jacket. “This little guy says you do want to. Now get in.”

“Maybe we should talk this over.”

“I need action, not talking. You’re going to take us to the rest of the rifles. Then we’ll talk about whether you get to live.”

He tightened his grip on my arm and shoved me in the back seat.

“Move over,” he said. “You, Jake, get in beside her.”

Great, I thought. If he gets in the front seat, then maybe we could fling ourselves from the car when it got underway. But then I saw the two guys in the seat behind. They sported unfriendly faces.

Ratko slammed the door and got in front. The driver slid away from the curb and into the line of traffic. Ratko turned to look at us. “Tell us where to go because we are going to get those rifles.”

Jake said, matter-of-fact, “They’re in the back shed at Albert’s house.”

A meteor from outer space could not have hit with the force of that pronouncement. I nearly lost my grip on reality, not that I ever had much of one. I shoved my face into Jake’s. “What are you talking about?”

His eyes locked mine with a boa constrictor grip. “I’m saying that I know where the rifles are at Albert’s. That’s what I’m saying.”