Marjorie Thelen - Designer Detective

I didn’t hear footsteps, and I didn’t look back. My only thought was cover. I came to a clearing and saw a quaint gazebo on the bank of a small pond on the Lodge extended estate. I ran for it. The gazebo was open around the top but the bottom half was enclosed, and I collapsed behind the wooden wall.

I had a sharp pain in my side from running and could barely get my breath. The cigarette hadn’t helped. I clawed my way up to look back the way I had come. I could see the garage through the trees but nothing else. Where was Jake? Where had he gone? I didn’t see any houses. I had no idea where to go. I was afraid I’d run into someone I didn’t want to see.

Damn that Jake. Damn that Hudson. Damn Cody. At least Opal got away. I hoped. I slid back down and sat against the wall. How did Jake know where those rifles were? How was it that Hudson had concealed them without Cody knowing? Were they going to kill Jake after they had gotten the rifles? Had they already knifed or shot him? Maybe they hadn’t finished off the job, and he was hurt.

The suspense was killing me so I decided I’d sneak back to see what was happening. Maybe the furniture truck had arrived. I sat up and brushed off my clothes. They were dirty, and my feet hurt. But it could be worse. I could be dead. At least, I hadn’t been tortured.

I made a wide cautious circle toward the back of the garage and outbuildings. If I planted myself behind the old shed, maybe I’d see them hauling out the rifles. Jake seemed awfully comfortable with Ratko’s men. Maybe he was in on the heist. Maybe he was getting a cut. Maybe he bought and sold on the black market for extra income. I’d read that anything was for sale in the global arms bazaar, that you could even buy an F-16 if you wanted.

I crouched in a laurel thicket behind the shed. The furniture truck had arrived. Joey was leaning against the hood of the Escalade, and Ratko was yelling at him. Two men who must have come with the truck and the two men who had gotten from the car with Jake were carrying long, narrow boxes from the shed.

I shook my head. It was so easy. The hiding place was so easy. Jake must have figured it out in the investigating he had done without me. Of course, he had never bothered to share that information.

I heard a crunch and froze. I was afraid to look and tried to wiggle further into the laurel thicket. I stretched my neck to see what had made the noise. Off to my left were four men in black windbreakers with ATF in huge white letters across the back, crouching under the pines. I guess they wanted to make sure they didn’t shoot each other. They eased closer to the rifle shed. One was snapping photos with a fast action camera. They’d have Ratko dead to rights. They could walk right into the clearing, say ‘Stick ‘em up’ and they’d have them red handed.

But then all hell broke loose.

A fireball exploded in front of the furniture truck. Pops and flashes flew between the ATF guys and the men in the clearing. I flattened out on the ground. The ATF guys ran in the other direction. The gunshots continued. I was in a live action Hollywood movie.

As fast as the firefight started, it stopped. I stayed down. Gunfire started up closer to the house then quit. I struggled up, inched closer to the shed and peeked in the window. Someone was lying over a stack of rifle boxes. I couldn’t tell through the dirty window who it was. Another man was down beside the truck. The front of the furniture truck was black. In a half crouch I sneaked into the shed. I had to see if it was Jake even though I didn’t know if the dirty rat was on my side or theirs. A man in a furniture mover uniform lay on his stomach face turned away from me, his head bloody.

My stomach turned upside down, and I thought for a moment I’d lose breakfast. After a moment or two, I garnered my courage, what was left of it, and said, “Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond. What did they do on those television police shows when they found a body? Check for pulse. Tentatively, I placed my fingers on his neck. He was warm, and I thought I could feel a pulse.

I heard shouting and eased out of the shed. Only because I had seen it in the movies, I made a zig-zag run to the first garage. One of the bay doors was opened. I didn’t remember it being open when we came in.

I saw no vehicles that would have signaled how the ATF guys got there. But then they would have hidden the vehicles. I looked in the bay door that was open. There was the banged up dark gray Suburban Hudson had been using. Hudson’s spy car. It sat alongside the Rolls, his butler car. He was a man of many talents.

“Hello?” I said in a hoarse whisper. “Any body here? Hello?”

I checked out the Suburban. My carryon luggage was in the back where Jake had thrown it when we left the hotel. Hudson had followed us here. But then he knew where the rifles were hidden. Had Jake helped him organize the sting? How much had they both known about the set up? I wondered if they had the bad guys in a room with their hands held high.

I could leave. I could take the Suburban and leave. I checked for the keys. Not in the ignition. Not in the glove compartment, nor the center console. They were under the floor mat. I had the airline ticket to Sydney in my purse. I had transportation. I could be off in an instant. As I was about to climb into the driver’s seat, I heard my name.

“Fiona, where are you going? I’ve been looking all over for you.”

I paused in my getaway and looked around. Jake came around the back of the car and stopped. We stood looking at each other.

“Jake Manyhorses, you have some explaining to do.”

He nodded and his hands came out to embrace me, but my lethal stare stopped him mid-air.

“Fiona,” he began but his voice trailed off.

“How did you know those rifles were in the shed?”

“I helped Hudson put them there. The rifles you discovered in the basement were half the cache. We had already removed most of it to the shed.”

“You knew about the rifles. You led me astray on a number of occasions. You used me.”

“It may look like that but really I was trying to keep you out of harm’s way. But you kept getting in the way. I didn’t want anything to happen to you. This whole thing kept playing like some bad movie.”

“Bad movie all right with live ammunition,” I said. “Ratko said he’d been blackmailing Albert. Did you know that?”

“Not exactly. I knew Albert was being blackmailed but I didn’t know who.”

“But I did.” Hudson walked through the open bay door and came to stand beside us. His hair wasn’t even disheveled. “I knew someone was getting to Albert but I couldn’t find out who it was. When Cody came into the picture and started helping him, he was freer with information than Albert. I was able to get names. When they started showing up at the house after Albert’s demise, we were able to close in. I had to hold back some of the rifles so we could set up the sting.”

“What was the blackmail?” I said. I stood with my arms folded tight across my chest, not feeling kindly disposed toward either of them.

“Alice,” said Hudson. “She insisted on a cut when she found out Albert was dealing arms. Instead of turning him in, she wanted a cut. If she got a cut, she wouldn’t turn him in, would she?”

“And,” I said. “Albert was sleeping with her. Maybe in love with her and married to another woman.”

“Yes,” Hudson said. “Albert had the hedged clipped like a suit of cards for his love, Alice Wonderland. That’s when Olivia knew Albert was involved with Alice because she was, too. Olivia knew the connection with Alice in Wonderland. You cannot imagine the row that ensued in the Lodge household. I think it ultimately caused Olivia’s stroke.”