Dave Barry - Big trouble

"Good point," agreed Baker. "OK, here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna take him" — he pointed at Pendick — "and him" — he pointed at Andrew — "downtown to get this straightened out."

"Can I call my mom?" asked Andrew.

"Yes," said Baker.

"I wanna call whashisname," said Pendick, picturing a lawyer he'd seen on a local TV commercial, standing in front of a shelf full of law books and basically suggesting that anybody who had ever fallen down was entitled to compensation.

"Who?" asked Baker.

"I don't remember," said Pendick.

"Absolutely, you can call him," said Baker.

"Good," said Pendick, " 'cause I got rights."

"You surely do," agreed Baker. To Andrew, he said, "I also want to talk to your two friends. Any idea where they are?"

"They ran when he started shooting," said Andrew.

"Any idea where they ran to?"

Andrew thought about it. "Probably they got Mart's car and went to… I guess either his dad's apartment or Jenny's house."

"Jenny's house," said Monica. "That's where somebody shot the TV, right? And you were in the backyard, with Matt?"

"Yeah," said Andrew. "I mean, no."

"The imaginary Mend," said Monica, nodding. To Detective Baker, she said, "How about I swing over to Jenny's house, see if the kids went there?"

"Sounds good," said Baker.

Monica looked over at Walter, who was in Deep Lust Eyeball Lock with the HBD.

"Officer Kramitz," she said, "you ready to roll?"

"Yeah," said Walter. He told the HBD, "We gotta take care of somethin'. See you in a while." Walter had determined, through investigative techniques, that the HBD was staying in the Doubletree Hotel, room 312, and that she had two girlfriends with her, but they would not be a problem because they planned to spend the evening at a South Beach nightclub called Orgasm.

"Be careful," said the HBD, resting her hand on his forearm.

"Don't worry," he said, shifting his flex effort from biceps to triceps. "We're professionals." He turned and strode in a professional manner toward the cruiser. As he reached Monica, he whispered, "Lemme drive, OK?"

Monica, rolling her eyes, handed him the keys and got into the passenger seat. Walter gave the HBD one last view of his arm muscles, swung into the driver's seat, started the cruiser, and gunned the engine. He fired up the siren and, with a totally unnecessary squeal of the tires, roared off down Grand Avenue.

After a minute, Monica said, "Walter, turn off the damn siren."

Glancing into the rearview to make sure they were far enough from the HBD, he switched it off. "Hey," he said, "where 're we goin'?"

"The house over on Garbanzo Street that we went to the other night, where the kid had the squirt gun and somebody shot the TV."

"Why the hell 're we going there?" he asked.

'To see if the other two kids are there, Matt and Jenny," said Monica. "The detective wants to talk to them."

"What, we're a school bus now?" said Walter. "Jesus."

Walter could not believe he was being pulled away from an actual crime scene, featuring a hot babe, to be sent on this lame errand. Walter did not get into police work to fart around with kids and squirt guns. Walter wanted action.

Matt punched in the code Jenny had given him, and the electronic gate blocking the Herk driveway — which had just been repaired after having been broken open by the police — slid open. Matt pulled into the parking area in front of the garage, and he and Jenny got out and went to the front door. Jenny, who had held it together pretty well on the ride over, was shaking badly now, fumbling with her key. She finally got the lock open and burst into the foyer.

"Mom!" she shouted. "Mom where are you?"

"Jenny?" Anna's voice came from the living room. "Are you OK, honey?"

"Mom!" said Jenny, running to Anna. "Somebody shot at us! He kept shooting and shooting!" She wrapped her arms around Anna, sobbing violently.

"Who?" said Anna, hugging her. "Who was shooting at you, honey? Where?"

Jenny was sobbing too hard into Anna's shoulder to answer. Matt entered the living room. "What happened?" Anna asked him. "What's going on?

"We were in the Grove?" said Matt. "Playing Killer? And I was gonna shoot Jenny? But somebody started shooting at us."

"You mean with a squirt gun?" asked Anna.

"No," said Matt. "It was a gun gun. With bullets."

"Oh my God!" said Anna, horrified. "Who?"

"We don't know," said Matt. "He was, like, this crazy person."

"Oh my God!" said Anna, hugging Jenny tighter.

"So we ran away, and we don't know where Andrew is," said Matt. "We came here to call the police."

"OK, right," said Anna, fighting to calm herself. "We'll call the police."

"Can I call my dad first?" asked Matt.

"Right," said Anna, "call your dad, let him know you're here, then we'll call the police."

"Mom," sobbed Jenny, "I was so scared."

"It's OK, honey," said Anna, stroking her daughter's hair. "It's OK. You're home now. You're safe here."

On the street outside, in the front seat of the Lexus, Snake looked in Arthur Herk's wallet to make sure the address on the driver's license — 238 Garbanzo — was the house Herk had driven to.

Satisfied, he said, "OK, open it."

Herk punched in the code and the driveway gate slid open. Snake said, "OK, chief, who're we gonna find at home?"

"Nobody," said Arthur. "I mean, just my wife and her kid."

"That's all? Just women?" Snake knew that a lot of these drug kingpins had henchmen around.

"Far as I know," said Arthur.

"Well, you better be right," said Snake, " 'cause when we go in, I'm gonna have this gun pointin' right at your head. Anybody tries to fuck with me, your brains is spaghetti on the fuckin' wall."

"Look," said Arthur, "you don't need to shoot me. You can have whatever you want, OK? Just take it. Anything."

Snake thought about that.

"Your wife," he said. "She good-lookin'?"

Arthur turned and looked right at Snake.

"Very," he said. "And so is her kid."

Buffy moved cautiously through the dark and dripping underground passageway, gripping a wooden stake, knowing she had to destroy the hideous creature before it destroyed her. The creature was close by; she could feel it.

Eliot could feel it, too. In the excruciating tension of the moment, he had suspended, temporarily, the chewing of his Cheez-It. The small damp orange square rested uneasily on his tongue.

Buffy saw an opening just ahead to her right, a low, dark hole in the wall. She stopped in front of the opening, peering inside, her eyes unable to penetrate the gloom. But she knew the thing was in there. And she knew she had to go in there after it. Crouching, holding the stake in front of her, she began to edge forward into the darkness, when suddenly…

BRINNNGG!

Eliot started, spewing a Cheez-It glob onto his shorts.

"Damn," he said, reaching for the phone. "Hello?"

"Dad, somebody shot at us and we gotta call the police," said Matt.

"Matt?" said Eliot. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah but we gotta call the police."

"Where are you?"

"Jenny's house. We drove the Kia here."

"What do you mean, somebody shot at you? You mean with a squirt gun?"

"No! With a gun!"

"Who?"

"Some guy. Andrew ran away and we don't know where he is and I gotta hang up and call the police."

"OK, you call the police and I'll get a cab over there right now."

Eliot hung up, grabbed his wallet, stuck his feet into his flip-flops, and ran out the door, not taking the time to turn off the TV.

The creature lunged out of the darkness and sent Buffy sprawling backward onto the ground. The stake flew from her hand, landing just out of her reach. The creature stood over her, snarling, its gaping, fanged mouth twisted into a grotesque grin of triumph. Things looked very bad for Buffy.