Layce Gardner - More Than a Kiss

Edison popped up from her desk with a remote control helicopter to which she was attaching what appeared to be a set of binoculars with duct tape.

“What is that?” Amy said.

“It’s my remote recording binoculars with aerial capabilities.”

“That’s what I thought it was,” Isabel said smugly.

Amy rolled her eyes at Isabel. Does flirting have no limits? “I don’t get it,” Amy said. “Are you going to fly the toy helicopter to spy on him like through a window or something?”

“Bingo!” Edison said. “And if that doesn’t work we can always break in.”

“What!” Amy said, recoiling.

“Only as a last resort,” Edison assured her.

“I don’t really understand what we’re looking for,” Amy said.

“We want to know how Chad ticks. He’s got psycho-stalker written all over him. Let’s check out his digs and see what we can find. We get some proof that he’s a wacko and Jordan will believe your story. Because without any proof she’s still going to think you played her no matter what you say,” Edison said.

Amy groaned. She knew Edison was right.

“Okay, put your big girl panties on and let’s get a move on,” Edison said.

They loaded the helicopter with its attached binocular load and a scope thing and a box of sci-fi what-nots, as Amy thought of them, and an enormous toolbox into Edison’s VW bug. Amy rode in the back seat because Isabel had called shotgun. “Why don’t we put some of this in the trunk?” Amy asked as she sat on something hard, rubbery and pokey. It turned out that sitting on it wasn’t near as much fun as it sounded.

“Trunk’s full.”

Amy figured as much.

“Okay what’s his address?” Edison said.

Amy wasn’t exactly sure. “I know it was on the corner of Pine Street and another tree name street.”

Edison and Isabel stared at her like she was a hopeless excuse for a spy. Which of course, she was. Amy shrugged apologetically. “All trees look alike to me.”

Edison harrumphed and then pulled out a super small computer looking thing. “What’s his full name?”

Amy did know that at least. “Chad Earl Dorring.”

Edison and Isabel made yucky faces. Edison plugged the name in and immediately was rewarded with a phone number. Amy didn’t know if it was his or not. “You really don’t hang out with this guy do you?” Edison said.

“I already told you that.”

“Has he ever called you?”

“About a zillion times.”

Edison held out her hand and did the ‘gimme’ motion. Amy handed over her cell phone.

Edison found his number easily and punched it into her little computer. It beeped back an address on Pine Street.

“I could’ve just called the hospital and asked one of the twins,” Amy said.

“No, we don’t want to leave any sort of evidence trail,” Edison said. She started the car and burned rubber out of the driveway and onto the street. Isabel looked delighted at Edison’s driving technique. They really are soul mates, Amy thought.

Mission Chad

They pulled up to a two-story apartment house that, according to the mailboxes, contained eight units. Edison pulled into the parking lot where three other cars were parked. “Are any of these cars his?” she asked.

Amy did remember his car but only because he talked about it all the time. He had even named the car like it was his firstborn. He would say, “I took Beemer up to Mt. Hood,” or “I took Beemer to the coast,” or “I took Beemer downtown but I didn’t want to park it anywhere in case it got scratched.” Ugh, Amy hated Beemer. She told Edison, “All I know is that it’s black and it has the shiny gold hub-cabs. He named it Beemer.”

“Ah, well it’s not here. And Beemer is slang for a BMW which is a German car and very uber-yuppie and they’re called rims not hubcaps,” Edison explained. She glanced over at Amy. “When we get this all cleared up I’m going to insist Jordan take you out more. Where have you been living? In a cave?”

“Med school mostly,” Amy said.

“It sounds like you were in prison,” Edison said. She studied the building. “Do you remember the apartment number?”

Amy looked out the window. “Nope.”

“I’ll be right back,” Edison said, getting out of the car.

“Where are you going?” Isabel asked.

“To read the names on the mail boxes.”

“Be careful,” Isabel said like she was saying her last goodbye to a soldier headed off to war.

“This will just take a minute and don’t play with any of my stuff.” She chucked Isabel under the chin and strode away.

Once they were alone, Amy asked the question that had been burning at her brain for the past half hour. “How did you know all about the Corndog and the Plunger?”

“Hey,” Isabel said, shrugging, “Girls just want to have fun.”

“You’re really into her, aren’t you?”

Isabel stared dreamily in Edison’s direction. “I can’t help it. Just look at her.”

Amy looked. All she saw was a girl who could have been the anthropomorphic version of Thelma from Scooby Doo . Without the skirt and knee socks. “Different strokes,” she thought.

Edison jogged back to the car and got in. “Apartment number six.” She pressed a hidden button on the dash. There was a whirring sound as a previously hidden moon roof slowly slid open.

“Ooooh,” Isabel intoned like she was watching the Bat Cave open.

“Okay, now had me that scope,” Edison said to Amy.

Among the jumble of mechanical items, Amy had no clue what was a scope and what wasn’t.

“That long tube looking thing,” Edison prompted.

Amy handed it to her. Edison aimed it toward the moon roof and telescoped out until it rose over twenty feet high. She adjusted the swivel head back and forth with knobs until the scope’s line of sight was looking directly into Chad’s apartment. Peering through the end with one eye squinted, Edison said, “Lights are off. Nobody appears to be home.”

Amy resisted saying, “You could’ve just knocked on the door and found out that much.”

Edison reeled in the scope and stored it. “Now for step two.”

Edison hopped out of the car, quickly picked up a chunk of broken concrete, took aim and heaved it at the window. Glass shattered inward. Edison jumped back into the car, yelling, “Duck!” They all three crouched down out of sight below the car windows.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Amy whispered like somebody could overhear. “You committed a crime. That’s breaking and entering.”

“Technically we haven’t entered.” Edison said.

“It’s only breaking,” Isabel said and giggled. Edison giggled along with her.

Edison peeked over the dash. “All clear.” She sat up. “Next step.”

“There’s another step?” Amy said.

“Of course. Why do you think we brought the helicopter?” Edison said.

“You’re not serious,” Amy said.

“You’re going to fly it into Chad’s apartment?” Isabel said like an excited little kid.

“Bingo.”

That word was beginning to make Amy nervous.

“Is that even possible?” Isabel said.

“With the right equipment and skills it is,” Edison said. “And I happen to have plenty of both.”

Edison got out of the car, opened the passenger back door and gently extracted the helicopter. She placed it on the hood of the car with its nose pointed toward the apartment building.

Next, Edison got back in the car and pulled a remote control out of her pocket. It looked as innocuous as a PlayStation remote control, except it had a small screen attached to it. Edison punched a big red button on the remote. The helicopter buzzed to life. The blades began to spin, faster and faster, until it lifted into the air. Using a thumb toggle to guide the helicopter and the viewing screen to see where it was going, Edison guided the helicopter to the broken window. It hovered a moment before the window and then easily slipped inside the apartment.