Murder Most Foul (standard:adventure, 30841 words)
Author: MysteryWriter	Added: Sep 06 2009	Views/Reads: 3899/2956	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A simple stalking turns into something much more sinister.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


Since I wasn't a cop anymore, I decided that I would apply an even older
law than those I used to enforce.  I decided that it was a clear cut 
case of 'finders keepers'. 

My life was going to get complicated if I decided to keep the money.  Oh
what the hell, I thought, My life has always been complicated.  
Immediately my marital status came to mind.  I had to laugh. I was 
standing over two dead men holding a bag of stolen money and my 
ex-wives came to mind.  The bodies and the money paled in comparison to 
the trouble five ex wives can cause a man. 

"Okay, if I am going to keep the money, I have to hide it."  I knew for
a fact that the area was going to be a crime scene real soon.  I 
couldn't put off making that call much longer.  I also could not 
disturb the crime scene anymore than I had already.  I walked twenty 
five yards or so down a gravel path to the concrete overlook.  When I 
arrive I stood in the spot where the front handrail and the side 
handrail came together.  I knelt down, took a quick look around, then 
lowered the bag into the dark waters of the city reservoir. 

I walked back to the car to make my report to the 911 operator.  "911
emergency how my I help you?" the female voice asked. 

"Dear God I think I killed him.  Please send an ambulance and the police
please." 

"Is he breathing?" she asked calmly. 

"No neither of them is breathing please send someone." 

"Where are you sir?" 

"I'm calling on a cell phone.  I'm at the city reservoir overlook on 68.
Please send someone." 

"Just stay on the phone sir.  I have an ambulance and police car on the
way." 

"Thank you."  I said almost hysterically." 

I hit the kill button on the phone.  I put my gun on the hood of the
Ford and waited for the ambulance and the cops. 

"Burke what the hell happened here?"  It was a woman much younger than
my 48 years.  Cops who have been on the department more than five years 
knew me.  Even the younger ones knew of me.  In my case it was not a 
good thing.  I had been forced into retirement.  They used my case at 
the academy to teach rookies what not to do. 

Even though I was acquitted of criminal wrong doing, it was suggested
that if I wanted to avoid a civil rights trial I should resign.  One 
trial took all the money I had so resigning seemed like a good idea.  I 
went out with twenty years service, not enough for a pension but I did 
get a nice big settlement.  My retirement account and a few other 
things the department owed me.  I would have wished for my good name 
restored but the department was playing politics with my life.  I guess 
that is how I justified dropping the case full of money off the 
concrete walkway of the overlook. 

"It's a hell of a mess is what it is," I replied. 

"I can see that so what happened?" 

I told her the story almost exactly as it happened.  I did leave out the
part about the bag being under water not 25 yards from where we stood. 

"So the man on the ground just walked up and put a round into the head
of the guy in the back seat.  For no apparent reason." 

"Yeah, I was surprised by the sound." 

"Not so surprised that you couldn't manage to pull that nasty little .38
and pop the shooter." 

"I had a pretty good idea that he was too cold to leave a witness.  So
yeah I busted a cap in his ass." 

"Very poetic, but we call in homicide." 

"Call it anything you want, it was a righteous shoot." 

"Well that will be something new for you."  She changed the subject
after she saw the look on my face. 

The female cop was joined by two detectives within minutes.  They walked
right up to me ignoring the patrolman.   "So what happened Burke?" 

I told the same story again.  "I thought he was meeting some married
woman to be honest," I said finally.  I mean there was no luggage, no 
case of any kind.  It just had 'cheating husband' written all over it 

If the cops weren't buying my story they didn't let on.  After the dead
men were identified, they pretty much seemed happy to let the DA handle 
it.  They were both known drug dealers so I guess my story sounded 
reasonable.  I got cut loose after about three hours of interviews.  
One thing I learned while doing my time on the blue line was how to 
keep my mouth shut.  Most suspects hang themselves because they think 
they need to fill the dead air.  In other words they keep talking when 
they should just shut up.  Lawyer up and you look guilty, shut up and 
you just look stupid. 

The cab was a crime scene so I had no way home.  I called the airport
limo service.  Eddie, one of the old timers, picked me up.  I had to 
tell the story one more time.  Again I left out the part about the 
money. 

At 1AM I drove to the mall parking lot, a couple of miles from the
overlook.  I took a short cut through the woods behind the mall.  The 
walk through the woods was only a mile and a half that way.  I knew 
about the short cut because it was part of the bike trail.  The trail 
started at a park about half a mile from the mall.  It ran through the 
woods behind the mall, then on past the overlook.  The trail ended in 
the next town about twenty miles away.  I always swore that I would 
hike it all one day, but I usually walked no more than five miles.  
From the park then past the mall, past the overlook and on to the spot 
behind a local church.  Then I turned around and went back. 

That was not the plan that night.  I walked from the mall parking lot
because my car would not stand out there even at 1AM.  Lots of out of 
town workers and college students parked their cars at the mall.  Since 
the mall was experiencing hard times, they didn't mind the cars in the 
lot.  It gave mall shoppers a false, but more favorable impression. 

Even in the dark with no additional light, I was able to walk about
three miles an hour.  I was naked and in the water by 2:30 AM.  I was 
back in my car, with only wet hair to make anyone suspicious, well 
before sunup.  I transferred the wet money from the small piece of 
luggage into two pillow cases from my bed.  I tied the tops closed with 
a piece of twine. 

From the mall I drove out of the city.  After about a fifteen minute
drive. I  stopped at a small shopping center in one of those rural 
bedroom communities.  The shopping center had a 24 hour coin operated 
laundromat.  I knew about it only because I had worked a few nights as 
a body guard for a lady whose husband liked to pound on her.  I went 
with her to do her to do the laundry  one night. 

I fed two bucks worth of quarters into a commercial dryer and let the
pillow cases tumble for almost an hour.  They were hot as hell when I 
removed them.  I was pretty sure the money would be dry enough to 
repackage by that time. 

I knew two things for sure.  The cops didn't know about the money yet,
but the two dead men did.  Not only did they know, but some of their 
friends most likely knew did as well.  Just as soon as the cops gave 
all the details to the press, someone would notice that there was no 
mention of a bag full of money.  About that time there would be a lot 
more interest in the old cab driver. 

I wouldn't be hard to find at all.  I wouldn't be for sure if I stayed
put.  I had no intention of staying put.  I planned to get the hell out 
of town and to get so lost daylight would have a hard time finding me. 

Number one thing to do, was something not to do.  Forget about closing
down the my present life.  The thing for me to do was to just close the 
door to the apartment and walk away.  The cops might figure out that I 
was on the run, or maybe not.  They might think I was in the wind or 
they might think some one killed me and hidden the body.  It had been 
known to happen to drug war witnesses.  They might not suspect me of 
skipping with the money.  If I was the cop working the case, I would 
sure as hell look at that possibility. 

So I had to leave the money in my bank account alone.  I had to toss the
credit cards as well.  I had a small balance on the only card I ever 
used.  "After 12 years with never a late fee, they can take the bite on 
three hundred bucks," I said aloud.  I couldn't owe more than that 
since I paid it off every month. 

I needed to walk away from my car as well.  I couldn't take anything
from the apartment, I was going to need clothes and everything.  
Clothes could wait, the first thing I needed was transportation out of 
town.  I could walk to the regional bus terminal from my downtown 
apartment.  I figured to ride the commuter bus as far as the next town. 
 Nobody kept records on those buses since it was public transportation. 
 The only person who would see me who might be available later to 
interrogate would be the driver .  He most likely was tired and would 
pay no attention to one more homeless man headed to a shelter 
somewhere." 

If I bumped into anyone I knew, which was very unlikely, I could just go
home and do it again tomorrow, I thought. 

"Will that be all?" The young blond cashier at Wal-mart asked as he
placed the large black backpack onto the counter. 

"Could you put that in a bag for me please?"  I asked it because I
didn't want my neighbors to mention seeing me with a backpack.  When I 
put it in the wind I wanted as little information as possible floating 
around about me. 

Later that evening I stuffed the money into the backpack along with the
receipt for the backpacks purchase.  I took a deep breath and turned 
over a couple of chairs, then walked out the door.  When I closed it my 
present life was over, a new one would be beginning.  What kind of life 
was a mystery even to me. 

I never wear a hat, but on the bus ride into the next town I wore one. 
I also wore glasses from the drugstore.  I used them to read the 
newspaper at home.  I was so vain that I never wore them when anyone 
else was around.  I know a man my age should wear glasses to read the 
morning paper, but I look like a dork in glasses. 

I looked like a balding dork when I climbed on the bus.  Neither of
those things fit me at all.  I have all my own hair, and I am anything 
but a geek or a dork.  Don't get me wrong if I were a geek I might not 
have needed to steal the money. 

The bus stopped at the regional airport but I stayed in the rear with my
nose buried in a book.  I think I might have read the same page a 
hundred times before the bus stopped for the last time. 

"Folks this is the end of the line.  After this stop I turn the bus in
for the night so everyone has to exit here." 

Of the three towns that made up the regional transport area, it was the
slightly larger one.  Even so the terminal building was only slightly 
larger than the other terminals.   The bus service went between the 
three towns stopping only in a few other places.  Mostly parking lots 
and other mass transit sites were the only stops.  The terminal where I 
left the buss that night was directly across the street from the larger 
town's train station. 

There was a local train coming from Washington DC and headed to New
Orleans with a thousand stops in between.  It left an hour after I 
arrived at the bus terminal. 

I used the hour to stop in a small diner two blocks from the bus
station.  It was even called the Greyhound Grill.  It was one of those 
places where the burgers where filled with artery clogging grease and 
the tea was cold and sweet. 

"What ya gonna have?" the over the hill waitress asked. 

"Make it a burger with cole slaw and tomato please." 

"How about fries?" 

"Sure why not, and iced tea."  The food took a while to make the short
trip from the grill to my table.  It was almost worth the wait but not 
quite.  When it did arrive I almost did my usual to the burger but I 
caught myself at the last minute.  Until I left town, I didn't want to 
call attention to myself in any way.  I was close enough so that there 
might be questions asked of these folks by my hometown cops.  So 
instead of taking the sandwich apart and eating everything but 3/4 of 
the bread, I ate it all as a sandwich.  It was a good burger grease and 
all. 

I was back at the train station ten minutes before the train arrived.  I
made a point of avoiding the other half dozen people waiting for the 
train.  I chose that train because the station's ticket counter was 
closed before it arrived.  On trains which  arrive after the ticket 
window closes, the conductor takes the payments.  Odds were very good 
that he would not remember a half naked coed let alone me. 

Just my luck the conductor was not an old man but rather a man even
younger than me.  I paid my fare while keeping my nose in the book but 
not so much as to make the conductor remember me.  On that night it was 
all about being completely forgettable.  It was a night not to make a 
favorable impression or a negative one either.  It was a night to be 
just plain boring as hell. 

The train made terrible time.  It stopped every thirty or forty miles it
seemed, which made the ride seem to last forever.  I got off the train 
in the middle of the night in a small Georgia town.  Since my ticket 
was all the way to New Orleans, there was no record of me leaving the 
train. 

I sat alone on the train platform waiting for morning.  I still hadn't
counted the money but I knew it was a lot.  I was nervous waiting for 
the station to open.  When it did open at 6AM, it was just for freight 
pickup by some local delivery service.  I probably could have talked 
the station master into allowing me to put my back pack into a locker 
but I chose not to be noticed.  I waited another hour until he opened 
the station to everyone. 

The first thing I did was to find a locker for the backpack.  After that
I went in search of food.  I was so hungry my stomach was rolling.  I 
didn't bother to ask the station master for a recommendation.  At the 
moment he was the weakest link in my escape plan. 

I found my way to a diner about two blocks away.  If I had known where
it was, I could have reached it in half the time.  The only indication 
that it was a restaurant was what appeared to be a very 
unprofessionally ,hand painted sign on the window.  The place did not 
start life as a diner for sure.  It had the big windows of a jewelry 
store or maybe a ladies ready to wear store.  It had been a diner long 
enough to have a dingy coat of grease on the walls.  I found a table in 
a corner.  I knew no one was looking for me yet, but it was good 
practice. 

"Would you like the special?" the teenage black girl asked. 

"What is the special?" 

"Two eggs, bacon or sausage and grits for three dollars."  Her diction
was too good for a waitress.  But I didn't want to know who she was bad 
enough to risk standing out. 

"Sure with coffee and toast." 

"Wouldn't you rather have biscuits.  The price is the same and mama
makes great biscuits." 

"Okay then biscuits it is."  I found out who she was without asking. 

While I ate, I considered my next move.  The town would have been fine
for me to settle in for a while, except it was on the train route that 
I had used.  It would be better for me to move on to another town.  
Somewhere having no ties to the railroad at all. 

One of the good things about getting lost these days is that businesses
have made it easy.  It is good business to sell to illegal aliens.  It 
is even better business to make it possible for them to do all the 
things a citizen does.  He can't do them the same way, but he can do 
them. 

No questions asked prepaid cell phones and credit cards make it possible
to work on a cash basis leaving no trail behind.  Lots of criminals 
have been doing it for years.  It was time for one only slightly soiled 
old guy to give it a shot. 

The food was very good just as the youngster had promised.  I left the
restaurant after paying my bill with a twenty, not one of the stolen 
hundreds.  It was still not the time to be noticed.  I began to wander 
around aimlessly.  I considered buying a bus ticket or renting a car 
but both would leave a paper trail.  I wanted the trail to end in the 
small Georgia town, even though it was unlikely that anyone could have 
followed me that far. 

While I was walking around trying to decide on my next move, I noticed
an old railroad hotel that had been converted to a downtown bed and 
breakfast.  I would love to have stayed there to celebrate my new life, 
but alas they would want identification. I could come up with some 
given a little time but I was not willing to show anyone identification 
at the moment.  It appeared that life on the run was going to be 
difficult for a while at least. 

It was about nine in the morning when I stumbled onto something
interesting.  I saw a few motor scooters in the showroom window of what 
had once been a Chevrolet dealer.  I could see the word Chevrolet even 
though the faded paint, which was meant to cover it.  What caught my 
attention was not the bikes, it was more the sign. 

50cc moped...150mpg,... no insurance.... no driver's license... no
registration.  Prices start at $599... Now that was an interesting 
option.  I could buy one and slip out of town leaving no trail behind 
me.  No bus station ticket agent to ID me.  I doubted seriously that 
any investigator would think that a man with a suitcase full of money 
would even consider a moped. 

"Hi there you interested in that beauty?" the salesman asked.  He was
what is the stereotype of a used car salesman.  He was even worse, he 
was one who had fallen on hard times. 

"To be honest I was reading your sign outside.  The idea of a hundred
plus miles per gallon interest me for sure." 

"To be honest Mr?"  He waited for me to speak.  I could have ignored him
but I didn't want to stand out, remember. 

"Abrams, Mike Abrams," I replied.  I didn't think the real Mike would
mind me borrowing his name.  I had arrested him for murder a few years 
before.  He was doing life without parole back in North Carolina.  Yes, 
I had his social security number just in case. 

"Well Mike to be honest those little things are toys.  You have to have
a license but the 150cc is about minimum to run with the traffic." 

"Well to be honest it's the no license thing that appeals to me right
now." 

"Oh I see.  In that case let's at least fix you up with a quality
scooter." 

"Actually, I kind of like the one over there that looks like a bicycle,"
I suggested. 

"Ah you do have an eye for quality.  That's to Tomos It's not cheap
though.  Not $599 for sure." 

"Well how much is it?" 

"1200 and a bargain at that." He replied in his best used car salesman
voice.  "But it is the most reliable and easiest to use of any moped we 
have.  It's a four stroke no gas to mix and none of that weed eater 
sound." 

"Well I like it but not that much," I replied. 

"Would you take that one?  It's been on the floor for a while.  I can 
have the mechanic check it out and service it for you." 

"When can you have it ready?" 

"It will take a couple of hours to clear your check, so we can have it
ready by say noon." 

"So how much are you talking about?" 

"How about a thousand plus tax, and the service?" 

"How about a thousand including the tax and service.  For that price
I'll go to the bank and get cash." 

"Okay leave me a deposit, so the boss will have Greg do the service and
it will be ready to go by noon." 

I handed him a hundred dollar bill.  "I'll be back but let me tell you
something.  If the bike is not ready, I will walk away AFTER I get my 
hundred bucks back."  I  have him my best bad man stare.  "Now it will 
be ready?" 

"Yes it will be ready," he replied seriously. 

"Make sure your man rides it, I don't want any surprises." 

Two hours later, I entered the shop with the black backpack in my hands.
 "You must be Greg," I said to the man in the greasy blue uniform.  He 
was standing under a huge fan.  I quickly determined that there was no 
air conditioning in the shop of the old Chevy dealership. 

"Yeah, you must be the man who bought the Tomos." 

"Not quite yet, but I will be if you tell it won't blow up on me."  I
smiled at him as I spoke. 

"It's good to go.  At least as far as I can tell.  It's about a year old
but it hadn't ever been cranked till I started it a few minutes ago." 

Greg wasn't a young man.  He wasn't as old as me, but he still wasn't
young. "Did you ride it?" 

"Yeah I made a few adjustments to the running gear and greased
everything good.  You shouldn't have any trouble with it at all.  The 
one year warranty starts today even if you find a problem." 

"Will they honor that warranty, if I take it to my sister's place?" 

"Get Eddie to give you a dealers list.  Any dealer in the country will
honor the warranty." 

"Well I appreciate it.  I guess I need to go pay for it." 

"Yeah, I'm sure Eddie is biting his nails."  He chuckled at the thought.


I  had stopped in the men's room of the train station after I retrieved
my bag.  I took out fifteen one hundred dollar bills from the backpack. 
I thought surely that would be enough for the purchase. 

"Hey there Mr. Abrams.  I just need your address for the bill of sale." 

"To be honest I'm just passing through.  I used to live up in Virginia."


"It's just a formality.  I can put your old address down if you like." 

I made up an address in Arlington Va.  I wasn't sure but it might have
been an address from my murky memory.  It could even have been the CIA 
or FBI street address.  It took him about ten minutes to process the 
sale and collect his 1100 bucks.  Yes they came up with something 
called a paper processing fee to charge me a hundred dollars.  I really 
didn't mind, since I had expected something like it. 

I rode the bike off into the afternoon sun.  I rode around for a few
minutes to get the feel for it.  I had not been on a bicycle, or 
motorcycle in over ten years.  It took me a while to pick it up again.  
In less than half and hour I was tooling along in a semi business area. 
 I rode past the older family style motel before I decided to turn 
around and go back. 

I checked into a room on the back of the motel.  If anyone saw me arrive
on a moped they sure as hell wouldn't be expecting me to have any cash 
at all, let alone a bag full.  I paid the Middle Eastern clerk in cash, 
 I paid  for only one night and told her I would probably be leaving 
early the next morning.  I used the same phony address as before.  I 
did not give her a credit card number since I didn't have one to give. 

I had six hundred bucks left from the bike and the walking around money
in my pocket.  I didn't bother to get more before I left the motel.  I 
left the backpack behind the bathroom door.  By that time the back pack 
had an old padlock lock on it.  I didn't really expect it to be any 
deterrent at all.  I guess even the useless lock made me feel better 
just like everyone else would.  If I had known I would be staying in 
town, I would have kept the locker at the train station. 

I got direction to the town's only discount store.  It wasn't Wal-mart
which was a bit of a shock.  It was some homegrown version of it.  I 
expected the prices to be a bit higher and they were by at least ten 
percent. 

I had some specific things in mind.  Clothes, a computer, a prepaid cell
phone, and a prepaid credit card.  I got the clothes and the prepaid 
phone and credit card but the little store did not carry computers.  My 
purchases fit in the small storage compartment on the rear of the bike. 
Just those few items completely filled the small storage box. 

On the way back to the motel I passed of all things an internet cafe of
sorts.  It was actually a coffee shop that offered rental of a computer 
along with a great cup of coffee.  At least that was what the sign 
promised.  I went inside the way too clean coffee shop. 

The coffee was forgettable but they did have an old laptop they rented
to me.  I pulled up the map on yahoo without signing in.  My old 
account was dead to me.  I would need to setup a new one but not at 
that moment.  I copied down directions for a fifty-five mile ride I 
planned to make the next day.  The route kept me off the Interstate 
highways.  I made my plans along older two lane roads.  I hoped that I 
could do more, but I didn't plan to push it that first day. 

I almost activated the cell phone but decided against it.  I had no idea
when I would need the phone, so I decided to wait until I settled 
somewhere.  The next town would probably be only temporary, but I 
decided I would do an activation there.  I did activate the credit card 
though.  I used the new name and the phony address. 

I left most of the coffee as I couldn't figure out how to carry it back
to the motel.  I stopped at a burger joint on the way and took the bag 
of burgers to the room.  I was sure that they had a coke machine there 
so I decided not to try to deal with the burger shack coke. 

After dinner I turned in for the night.  I had used the lock the dealer
included with the Tomos to chain it to a post.  Being on the back side 
I didn't really expect anyone to notice it. 

Before I left the next morning, I walked across the parking lot to a
fast food restaurant that served breakfast.  I tried to get enough 
calories in me so that I could skip lunch.  It was my usual eating 
habit.  The food wasn't bad for one of those plastic and cardboard 
places. 

I left the motel for the last time around eight.  My plan was to be at
my next stop by two and then to find a place to spend the night.  My 
final destination was a little over a hundred miles away, but I was in 
no hurry to get there.  If I saw something I liked along the way I 
might even stay there.  There was no real plan.  I tried to keep the 
getaway just a series of random choices. 

I double checked to make sure the bike was full of gasoline before I
left.  The gas tank was a bit over a gallon in capacity so I could 
easily make my next stop.  At least that was the plan. 

At twenty miles an  hour it was really slow going even on fairly flat
ground.  Not to mention that motorist on even uncrowded highways get 
pissed very easily.  I managed to avoid most of the medium to large 
sized towns that day.  I couldn't avoid them all.  Actually I counted 
on not being able to avoid them.  I still needed a computer of some 
kind. 

Since I had skipped lunch, I made it to my next stop around 3PM.  "Is
that gonna be all," the slightly more than a teenage boy asked. 

"Well the gas, the hot dog and some information should do." I replied. 

"Well the gas and the hot dog come to $5,12  The information is free." 

"Fair enough," I replied placing cash on the counter.  Since he didn't
speak I asked. "Is there a Wal-mart anywhere close?" 

Out on the highway about ten miles south," he replied. 

"Is there anyway to get there without going on the highway?" 

"Sure but it's really a pain."  He shook his head as he gave me detailed
directions. 

I ate the dog and drank the canned coke on a picnic table outside the
convenience store.  I found a motel on the way to the Wal-mart store.  
At Wal-mart I bought a very small net book computer.  It was similar to 
a laptop only smaller and with a lot less power.  I could have got a 
cheap laptop for a hundred bucks more, but I was buying size not 
features. 

The new day started early again.  I took a quick shower, then put on
clean underwear.  I tossed the linen, which I had worn the day before.  
First I put it into an empty Wal-mart bag, then into the dumpster in 
the parking lot.  I doubted seriously that the maid saved all the 
underwear for dna tests but it seemed a safer move anyway. 

I never did get an internet connection even though I had a wireless
card.  Nobody seemed to have an unprotected wireless network in the 
area.  Most businesses and even home computers with wireless 
connections were encrypted making them useless to anyone else.  I had 
the wireless connector as part of the computer so I figured I would at 
least check. 

One of the applications that made the net book appeal to me was a built
in GPS program.  I had used it the night before in the motel room so I 
knew how to start my day.  I had decided to skip breakfast and start 
heading toward the coast.  I could get within twenty miles of the ocean 
by lunch, I thought. 

A cup of coffee and much less than a gallon of gas got me started.  I
rode the bike a couple of hours then stopped for a bathroom break and 
more coffee.  I was about thirty or so miles from my day's goal.  It 
figured that it was time to start asking about places to live.  GPS and 
maps could tell one just so much.  If I wanted to know more it was time 
to interrogate the locals. 

"So, I'm headed to the beach, do you have any suggestions," I asked it
of the guy behind the counter.  I asked him because he looked as though 
he spoke English as a native language. 

"Well there are three or four beach towns along the Georgia coast.  None
of them as famous as the Florida or even the South Carolina ones." 

"I'm planning to stay a while so I'm not looking for the tourist
experience.  I guess a small town close to the beaches would be nice.  
Something close enough to maybe work there but far enough away so that 
I could afford to rent a place." 

"Lots of those just look around." he suggested. 

"I plan to do that but I need a place to start." 

"Why don't you get off the Interstate here and just ride down highway 17
till you come to a place that suits you." 

His advice wasn't really all that good, but it was encouraging.  I
pushed on another twenty miles when I saw a sign for St. Marys Ga.  It 
had a nice sound, and my GPS had it as a pretty easy find, so I made 
the left turn toward the town.  Leaving one old highway for another 
didn't really change the flat landscape much at all.  There was more of 
a water feel and smell as I pushed along.  That was a good sign, I 
thought. 

I was road weary when I pulled into Saint Marys.  It was a pretty little
river town just a few miles from the coast.  I was too tired to do any 
exploring so I kept an eye open for a hotel or motel which wouldn't ask 
too many questions. 

I could always use the Mike Abrams ID.  He sure as hell wasn't going to
need it for a while.  Just in case you wonder how I happened to have 
all his information.  It's really pretty simple.  His was the biggest 
case I ever worked.  So I copied all the documents in his arrest file 
to keep as a souvenir.  Everybody has something they obsess over.  Mike 
Abrams was mine.  When I decided to take off on the spur of the moment, 
his was the only identity that I had handy.  His arrest record had 
everything I would ever need to do most simple things.  As long as I 
didn't push it, I could be Mike forever. 

I found a cafe near the river so I stopped for a cup of coffee and a
piece of pie.  "Hi there," the cute little waitress said in greeting.  
"What are you having today." 

She was way too perky for my taste.  "Coffee and whatever pie you have
that is good." 

"I like the pecan but a lot of folks like the chocolate better." 

"Make it pecan then," I suggested. 

After only a short wait she was back.  "So if I was looking for a cheap
place to stay in St. Marys where should I look." 

"Most of the contractors stay at the Paki Palace." she answered. 

"Oh where is that?" 

"Go back toward the highway and turn right on church street.  You can't
miss it."  She thought a minute then added, "That ain't the real name 
you know.  The sign will say, St. Marys Inn.   Us locals call it the 
Paki Palace cause of the owners?" 

"Yeah, I got it."I replied smiling. 

"You gonna be working here?" 

"Probably just stay the night, but I'm looking for a good place to
settle in this area." 

"Well St. Marys is kinda small.  If you like nothing going on around
you, this is the place for you." 

"I think I might like nothing going on around me.  At least I think I
would like it for a while." 

I checked into the motel where I left the bag in the bathtub again.  I
stopped at the first gas station I saw.  Filling up the tank was less 
than three dollars every time I did it.  That might have been the only 
good thing about the little bike.  I mean it had no space for carrying 
things and it was way too slow to be an effective means of 
transportation but still it was filling a need I had at that moment. 

I took a slow tour of the town.  With a population of under 20,000 it
wasn't hard to see it all in an afternoon.  Since I wanted cookies all 
of a sudden and since the cokes from the motel machine were well over a 
dollar, I decided to stop at a grocery store.  I had spotted the 
smaller mom and pop grocery store earlier in my tour.  I passed a big 
chain grocery store on my way to the smaller store. 

Things at the mom and pop grocery cost a little more, but you can't get
a feel for a place by going into a business that looks the same in 
every town.  What you need is to visit diners and hometown businesses.  
I wasn't at all surprised to see the big bulletin board with thing for 
sale posted all over it.  I had hoped and almost expected it to be 
there. 

I went back to the bulletin board with a plastic bag containing a
package of generic cookies, which were a knock off of chocolate covered 
Oreos, and a 6 pack of coke in small bottles. 

Since I didn't need any fishing equipment or a car, the advertisements
didn't seem to be of much help.  There were a couple of apartments for 
rent but I didn't hold out much hope.  It would be very unlikely for me 
to find something so easily.  Still it was worth pulling the bit of 
paper with the landlords phone numbers.  In both cases they were hand 
written. 

Since my cell phone wasn't activated, I returned to the motel before I
made the call.  "Hello," I said once the woman on the other end spoke.  
"I am calling about the apartment.  Is it still for rent?" 

"Why yes it is, would you like to see it?" 

"That depends, do you require a lease?" 

"If you do not wish a lease, I would ask for three months rent in
advance.  The first month's rent, one month's rent as a security 
deposit and the last months rent as well." 

"So it's a three month lease?" 

"I suppose you could say that." 

"I picked up your ad at the grocery store.  It didn't give a lot of
details.  Frankly I don't remember what you wrote." 

"Well the apartment is $275 which includes the electric.  It really is
just one room over a garage." 

"Would I get to use the garage." 

"I use it for storage so there isn't room for a car, but you could store
things in there if you can find room." 

"Is the apartment furnished?" 

"Not really, but the things in the garage were left by tenants over the
years.  You are welcome to use any of that furniture you wish." 

"Then yes, I would like to take a look at the place."  I said that with
pencil in hand so that I could write the address down.  The GPS system 
in the netbook would route me there. 

As we had arranged the night before, I met the slum lord at nine the
next morning.  The house in front of the garage had been converted to a 
duplex.  From the three units on the property she must have been 
getting close to a grand and a half per month.  I guessed that the 
apartments in the house were pretty large, since it was a big old 
house.  The garage as well as the house was painted gray with a rich 
looking burgundy trim.  The paint looked reasonable new. 

The garage was a little wider than a one car garage which was a good
sign, since the upstairs apartment was a not a full two story area.  It 
was more like a 1 1/2 story with dormers. 

When the woman who owned the house showed up she was driving a black
corvette.  She was able to exit the low slung vette only because she 
was trim and wearing jeans and a knit top.  The first things I noticed 
was that she had really good cleavage.  I had a feeling she showed it 
off to everyone, not just prospective tenants.  I did hope she wasn't 
trying to distract me. 

She was about fifty so it didn't hold my attention all that long.  I had
to admit that she had held up pretty darn well.  She had a kind of 
comfortable look.  Part of it was that the jeans she wore which likely 
cost more than I would have paid for ten pairs.  She also was about 
twenty pounds overweight which helped to make her seem more comfortable 
than beautiful.  Yes comfortable looking was the best description for 
her. 

"You must me Mike," she suggested as I approached. 

"That's me.  I didn't get your name last night." 

"My name is Caroline.  So lets go take a look."  I followed her to the
outside wooden stairs.  They were nice and solid.  That was also a good 
sign, I thought.  When she opened the door, I walked into the 
reasonably bright room.  The walls had obviously been painted after the 
last tenant left.  I was sure it was a half assed job.  Those paint 
jobs always were. 

The floor was black and white squares of vinyl tile.  It was set up like
a checker board.  There were windows everywhere.  Two large ones on 
each end, and smaller ones in dormers on each side.  I had a feeling 
the place had been meant for storage originally and that the windows 
were the only light at some point. 

In the rear on one side was a small refrigerator and stove.  Between
them was a large sink.  Since it didn't have a cabinet, it looked more 
like an old fashioned janitor's sink.  In the other rear corner were 
two bank type partitions. Those and the outside walls made the walls of 
the bathroom.  There was no door on the bathroom.  Not a lot of privacy 
but the place definitely was not made for entertaining. 

The bathroom was tiny but it did have a shower stall, toilet and small
sink.  All of them were side by side on the back wall.  The one room 
had more space that it appeared from the outside. 

"How large is this place?" I asked after the three minute tour. 

"It's 22 feet long and 15 feet wide." 

"That's small but it does seem a little larger." I admitted 

"That's the dormers with the window seats.  Those seats open for some
additional storage." 

"So that little corner cabinet looking thing in front is the closet?" 

"Yes it's small but it's probably enough for a guy." 

"Probably," I agreed. 

There only heat was from a natural gas wall heater vented through the
wall near the floor.  It reminded me that the apartment was mostly 
under the roof. 

Well I like it but not $275 a month worth.  I see it more as a $250 a
month place.  I guess I'll have to keep looking." 

"I can't lower the rent, I'm sorry." she said. 

"No problem, I understand.  I'm sure the right person will come along
one day."  Just about that time a car went by with the radio blaring 
music in Spanish.  I just smiled at Caroline. 

"How about a compromise Mike.  Six months at $250 with the understanding
that at the end of six months I will raise the rent to $275." 

"Well I suppose that is fair."  I peeled off the 750 dollars from the
money clip in my front pocket.  She didn't seem surprised that I used 
cash instead of a check. 

"So when do you want to move in?" 

"I was thinking right now," I replied. 

"The power and water stays on, but you will need to have anything thing
else you want turned on.  Here is a list of the numbers,"  with that 
she handed me a new resident brochure prepared by the chamber of 
commerce.  It did have the addresses and numbers of the utilities as 
well as the cable company, but not much else of interest to me. 

I did find from the brouchure that St. Marys was a small town but it was
also the county seat.  A private company supplied the gas fortunately 
they had an office right in town.  The phone company didn't get my 
money, since I planned to activated my prepaid cell phone.  It was on 
my list of things to do just as soon as I had a reliable internet 
connection.  It was still warm so I wouldn't have bothered to turn on 
the gas, except the water heater was gas.  The cook stove was also gas 
but it was less important than a hot shower at the end of the day.  
After I arrange for the gas to be turned on and the water heater lit, I 
was more or less moved into the garage. 

My furniture all came from the storage area below the apartment.  I
found a sofa with no cushions and two over stuffed chains that looked 
like hell.  The chairs were in really bad shape, however the cushions 
from them almost fit the small light weight sofa.  I figured that I 
would pick up a sheet or something like that to just throw over it all. 
 There was no bed of any kind in the garage.  It looked as thought it 
would be an air mattress for me. 

I went looking for the air mattress while I was out for lunch.  I didn't
find one, but I did find a sleeping mat and very light weight sleeping 
bag.  The sleeping bag opened to make a comforter should I ever get a 
real bed.  The store was close enough so that I could very carefully 
carry my purchases home on the bike.  Neither of them was heavy, I just 
had to tie them carefully to various parts of the bike.  I also rode 
home at a dead crawl. 

While searching the storage room for what I thought would be the last
time, I found a couple of those really cheap, uncomfortable wooden bar 
stools.   Since there was no table of any kind, I decided to use an old 
metal ironing board I saw in the corner as an eat on bar.   I was sure 
it had not been used for anything at all in the last ten years. 

It turned out to be one of my better ideas.  It was stable enough to be
a temporary computer desk as well.  I found that I could piggy back on 
the wireless connection of someone in the neighborhood.  I had no idea 
who they were.  I doubted that it was a computer that could track me 
down.  Most likely it was just some internet novice like me. 

I awoke early the first morning in my one room apartment.  I didn't jump
up and take off for the day, instead I lay on my sleeping pad thinking. 
 I did that because I wasn't sure I could get up from the floor without 
a crane or at least a forklift.  I supposed that I could, if I took a 
little time to get my brain out of its sleep fogged condition. 

I spent some of the time by comparing my life at that moment with the
life I had lived only a week before.  Back before I became a thief, I 
lived in a fairly nice one bedroom apartment.  I drove a ten year old 
Ford and had a job.  Today I lived in a one room apartment, rode a 
Tomos moped, and had a bag full of stolen money.  I wasn't exactly 
living it up on my ill gotten gains but then again, I didn't plan on 
'hitting a lick at a snake' for the rest of my life either. 

My first real life thought of the day was, I don't have a coffee pot and
I need coffee badly.  The short term fix was to be found at the burger 
burger restaurant a few blocks away.  Burger burger was a knock off of 
Dairy Queen.  It was a locally owned burger joint anyway.  In the 
mornings they served a breakfast of sorts.  I skipped the sausage and 
egg sandwich on a hamburger bun and just went for the large coffee 
served in a paper cup. 

I got it from the drive through so that I could take it a block over to
sit in the river front park.  I love water of any kind.  I would have 
preferred the ocean, but the river front would do in a pinch.  The 
coffee and the smell of the water, combined with the bustle of the 
amateur fishermen headed out for a few hours of fun on the river, or 
out in the sound, brought me back to life. 

The Tomos had very little carry capacity but it did have enough for a
coffee maker.  Since there was no Wallymart in town, I rode to the 
local a dollar store.  I really didn't see much for a dollar, but it 
did have discount and discontinued merchandise.  The coffee maker was 
ten bucks and the coffee was eight more.  It was a really large plastic 
container of coffee so I knew that it was going to be a problem. 

I could get the pot tied to the back of the bike but I had no room for
the coffee.  I was wondering how hard it would be to hold a plastic bag 
with a container of coffee while I rode, when I saw a wire egg basket.  
It looked as though it might work so I bought it.  It was one of the 
few things that really was a dollar.  I conned the lady behind the 
counter into giving me a coat hanger so that I could attach the basket 
to the Tomos. 

The egg basket was much to small and too light to hold much of anything.
 I needed a real bicycle basket.  One of those big ones like the old 
time paper boys used would have been ideal.  The only way for me to get 
one was ebay.  The problem was most of the ebay sellers have gone to 
only accepting pay pal and I had no way to pay.  The answer lay in a 
round about money scheme.  I loaded two hundred bucks to my prepaid 
credit card at a local convenience store.  Then I went on line that 
same afternoon to make a deposit with paypal.  I used the credit card 
to pay for the deposit. 

After the transaction cleared I went to ebay and bought a real bicycle
basket.  the larger basket would cut down on the number of trips I had 
to make, but it still wasn't enough transport space.  At least it 
hadn't been too expensive, under thirty bucks including shipping. 

What I really needed was to do laundry to keep from buys a zillion
dollars worth of clothes.  Not to mention that it had rained over night 
and I knew that I would sure as hell not enjoy a bike ride in the rain 
to get to a restaurant. 

I needed to buy groceries, and more than would fit in even the new
basket of the Tomos.  St. Marys is so small there was no place to buy a 
bike trailer but it turned out that it did have what I needed.  I went 
on line looking for bike trailer ideas.  The best idea was to either 
build one or adapt something else.  I chose to adapt something I could 
find in St. Marys. 

I went to the downtown hardware store, yes it was the kind of town that
still had a place in the downtown for stores.  It was far from a town 
with wall to wall lawyer's offices.  Since it was the county seat there 
were a couple but they were across from the courthouse.  Even I kind of 
expected that to be the case. 

From the hardware store I bought a battery powered drill, which came
with a cheap set of bits.  I also bought an assortment of nuts bolts 
and washers. 

After I managed to get all that home, I went back to the dollar store
and bought a child's red wagon.  I bought the smallest one so that I 
could get it home tied onto the rear of the Tomos.  Even so I had to 
stop three times in as many miles to reposition it.  One of those times 
it fell off completely.  In the end I did get it home.  I spent a full 
hour on the ten minute assembly job.  Even then I did not attach the 
pull tongue.  Instead I found an electrician who would sell me some 
conduit and even bend it for me.  I used the pictures of real trailers 
to guess at the angles.    After the electrician cut the tongue off so 
that the wagon wouldn't trail too far behind, I slid the conduit into 
the pull tongue of the wagon and bolted it in place. 

When I was ready for a test run, I gave it a real life test.  On its
first run the trailer was filled with canned cokes and frozen pizza.  I 
figured I needed those things most of all.  Just in case of rain.  The 
little red wagon was quite a hit with the people I passed on the 
street. 

I decided, after having it swing side to side now and then, that it
would never go more than to the store or to the laundromat.  If I went 
slow enough it seemed to be pretty stable.  I knew that it would work 
but just barely.  I would surely need to build a better one someday 
soon. Nothing would ever be as eye catching but that was fine as well. 

I didn't have any entertainment except the computer, so I spent a couple
of  hours watching the news and old TV shows on line.  It wasn't a bad 
day I decided, just before I put my body back onto the one inch dense 
foam sleeping pad. 

On day two I went back to the Dollar store.  I wandered down the aisle
picking up small tools.  I had picked up a three vise grip set the day 
before.  I had used that to build the wagon/trailer.  I knew that those 
things did a number on nuts and bolt heads so I wanted a real wrench 
set.  At ten bucks a set, I bought two metric and two sae sets.  I also 
bought a socket set with both metric and sae sockets. 

Those along with a few household items made their way into my little red
wagon.  I rode very carefully until I got it all home.  The tailer did 
better with the larger load.  There was a threat of showers so I rushed 
out again. I made it to the grocery store and back just before the rain 
shower dumped a half inch of rain on everything around me. 

My lease agreement forbid the use of window air conditioners and
microwave ovens.  Both would have cost Caroline, aka the slumlord, 
extra money.  Also most likely the wiring was way under code to be safe 
with that kind of load.  It was a very old building.  Probably as old 
as the house in front, which had to be close to a hundred years old. 

The box fan and toaster oven came from the dollar store on a quick trip
after the rain ended.  I hoped that those would be my last purchases of 
the day. 

It was well after lunch, when I rode the Tomos out for fast food.  I
took a bag of cheap burgers and a canned coke to the park.  I ate as I 
watched the workers along the docks.  I had never really given any 
thought to what goes on around a marina.  There were people loading and 
unloading boats all day long.  Most of them were pleasure boats to be 
sure, but now and then a commercial fishing boat would come through.  
If the fishermen were headed in that time of the day, I expected them 
to be full.  There were a several more hours of daylight left for those 
who didn't fill the hole early. 

"Hey old man," the teenager called to me. 

"Yeah?" I replied. 

"Gimme five bucks,"  The demand was clear enough. 

"If I had five dollars to spare, I would be driving a car instead of
that moped."  I thought it sounded reasonable. 

"I don't care whether you can spare it or not.  Give me the five or I'll
hurt you." 

I had a quick debate with myself.  I could give him the money and draw
no attention to myself, or I could put him in the hospital.  If I put 
him in the hospital, I would come to the attention of the police.  I 
really didn't need that, but it galled my ass to even contemplate 
paying for safety.  Extortion is like herpes it never really goes away. 


"Tell you what kid, you walk away and I won't hurt you."  I gave him my
best bad man smile.  He wasn't buying it.  I could tell by the look in 
his eyes.  He didn't recognize that old men don't really subscribe to 
the movie version of a fair fight. 

The kid smiled and pulled a knife from his pocket.  He flicked it to the
open position. "Now you gonna give me my money?" 

"No, but you just moved from a simple ass whopping' to a beat down." 

He made a few classic mistakes.  First of all, a knife is a close up and
personal killing appliance.  The kid stood back and tried to do a real 
life version of the movie rebel without a cause. 

When he swung the knife horizontally in front of me, I did what he
wouldn't do.  I closed on him in a hurry.  The knife was still in the 
wrong place for him, when I reached him.  The first thing I did was to 
get hold of his arm to prevent him from bringing the knife back at me.  
Then I simply kneed him in the groin to end the fight.  A little pain 
pisses a guy off, but a lot of pain to someone who isn't used to it, 
will disable him completely.  The kid was in a lot of pain for sure. 

I had to hold him up as I turned his back to me.  I wrapped him in a
choke hold then whispered in his ear.  "Drop the knife and I might let 
you live.  Hold on to it and I'm going to snap your neck."  He made the 
right choice. 

I was thankful, since I certainly did not want to kill him.  I had
already bagged my limit of humans  for the season.  That is not to say 
that I wouldn't have, I just didn't want to.  The next question was 
what to do with  him.  I did not want to call the cops, but I knew that 
I might not have a choice. 

I was about to put him to sleep with the choke hold, when a man came
running across the street from one of the stores.  "What the hell are 
you doing with my son?" 

"Right now I'm trying to decide whether I should call the cops or kill
him."  I looked hard at the red faced man.  "If you take one more step, 
you will make up my mind for me." 

"Why are you doing this?" he asked more in control. 

"He tried to rob me at the point of that knife.  Someone forgot to teach
him that things are not always what they seem."  I said with a nasty 
smiled. 

"Robbie is that true?" the man asked with the color draining from his
face. 

"Tell him Robbie and remember where you are." 

"Yeah Daddy," he replied.  Then he turned his attention to me.  "Did you
have to kick me in the balls." 

"Actually, I did that just for fun Robbie."  I turned my attention to
his father.  "If I release this thug wannabe, can you handle him?" 

"You bet your ass I can handle him," was the man's reply. 

I pushed Robbie hard toward his father.  He collapsed.  It seemed that
it took him that long to understand the full extent of his injury.  He 
was going to be sitting carefully for a day or two. 

"Who are you Mister?" the boy's father asked. 

"I'm just a new resident.  I hope this isn't how everyone gets
welcomed." 

"It isn't, and this one," he said pointing to the kid, "Won't be doing
this again ever." 

"I'm gonna hold you to that," I said. 

I had come way too close to being part of a police investigation.  I had
to be smarter not tougher from now on.  I knew it and I promised myself 
to work on it. 

I drove home worried again about the money.  Not only could it be found
by some petty thief like Robbie, but also by the cops if they tossed 
the place.  I had to concentrate on where to hide the money next. 

I finally got around to counting the money.  I had a feeling it was over
half a million dollars and I was right.  It was 547,000 dollars and 
change.  I had spent over two grand it seemed.  I expected that the 
hemorrhage of hundred dollar bills had ended, but I couldn't be sure. 

At the end of day two, I still hadn't decided on a place to hide the
money.  I went to bed on the floor with it still hanging over my head. 

Day three in the apartment was a Saturday.  I knew that because everyone
kept telling me how glad they were that the day before had been Friday. 
 I had no expectations that Saturday would be any different from any 
other day for me. 

As I lay in bed the idea to hide the money began to work itself out. 
First thing I did was a threat assessment. Then decide I had to 
determine how best to counter the reasonable threats.  Some of the 
threats were pretty remote.  Enough so that even considering them was a 
waste of time and resources.  For instance there could be a nuclear 
attack by terrorists.  That did not mean I planned to build a bomb 
shelter in which to hide the money. 

The most likely things to cause the loss of the money were: burglary by
persons with no prior knowledge of the money, burglary by person 
knowing I had the money, cops finding me and searching the apartment, 
cops searching the apartment for other reasons, and of course there was 
fire or wind loss. 

I had taken them all into consideration and devised a way to hide the
money that might thwart all of them except a concentrated search not 
likely to happen.  I mean, they wouldn't be searching for a body.  
Since it was just money, I didn't expect them to use ground penetrating 
radar.  Yes, it was a lot of money but still just money. 

Like most solutions it had taken time for the proper number of facts and
circumstances to interact.  First of all banks, even safety deposit 
boxes, were out of the question.  There would be too many questions and 
paperwork requirements for me to even consider them.  Storage buildings 
were not really an option either.  They had video surveillance, and 
they reserved the right to examine the contents of the stored items for 
safety purposes.  That most often happened if you missed your payment.  
Even if they never looking inside, they too were subject to fires.  
There were no meat lockers close by so that those wasn't an option 
either. 

The facts that came together were simple.  I had accumulated enough
tools to need a toolbox.  So why not buy an extra one for the money.  
It needed a better container than the black backpack regardless. The 
toolbox would give it very little protection from prying eyes unless it 
were hidden away from them.  So where to hide the box was the next 
question.  The box alone wasn't even a step closer to securing the 
money. 

However the metal tool box would protect the money from insects and the
like.  I couldn't hide it inside the tiny apartments there were just no 
places to hide something that large. I did have access to the storage 
garage below.  I used it to store the Tomos between uses, so it 
wouldn't be odd to see me going in and out of there. 

I remembered the legs of the sofa which I had removed from the storage
room.  I had to wash them because the garage had a dirt floor.  The 
dirt floor was almost the final element.  I would simply bury the metal 
tool box, with most of the money tucked safely inside under the dirt 
floor of the storage area.  I was pretty much the only one to go in and 
out of the garage.  Caroline might go in it a couple of times a year 
but no more. 

The trick was to do it so that no one would notice.  Someone surely
would notice a light on in the middle of the night.  Even though there 
were no window the light would show through the cracks around the 
doors.  The problem came together the same morning I worked out the 
other details. 

"Hi there," the greeting came from a young woman I had seen getting in
and out of a car which was parked evenings in the drive.  She was 
obviously one of the neighbors.  When I walked toward her she 
continued.  "I'm your neighbor Lucy Evans." 

She stood waiting for me to speak so I did.  "Hi, I'm Mike.  I live over
the garage."  I realized how stupid that sounded.  "Of course you knew 
that." 

She laughed then said, "Yes Caroline told me to say hi when I saw you. 
This is the first time I have seen you outside." 

"Well, I'm in and out all day." 

"Oh well, I work most of the day. I work for the school system." 

"Ah a teacher?" 

"No, I'm am the librarian at southwest middle school."  She paused a
moment then asked, "Do you work?" 

"You mean Caroline didn't fill you in."  I went on quickly so as not to
let her get offended.  "I'm disabled.  Too many heart attacks and a 
little brain damage."  It was as good a lie as any.  It sounded 
reasonable.  It should, I had been rehearsing it for a few days. 

"Oh I'm sorry," she said. 

"So how about the other neighbors." 

"The other neighbor is Jeff.  Jeff plays in a band of some kind.  They
work mostly local but do a couple of tours a year.  He is out on one 
now, which explains why you didn't know." 

"Sorry, I don't understand." 

"When Jeff is in town, he practices every day between 2 and 4.  If he
was here and you were around during the day, you would have heard him." 


"Ah I see.  When is he due back?" 

"Monday I believe."  We had run out of small talk so she waited a decent
amount of time before saying, "I was headed to the grocery store so I 
guess I need to go." 

"Yes I suppose so.  I'm headed to the hardware store myself." 

Actually I had breakfast by the marina before going to the dollar store
then the hardware store.  That afternoon, I packed the money into 
plastic freezer bags, then into one of the tool boxes I had bought that 
same morning.  I put $540,000 thousand dollar into freezer bags, then 
the bags into the gunmetal gray toolbox. 

Since there were no windows in the garage part of the building, I didn't
worry about being seen while I dug the hole.  I used the civilian 
version of the GI entrenching tool, which I had purchased at the 
hardware store.  I bought it at the same time I bought the two tool 
boxes. 

I marked a spot on the wall of the concrete block garage, then dug a
hole.  Fortunately the soil was easy to dig.  I didn't have to go down 
to the hard pan as I might if I were to dig a foundation.  I just 
needed to get about a foot down.  The hole was about a foot deep and 
eight inches wide.  It was about a foot and a half long. 

Once I had the hole dug, and the box inside it, I covered it and then
spread out the excess dirt.  It might take a while for the dirt I had 
spread to mix with the existing soil. I hoped that it would blend in 
sooner than later.  I placed a chair over the spot to hide it while the 
dig marks healed.  I had about a 99.9% positive feeling about the 
hiding place. 

Just for continuity I placed the bag containing slightly over five grand
in the bottom of the second tool box.  It had been a good afternoon's 
work.  I had just enough time for a shower before the knock on my door 
came. 

"Hi again, I don't want to be a pest, but since we have met I thought I
might ask a favor of you.  You can say no I won't be upset." 

"What's the favor?"  I expected something major. 

"I have a window that is stuck.  In the six months I have lived here I
have only had it open once and I really would like it open."  She was 
babbling but I didn't mind.  Young women were attractive when they 
babbled.  Lucy was in her late twenties and reasonably attractive.  She 
would have been a knock out if she shed about thirty pounds or so.  Her 
hips were just wide enough to be distracting. 

"Well I can give it a try for you.  Do you have any Vaseline?" 

"I think so why?" 

"If you get it for me I can probably fix it so that you can open the
window anytime you want." 

"Wow that would be great.  If Caroline would let me have an air
conditioner, I wouldn't need to run so many fans.  You know it isn't 
the heat so much, it's the humidity." 

"So I've heard." 

My windows were crank out, but the ones in the house were typical double
hung windows with a dozen coats of paint on them.  The first thing I 
did was to cut into the window seams with my pocket knife.  Then I went 
to the garage and found some short pieces of  scrap 1x2 that had been 
left over from repairs to the house no doubt.  I used them to pry on 
the window.  There was a small piece of lift hardware that was useless 
for anything else. 

When the window gave way, I used Vaseline liberally on the window track.
 It only opened a few inches the first time.  I closed it and forced it 
open again.  Each time it went a few inches higher.  I did the Vaseline 
thing again.  It took greasing it three times but it finally went all 
the way up. 

"Wow it works so well now.  I might have you do that to all my windows."
 It looked as though I had a fan.  I wasn't sure how I felt about that. 
 I didn't need a daughter type and she certainly wasn't looking for a 
man my age to get involved with.  Even I could tell that. 

Sunday was a quiet day in the apartment.  I would have done more but
most local stores were closed or at least open only half a day.  I 
spent my time between the park overlooking the marina and cleaning the 
apartment.  A fairly boring day. 

"Hello again," Lucy said standing on my stairs. 

"More stuck windows?" I smiled to soften the words. 

"No, I came to see if you have had dinner yet." 

"No, I was about to head out to pick up something." 

"I do that most week nights but I try to cook on the weekends.  I am
making pasta with meat sauce.  If you would like, you could join me."  
She actually looked down as she asked.  See looked like a teenager 
caught passing notes in school.  She was embarrassed and I couldn't 
blame her.  She had invited a man to dinner, who was probably as old as 
her father. 

"Well if it isn't any trouble sure," I replied.  I usually don't care
for pasta, but if it had a good homemade sauce I would give it a try.  
Besides it was the Christian thing to do.  Obviously she had to work up 
the nerve to ask, so it would be in poor taste for me to refuse.  It 
would really be a blow to her ego, I thought. 

She left and I sat drinking coffee for an hour while she worked on
dinner. It was seven when I went to her apartment.  Her apartment was 
on the far side of the house.  The man she called Jeff had the 
apartment between us. 

The pasta and salad were both excellent.  Lucy loved cheese and so did
I.  It was a treat to eat the pasta that reminded me of baked 
spaghetti.  Over dinner she filled me in on her family first, then on 
Caroline.  There was a lot for her to tell but none of it seemed real.  
Neither her family, nor the fact that Caroline was a practicing witch. 

After dinner I helped her with the dishes then tried to leave.  "Well
thanks for dinner, since you have to work tomorrow, I'll leave now."  
It sounded better than  you bore the hell out of me. 

"Oh stay and visit a bit.  I am really enjoying the conversation.  I
don't talk to many adults." 

"Well if you are sure I won't be intruding," I suggested.  She didn't
bite. 

"Oh course not." 

After another hour of inane conversation I decided hurt feelings or not
I was leaving.  "Well it's almost my bedtime and I  have a few things I 
need to do." 

"Oh okay, but please come back anytime."  She said that to my back as I
walked to the door. 

I turned to say something pleasant and found her in my face.  It was
obvious she was expecting me to kiss her.  I took a deep breath and did 
it.  I hoped that I hadn't misread her. 

I obviously hadn't misread her.  She tried hard to press her body inside
me.  I broke the embrace then took a deep breath.  "Wow,  I need to go 
take a cold shower," I said lightly. 

"Or stay a while longer," she suggested. 

I was more than a little afraid to do that.  She seemed about half a
bubble out of plumb.  "Honey, I'm old enough to be your dad." 

"My dad doesn't kiss me like that," she said smiling. 

"Let's give this some serious thought before we do something that we
might regret."  I was serious She was just a little too close to home 
for me.  And like I said, she didn't seem quite right. 

I didn't sleep well Sunday night.  When I awoke Monday morning, I felt
like I had a hangover.  I lay on my sleeping pad even longer than 
usual.  Not just to get my wits about me, but also to decide what to do 
about my neighbor.  Even though my plans were few and hastily developed 
they did not include romance.  Even if they had, it would not be with 
someone half my age or so close to home.  If I planned to stay put a 
while, and I did, then I had to make a decision about Lucy.  Whatever I 
decided I needed to keep her from being too curious about me. 

By the time I made it to a standing position, I had decided for sure to
avoid Lucy.  I decided to go out of my way to avoid her but I would be 
pleasant, when I did meet her.  As long as she didn't pursue me, it 
should work.  If she continued showing up at my door, I would have to 
formulate a plan "B". 

After my morning shower and three cups of coffee I was ready for the
day.  I rode the Tomos to the Burger Burger and bought an egg sandwich 
which I carried to the park overlooking the marina. 

"You come here almost as much as me," the old black man said. 

"I'm new here so you probably have a few more visits than me." 

"Yep I been comin' here since I retired.  Nothing much to do at home now
that the wife was gone to a better place." 

"Oh I'm sorry to hear that?"  I really was. 

"Yep moved to Florida with one of our daughters."  He grinned at me
because he had known what my reaction was going to be.  I smiled back 
since it was a harmless jest. 

"You ride that little red motor bike don't you?" he asked. 

"Yes I do.  It's a toy but seems to be a good one.  I have only had a it
a couple of weeks." 

"I seen lots of them little scooter things, but that's the first one
like that I seen." 

"Well it seems to be a little quieter than those.  Some of them sounds
like a weed eater." 

"Yep, don't see how those guy and gals stand the noise." 

"You said you were retired, what did you do?" 

"I ran a cafe.  Ran it right over there on main street across from the
marina.  Had a lot of fishermen and even some tourist come in now and 
then.  'Raised me six kids from that place.  Everyone one of them 
worked in there, and couldn't wait to get away.  Said they hated the 
smell of fish." He smiled to himself at the memory. 

"Yeah well kids are a trip.  I got a daughter that don't speak to me." 

"Oh, she got a reason or what?" 

"She thinks she has a reason, but God only knows what it is.  I sure as
hell don't." 

"So you are new to St. Marys,  What you planning to do here?" 

"Just about what I'm doing right now.  Eat breakfast looking at the
boats going out, then go home and clean house.  Probably come back and 
have dinner watching the boats come in." 

"You gonna get tired of that after a while." 

"Yeah, I probably will but maybe not for a long while.  What happened to
your cafe?" 

"I sold it when my wife left for Florida.  Didn't see much reason to
keep going.  All the kids were gone and I didn't need the money no 
more." 

"I'm called Ezra by the way." 

"I'm Mike," I replied. 

"Well Mike, I 'spect I'll be a seein' you." 

"I would think so.  It's a small town and a smaller park." 

"True enough." 

I got home in time to do nothing worth noting for two hours before I
made a peanut butter sandwich for lunch.  I decided that I would do 
that for lunch for a while.  I was eating too much greasy food.  I 
didn't want to get so fat that I couldn't ride the bike. 

After the peanut butter sandwich I checked the mail.  I wasn't expecting
the bike basket till Wednesday, but I wanted to keep on eye out for it 
anyway. 

I tried to watch last weeks TV shows on the computer but I got too
sleepy.  I took a nap, something I seldom did in my old life.  I woke 
up mid afternoon without feeling any guilt at all.  It took me a minute 
to realize that I had been awaken by the sound of a saxophone.  It 
seemed my neighbor Jeff had made it back from touring with his band. 

I gave up after twenty minutes and fired up the bike.  I filled it up
with gas at the convenience store.  As usual it took much less than a 
gallon of gasoline to fill it.  That was the upside of owning the toy.  
The down side was that it had beaten me to death during the ride to St. 
Marys. 

I remembered that Lucy had said that Jeff would be at it till 4pm, so I
decided to take a ride on the bike.  A ride just for fun would be a 
first for me.  I just wandered around the streets of St Marys first, 
then out into the country side.  I rode for an hour and a half and 
checked the odometer.  I had gone twenty five miles.  That was even 
with the stop and go of the city streets for a good part of it.  I knew 
then that I could ride into Jacksonville Florida, should I really need 
something I couldn't find in St. Marys or on line. 

I stopped for a pizza at a convenience store on the way home.  I heated
it in their microwave before I carried it and two canned diet cokes to 
the park.  I watched the boats come in while I had my early dinner. 

When I got home at five thirty there was a note on my door.  Come down
if you get bored, Lucy... 

Instead I watched those week old TV shows on my computer.  I went to bed
thinking I would probably get no further invitations from Lucy.  It was 
for the best, but I still felt a sense of loss. 

Over the next couple of days I slipped into a habit of eating twice a
day at the park and hanging around on the internet in the middle of the 
day and again at night.  I felt like I was keeping busy until it rained 
in the middle of the week. 

I had time to think about my life since my fall from grace.  It wasn't
interesting and it was barely fun, but I was at least surviving without 
kissing anyone's ass.  Even so I realized that it wasn't enough.  I 
needed to do more.  I had no idea what more would be, but I needed to 
do something different. 

During the second rainy day in a row, Lucy showed up to invite me out to
dinner.  Even though I had promised myself not to go out with her, I 
was more than ready.  We went to a home style restaurant which suited 
me just fine.  Lucy drove her jap car of course. 

I never was much for fancy food.  Not to  mention I felt blind in a
restaurant with ambiance. They kept the lights low so you couldn't see 
what the hell you were ordering or eating.  Lucy had shrimp and I had a 
steak.  The steak was good, but hell it's really hard to mess up a 
chunk of beef.  They even served a decent salad. 

I don't usually eat green but Lucy convinced me to try it.  I was glad
that I did.  It had a hint of fruit in the dressing.  I like fruit, to 
be honest I like sweets of any kind.  I seldom eat them because I love 
them too much.  I'm like an alcoholic with sugar.  One bite of ice 
cream leads to the whole half gallon. 

Somewhere during the conversation Lucy mentioned that she had a friend
from school who was being stalked.  The police wouldn't really do 
anything because the stalker was a woman.  Well it wasn't just because 
was a woman, but because she never did anything that left a trail. 

According to Lucy, the friend's stalker only spoke to her in person. 
She never left messages or even called her on the phone at all.  She 
was just around places she should not have been.  She was verbally 
abusive most of the time.  Even threatening violence but there was no 
proof for the cops to act on. 

"So why is the woman stalking her?"  I couldn't quite get a handle on
it.  Lucy hadn't given a reason just the facts. 

"Best Becky can tell the woman is a Lesbian." 

"Ah, the fatal attraction thing?" I asked. 

"That's part of it.  The other part is Becky told her she thought
Lesbians were sick and going to hell." 

"So the stalker took that personal."  I chuckled under my breath. 

"It seems so.  Now she threatens Becky any time she sees her.  She goes
out of her way to be around Becky so that she can upset her I think." 

It really sounded interesting to me.  It was something I felt like I
could handle without involving the cops at all.  Still there was a 
slight risk that it could 'out' me.  Even that seemed like a challenge 
I would relish. 

"Would you like for me to talk to your friend and see if I can help?" 

"Would you?  She feels so all alone and cut off from everyone here.  She
is from Maine.  I think I might be her only friend." 

"Sure give her my cell number."  I suggested as I wrote it on a napkin. 
Lucy changed the subject, but my mind stayed with Becky and her 
problem." 

I picked up the tab for dinner.  Lucy put up a token resistance then
said, "Thank you." 

"Tell you what," she said once we were in the car.  "How about I pick up
some donuts and make coffee.  We both spend too much time alone." 

I knew better but I was bored silly.  "Sure but where can you get a
decent donut in St. Marys." 

"At the police station of course."  She kept her eyes on the road or she
would have seen me go pale. 

"Only in St. Marys would the cops have a donut shop in the police
station." I suggested. 

"It isn't in the station silly.  It's in a convenience store across the
street.  It's kind of a joke here.  There is a donut delivery truck 
that comes from Jacksonville every morning.  The 'pack and tote', has a 
special storage thing for them.  Anyway, what kind do you want?  They 
have plain, chocolate, jelly, and glazed.  Some kind of fruit things 
probably but you never know what kind." 

"Chocolate I guess," I replied. 

The donuts were good, but the coffee was great.  She made much better
coffee than I did.  Not only that she had a real TV. 

Somewhere in the evening I got tired and Lucy got romantic.  We did some
kissing since I was too tired to muster an effective defense.  I did 
manage to leave around midnight with my virtue still intact. 

I kicked around town for a couple of more days.  I also avoided Lucy as
best I could.  I think she realized that I wasn't interested in a 
relationship, but I still wanted to be her friend.  Most mornings I 
spoke to the black man who had run the cafe across from the marina .  
He told me some of the history of the town.  Well the more modern 
history anyway.  St. Marys was one of the few towns left from the very 
beginning of the colonization of America.  The old man's history was 
mostly post WWII.  Still it was interesting. 

According to him the town had been a big commercial fishing and
shrimping town before and during the war.  Later sport fishing found 
St. Marys and charter fishing took up a big share of the dock space.  
Small boats still ran deliveries to the outer islands nearby.  In the 
last few years it had become more a scenic tourist town.  The seeds had 
even been planted to grow a bedroom community for the ever expanding 
Jacksonville Florida area.  Twenty miles from Jacksonville it was 
ideally set to be a future growth region. 

I was interested but just in passing.  It wasn't as though I planned to
live the rest of my life in St. Marys.  I could move on in an hour, if 
I chose to do so.  I had no real ties to the town. 

Lucy's friend Becky never called.  The two of them just showed up Friday
night.  When Lucy suggested we discuss Becky's problem over dinner, I 
agreed since I hadn't eaten since breakfast. 

Becky rode in the back seat of Lucy's Japanese revenge car, while we all
tried to make small talk.  We were all saving the discussion of the 
500lb gorilla in the car for later. 

Later came after we finished the seafood combination plates at The
Marina Restaurant.  The atmosphere was very fish camp, and I liked it.  
The food was delicious and the service was excellent.  I would have 
enjoyed the meal more had I not been in suspense about Becky and her 
stalker.  I really was looking forward to the challenge. 

I was about to open the conversation when Lucy suggested we return to
her apartment for coffee.  "We won't be interrupted there," she 
suggested. 

"That's just fine with me," I agreed. 

"Oh crap," Becky said.  "See that woman by the door.  That is Sheila." 

"Can I assume that Sheila is your stalker?" 

"Yes that's her."  Sheila was a reasonably attractive if somewhat skinny
blond woman.  She wasn't short and she wasn't tall she was just skinny 
as a garden hose.  She was wearing jeans and a top that showed her bony 
chest.  She had a tattoo on her shoulder.  It was a black spider in a 
web.  I expected on closer inspection it would turn out to be a black 
widow. 

"Okay follow my lead ladies.  Let's drop the first bomb." 

It had to be subtle.  I held Becky's chair, then Lucy's as we stood to
leave.  I held Becky's hand as we walked out.  "Do not look at her," I 
whispered. 

To anyone looking at us we were just three people who had dinner out. 
To Sheila we would look like lovers.  That's how stalkers see things.  
Nothing is harmless to an obsessed person.  Everything has meaning and 
it is always sinister. That is what effects the person being stalked as 
well.  It is maddening for a sane person to enter a world of continual 
high drama. 

What we had just done was to stick a needle in Sheila's eye.  How she
reacted would be interesting.  She could do nothing and wait for a 
better time, she could shoot me in the back a few times, or she could 
crank up the heat on Becky.  I would prefer she did nothing and just 
decide it wasn't worth the effort and moved on, but that was unlikely. 

We were seated at Lucy's kitchen table when I began.  "Now you are going
to have an angry stalker on your hands.  She may or may not turn 
violent.  We need for her to be so upset that she makes a mistake.  A 
mistake is anything that you can show to the cops to get her arrested.  
A note, a phone call, or an aggressive act where there are witnesses.  
What we don't want is her to harm you physically." 

"This is already harming me physically.  I have a hard time
concentrating and I can't sleep nights.  Isn't there something you 
could do to end it all at once.  Why do we have to wait." 

"Do you suggest I kill her, that is the only thing that will stop her
instantly.   What we have to do is to hope she will do something that 
will land her in jail or at least onto a shrink's sofa." 

"I guess you are right.  I just want this over." 

It got quiet around the table.  Everyone was lost in thought.  I was
wondering why Becky.  She had to be close to forty pounds overweight.  
Her breasts were small for a woman carrying that many extra pounds.  
Her hips had most of it, but she somehow didn't seem to be too far out 
of proportion.  Her hair was thin and shapeless. 

"Tell me Becky how did Sheila get fixated on you." 

"I have no idea, I certainly didn't encourage it." 

"Okay, how did you meet her?" 

"It was a teacher's award ceremony.  I didn't win anything but I went to
the banquet anyway.  After the ceremony ended Lucy and I went to the 
lounge along with a few others.  I got a little drunk and flirty." 

"Did you flirt with Sheila?" 

"Absolutely not," she replied. 

"Sheila was the bartender in the lounge.  Everyone talked to her as well
as each other." 

"You probably said or did something that in her twisted mind convinced
her that you would be receptive." 

"I can't imagine what," Becky said. 

"Oh something like my last boyfriend was a jerk.  I so wish I could meet
someone nice.  Probably something as harmless as that." 

"I might have said something like that since my last boyfriend was worse
than a jerk." 

"Lucy said you told Sheila that you felt Lesbians were sick and were
going to hell." 

"I didn't mean that.  I said it when she hit on me the first time I was
so shocked I didn't know what I was saying." 

"Where did it happen and how long after your first meeting." 

"She ran into me at the market.  After she reminded me who she was, she
asked if I would like to go for coffee.  I was bored and it seemed 
harmless.  I had no idea she was gay." 

"So did she proposition you at that time?" 

"No, I had dinner with her another time she bumped into me at the gym. 
I have been trying to lose a few pounds.  She didn't proposition me, 
she just kissed me.  I mean she kissed me like a man."  She looked at 
the table for a long few seconds then went on. "She swears I kissed her 
back.  I was shocked and reacted poorly I guess. 

"Since the kiss she has been following you around?" 

"I can't prove it but like tonight she just shows up places I am.  She
usually says something to me.  She has even threatened me." 

"Where are you when she makes the threats?" 

"I'm in a parking lot or some other public place, but we are alone." 

"Has she ever been to your house?" 

"She showed up there last week and I freaked out.  I threatened to call
the police and she said that if I did, she would make sure I didn't 
enjoy our next encounter."  She looked down again took a deep breath 
and continued.  "Then she grabbed my breast and kissed me again." 

I looked at Lucy and she looked shocked.  She obviously didn't know all
there was to know.  "What did you do?" 

"I ran into the house and locked the door.  I was terrified." 

"That's why you were so upset?" Lucy asked. 

"Yes, That's when I called the police.  They said they couldn't do
anything without proof.  The detective said he would talk to her but I 
said please don't.  I was afraid she would hurt me." 

"At that point the cop most likely thought it was a falling out between
lovers."  Becky looked horrified.  Lucy looked a little disappointed in 
me. 

"Okay here is what is going to happen, if you want my help.  Drive into
Jacksonville to a radio shack.  Buy yourself a digital recorder with a 
telephone hookup.  Keep the batteries charged and keep it by the phone. 
 Stop at a drugstore and get a box of vinyl gloves.  If you get any 
strange mail or notes on the car put them on before you handle them.  
If she approaches you in public and anything happens that people would 
notice, get their names.  When you call the police next time, you want 
evidence." 

"What are you going to do?" Becky asked 

"I'm going to help you get the evidence.  She will make mistakes, if she
is upset.  We are going to upset her.  Stalkers have a fantasy they 
play over an over.  Then they adapt it to real life.  She obviously 
sees you as becoming a couple somewhere along the line.  She probably 
thinks this is some kind of game that she is going to win."  Becky 
looking a little bewildered but Lucy seemed to understand. 

"I am going to be her rival.  She will either transfer her aggression to
me, or she will step up her contacts with you.  Her choices are to 
either win you over, or to get me out of the way." 

"Will this work?"  Becky asked. 

"It probably will, but I have a few things to warn you about going in. 
It could turn nasty.  She might get really violent.  The other is that 
I can't be a witness to anything.  I absolutely will not testify to 
anything.  I want you both to understand that going in." 

"I don't understand," Becky said. 

"I have a couple of old warrants out on me.  Nothing serious but it
would be inconvenient, if they ran a records check on me." 

"I see," Becky said.  "I'm not sure I want to get involved if I have to
do it alone." 

"Fair enough, I assume you won't send the cops to my door?" 

"No, neither of us will do that," Lucy said giving Becky a nasty look. 

"If I do go along, what do I have to do." 

"I would just move into your house and act as your boyfriend.  Hopefully
in a few days we would have her crazy enough to start making mistakes.  
We could meet in public places like a date, but it would take much 
longer to set her on fire.  This has to be subtle.  To be subtle we 
just do it and don't make a big deal of it.  Not to mention if I move 
in with you, I can try to take care of you. 

I decided to leave and let the to women talk it over.  I wasn't sure I
had done the right thing telling her that I would never testify no 
matter what.  I wanted to be honest so she would know what was 
happening at all times.  Okay I didn't try to be totally honest. 

I was watching a two year old TV show when Lucy knocked.  "Hello again
ladies," I said standing back so they could enter my little one room 
apartment.  "So what did you decide?" 

"First what did you do to get a warrant against you." Lucy asked. 

"I wrote my ex-wife a bad check.  Our kids are grown so I figured the
alimony ended at the same time as the child support.  She raised hell 
so like and idiot I sent her a check.  Then I thought better of it and 
stopped payment.  The lawyer said that it didn't matter why I stopped 
payment, it was still a legal debt and I would need to make the check 
good.  I said like hell, so here I am." 

"Oh I sorta wished it was something like beating hell out of a man." 
Becky said with a smile. 

"No nothing like that."  I wasn't even tempted to tell her about the man
I killed before I left home.  That she didn't need to know. 

"So when do we start?" 

"How far do you live from here?" 

"Five or six miles no more." she replied. 

"Tomorrow is Saturday, I guess that is as good a time as any.  Also we
can keep an eye out for Sheila.  If she took the bait, she will be 
really curious to see if you are really dating. 

One thing though, if she shows up somewhere before I move in, do not
talk to her at all.  Close the door in  her face.  If you see her out 
somewhere, turn and walk away.  If she wants to communicate with you, 
it has to be on the phone or by note." 

"I'll try," she said. 

"Don't try do it.  Otherwise you are feeding her fantasy.  You do want
her to stop this don't you?" 

"Of course I do," she said indignantly. 

"Then do exactly as I say and it will happen." 

It was shortly after noon or Saturday when I showed up at her condo.  I
had stopped along the way to do my laundry such as it was.  A couple of 
pairs of jeans and some underwear.  I wore Tee shirts mostly but also a 
button shirt to cover them now and then.  I had bought and saved three 
button up shirts and half a dozen tee shirts.  Other than that I had 
nothing but my computer to pack. 

After I looked the place over I had her open the outside patio gate so
that I could bring the Tomos under the patio awning.  I don't think she 
liked that much but I didn't really care. 

"Well Lucy have you heard from your stalker today?" 

"No, I haven't seen or heard from her." 

"Then so far so good."  I said it just to make her feel better. Nothing
would change until Sheila was in jail.  She might decide on her own to 
give it up, but I wasn't counting on it. 

"So are you hungry?" Becky asked. 

"No thanks, I had a bite on the way over." 

"I should have mentioned this last night.  We never discussed money. 
Teachers don't make a lot of money you know." 

"Didn't you know, I work for food." I smiled.  Becky smiled back. 

The guest room is right this way," Becky said as she turned into Hannah
the Hostess. 

"I'm going to sleep on the floor of the living room," I suggested. 

"But you will be much more comfortable in the guest room." 

"Yes I probably would be, but I would also have a light on in there when
we should be in bed together.  Sweetie stalkers are a little mental, 
but not necessarily stupid." 

"I see," was her only reply.  "What would you like for dinner?" she
asked after a short pause to regroup. 

"Oh we need to go out to dinner.  Somewhere nice and public.  Somewhere
you have seen Sheila, but not where she works." 

"The waffle and Egg on highway 17 but that was after a night out with
Lucy," she informed me.  "It was late." 

"So being seen by her at the restaurant last night was a fluke?" 

"I don't think so. I though I saw her at other restaurants but was never
sure before.  She has only spoken to me at the Waffle and Egg." 

"So where else have you run into her?"  I had slipped into a
interrogation mode without realizing it. 

"The grocery store on Saturday mornings.  I'm sure I have seen her at
the school as I was leaving." 

"Well we need to go out to eat and see if she shows up, so pick a place
that isn't too fancy." 

"Eddie's Family Steakhouse," she suggested. 

"Okay that's where we will go later.  For now let me take a look
around."   I walked around her condo for about half an hour.  I sat in 
each of her rooms for a few minutes and just studied it. 

"The main thing you need is one of those motion detector light packages.
 It just screws into your outside light.  You need that in the rear 
yard.  It wouldn't do much good in the front since people might be 
walking their dogs.  If there is trouble it will most likely come from 
the rear anyway." 

"We can pick one of those up at the Home Depot in Jacksonville," I
informed her.  "It wouldn't hurt to have a video surveillance system.  
We can rig something up with a webcam I'm sure.  I'll go on line and 
research it." 

"If you want, we can drive to Jacksonville now," she suggested, 

"Let's do that.  I want that light up as soon as possible.  "Do you have
a weapon in the house?" 

"No, I'm afraid of guns." 

"Then you need a tazer or pepper stray.  You need some kind of
equalizer." 

We didn't actually go into Jacksonville.  The home depot was on a busy
road but it was still a few miles from Jacksonville.  I made a point to 
pay attention to the way she went to town.  If I ever needed anything I 
could ride the bike over in less than an hour. 

Becky found an army & navy plus gun store that sold tazers.  She bought
one and a can of pepper gas.  I felt like she was as ready as she was 
likely to get without being trained in combat techniques.  I didn't 
expect it to come to violence, but you just never knew when dealing 
with stalkers. 

After all the shopping, including a trip to the cheapest electronics
warehouse in Jacksonville, I knew because the sign said so, we headed 
back to St. Marys.  I insisted that we go to her condo before dinner.  
I wanted that light in place.  I would need a lot more time to work on 
the webcam surveillance system. 

I gave Sheila plenty of time to find us before we left for dinner.  It
was a nice restaurant and I enjoyed the meal.  Real southern style pork 
chops are hard to find.  Almost nobody can fry them as they should be 
except your own mother.  Eddie must have spent time in mom's kitchen 
because they were perfect.  So were the sweet potato fries and the 
coleslaw.  The ice tea was only so, so but it was cold and the waitress 
kept refilling the glass before it got to half empty. 

I paid the check while Becky waited by the door.  When I joined her she
said, "That's her car over there." 

I looked around the dinning room.  "I don't see her do you?" 

"No but she is here somewhere." 

"Are you sure it isn't just a car like hers?" 

"I'm sure there is a bumper sticker on the rear.  Something about global
warming." 

"You go to the ladies room, make sure she isn't in there if she is turn
around immediately and walk away." 

It took her five minutes but she came back empty handed.  "She wasn't
there." 

"What took you so long." 

"I used the bathroom since I was there already." 

Women, I thought.  I went back to looking for skinny Sheila.  I had no
more success than I had earlier.  "Well let's go home.  She has seen 
what she needed to see, I guess. 

I kissed her in the parking lot, before she slipped behind the wheel of
her car.  I went around, then opened the door.  I glanced in the back 
seat to make sure skinny Sheila hadn't decided to ambush us. 

As Becky drove by Sheila's car I saw the bumper sticker.  It read,
strike a blow at foreign oil, support global warming.  It was amusing 
but I had seen better. 

"What do you think that was all about?" Becky asked. 

"I have no idea except maybe to keep you confused.  My guess is someone
else drove her car but it is really strange.  I never knew simple 
stalkers to work together.  Do you know anyone that might be in 
partnership with Sheila?" 

"I have no idea.  I think she is pretty much a loner." 

"Well it's a curious turn of events, but let's not worry about it yet." 
I had felt better when I thought I knew who was after Becky.  This, 
maybe other person, was a concern I did not share with her. 

Becky drove us directly back to her house.  She was a careful driver but
not a slow one.  She seemed to know I didn't like being out of control 
even as little as riding in a car someone else drove. 

I questioned her off and on all evening.  She really did know almost
nothing about Sheila.  That fact pretty much assured her that the cops 
would not take her seriously.  They most likely thought she was just a 
lonely unstable young woman.  God knows I had met a few like that, when 
I was a cop.  I might have even thought so myself until the car with no 
driver showed up. 

I slept on my sleeping pad in the living room.  Even though it had
carpet and a carpet pad, the floor was no more comfortable than my own. 
 Even so I slept pretty well.  I have always been one of those people 
who can sleep anywhere. 

I awoke early on Sunday morning.  I needed to use the bathroom, and not
for a bath.  Old men suffer from all kinds of urinary tract problems.  
The only one I knew of in my case was a weak bladder.  If I drank 
anything after ten pm, I was awake in a few hours with an urgent need. 

When I returned to the pad, my mind would not shut down.  I kept going
over the car with no driver.  Like it or not the answer kept coming up 
conspiracy. What kind of conspiracy, I had no idea.  Since I couldn't 
see two sexually motivated stalkers at the same time, I had to rethink 
the motive.  If I rethought the motive, I had to be open to Sheila not 
being the person in charge of the conspiracy. 

So if it wasn't sex, or at least not just sex, what did they want from
Becky.  What did she have?  I made a mental note to ask her a lot more 
questions.  Before I got past that thought, or had time to compose the 
questions in my mind, Becky walked into the room. 

She was wearing a very pretty gown that managed to cover her more
intimate parts while giving the illusion that it did not.  Now that was 
a neat trick and I'm sure it cost a bunch to purchase that illusion.  I 
was absolutely sure she did not wear that every night.  Even though I 
was old enough to be her father, I had a strange feeling.  I wondered 
if she and Lucy would compared notes.  Since I had to live beside Lucy, 
who might easily stumble onto my secret I chose not to let her get too 
close,  I tried to avoid Lucy.  Not avoid as much as tread lightly.  I 
didn't have that necessity with Becky.  Becky was a little less 
attractive than Lucy.  Neither of them was likely to be in the running 
for the next super model.  Still both of them were young.  That in and 
of itself had a certain appeal. 

"What would you like for breakfast?" she asked. 

"Just coffee for me, but thanks for the offer." 

"It's no trouble, I will be cooking for myself are you sure?" 

"Yes I'm sure." 

"Okay in that case I'm going to take a shower and dress before I cook," 

It sounded like an excellent idea to me.  I would be a lot more
comfortable with her in something other than the illusionistic outfit. 

Even while taking a DIY crash course on how to stream a web cam, I tried
to work out just what the hell was going an with Sheila and what she 
really wanted.  I decided that I needed to know a lot more about 
Sheila.  I had no idea how to go about it on my own.  Without the 
Police department resources, I was pretty much lost.  Well not 
completely lost, I knew someone who did know how to find things on the 
net.  At least she said she was proficient at searches on the internet. 


I called Lucy on the phone to explain what I needed done.  "Since you
got me into this, it is the least you can do."  I smiled and hoped she 
could tell from my voice. 

"Oh all right but you have to ask specific things not just find out
everything.  I have no idea what everything is." 

"Neither do I, so can you find out if she has a criminal record." 

"Yes, I can find that out.  I want your credit card number.  It might
cost a few dollars and I'm not putting it on my card." 

"Okay but keep track, I use one of those prepaid things so I might need
to add some to it.  Right now it will go up to about five hundred 
dollars."  I didn't tell her that I bought the refills in hundred 
dollar increments at a different convenience store each time.  I could 
probably buy three or four of those cards a day if push came to shove.  
Any more might raise a flag with someone, in a cubicle somewhere. 

I worked on the web cam as I waited for Lucy to get me answers.  As she
finished one task I found another for her.  It was like that in any 
investigation.  One answer led to more questions.  Sometimes the last 
answer is the only one that made any sense.  It was kind of like 
working your way through a maze. 

So at the end of the day, I knew where Sheila lived, where she worked,
her last known employer and the names of her family members.  All her 
family lived out of town, so it wasn't going to be much help.  I knew 
where she did time and the charge. 

I had written down the license number of the car she drove so Lucy got
me a rundown on that as well.  Sheila was indeed the owner of the car.  
We got her driver's license number and her home address from that. 

"Lucy tomorrow I want you to call her landlord and verify her address. 
Then see if she is living with anyone.  I also want you to speak with a 
couple of her neighbors on the phone." 

"These people are not going to talk to me." 

"Sure they are, tell them you are verifying information on a job
application.  Give them the name of a fancy club in Jacksonville.  Call 
yourself by some name she won't recognize.  Look the neighbors up so 
that you know their names."  I knew that would work, I had done it at 
least a hundred times.  "If they don't answer your questions, try to 
remember what they said in refusing.  Even that can help when you know 
nothing at all." 

When dinner time arrived we stayed home.  Becky was an excellent cook,
so I didn't mind at all.  She made something she called fried mac and 
cheese.  It was delicious with the salad she made.  She made fresh 
rolls as well.  I think those came from a mix but it was a good one. 

The phone rang a couple of times with hang up calls.  I began answering
it just for the hell of it.  I answer with Becky's full name while 
informing the called that it was her residence.  The calls stopped 
after two more attempts. 

"Seems your admirer doesn't want to talk to me." 

"Do you see now how crazy that kind of thing can make someone?" 

"I understood that all along.  It's why I agreed to help."  By bedtime I
had a lot of information and Becky had a web based surveillance system. 


Becky didn't run around half dressed Sunday night as she had the night
before.  She wore flannel shorts and a tee shirt which to me was just 
as sexy as the almost see through gown.  Even so I didn't think of her 
as anything more than a young woman in trouble.  It never crossed my 
mind to take advantage of the situation.  Okay it crossed my mind or I 
wouldn't have mentioned it.  I certainly didn't act on it. 

Monday morning Becky fixed breakfast for me.  She really was a good
cook.  Since she make bacon and eggs, I had no need to ride into town 
for my breakfast by the marina. 

"So what are you going to do while I'm at work?" Becky asked over her
second cup of coffee. 

"I'm going to sit here and wait for Lucy to call.  Not much I can do
without the information she is getting for us." 

"Lucy really is a sweet girl," Becky commented.  She was studying me
closely to gauge my reaction. 

"Yes, she does seem to be," I agreed.  I was trying to show no emotion
whatsoever. 

Lucy called about ten A.M.  "Mike, I am not going to have a chance to
get all that information until later.  I will try to talk to everyone 
before I leave school today.  We should meet to discuss it." 

"Okay, why don't you stop by here on your way home?" 

"Good idea.  Becky won't mind will she?" 

"I don't see why she would.  We are trying to help her after all." 

"Good, then I'll be there around five." 

After the call I got bored quickly.  I decided to ride into town for my
marina fix.  Instead of breakfast at the park, I would do lunch there." 


The Tomos and I were well out of her neighborhood when it happened.  I
had been passed by a couple of hundred cars since I bought the Tomos.  
Some cut me a wide birth, some cut it close, but the sinister black SUV 
was the first to actually get close enough to touch me. 

The car did not belong to Sheila, at least I didn't think so.  I swerved
to avoid adding the car's paint to that already on the Tomos.  In doing 
so I ran off the road onto the shoulder.  The shoulders were very soft 
and the Tomos flipped over on me.  Litterally it landed on top of me 
still running. 

The weight of the bike was pretty oppressive on my chest.   The hot
muffler did a number on the flesh of my lower leg.  I was happy that I 
bought the long jeans.  I had debated buying shorts instead. I was most 
happy to still be alive.  However over all I was not a happy camper. 

The SUV sped away leaving me for dead, I supposed.  I had a pretty good
idea that  the incident was connected to my involvement with Becky.  It 
looked as though someone seriously wanted her alone for some reason. 

If just reinforced my thinking that it wasn't about only sex .  I wasn't
sure that it was about sex at all.  That might be the bait but the game 
might be about something else. 

Even while I was thinking that, I was assessing my damages.  I wasn't
bleeding from anything more serious than a scrape here and there.  I 
didn't have any body parts dangling so no broken bones.  The burn on my 
leg could have been much worse had I not been wearing those jeans.  The 
pain from that hot muffler had given me the strength to instantly toss 
the bike off me which also helped. 

I was laying in the grass on the side of the road when the voice asked,
"Are you alright?" 

"I think so." 

"You want me to call you an ambulance?" 

"No thanks, I think that I'll be fine.  I think what I need is a tow
truck.  Do you happen to know someone who could haul the bike to my 
house and let me ride along." 

"I have a pick up there on the road.  I'll be happy to take you and 
your bike home, if you want and if it isn't too far." 

"I really would appreciate that."  I said it but I wasn't sure that the
good Samaritan wasn't a setup.  I kept a close eye on him until he 
dropped me at the garage.  "So what do I owe you?" I asked it after the 
bike was unloaded. 

"You don't owe me anything," he replied 

"Come on I would have had to pay a tow truck.  With the price of
gasoline and your time, it wouldn't be right not to pay you something." 


"Just do a good deed for someone this week," he said climbing into his
truck.  That whole exchange made me a little nervous. 

Since Lucy was easier to reach, I called and explained it to her.  She
tried to pressure me into a trip to the emergency room, but I refused.  
I figured I was going to be sore as hell.  I knew I had survived and 
was damn lucky to have done so.  I figured I could handle the rest. 

"So would you find Becky and tell her I'm going to be at my place for a
while.  At least till I feel better and get some wheels.  Also stop by 
the drugstore and get me something for a big burn and a few scrapes.  
And a couple of different over the counter pain meds." 

I left the door open for Lucy.  I was having a hard time moving with the
burn and the scraped knees.  I was in a lot of pain, with very little 
in the way of pain killers.  I had a bottle of low dose aspirin, I took 
now and then for muscle aches.  It seemed to have no effect at all on 
the pain from the burn.  The burn was so painful that I didn't even 
feel the other pains until I tried to move. 

Lucy walked in with a big bag from the Rite Aid drugstore.  She took a
look at me in my cutoff jeans, which had been full length when I left 
Becky's house that morning. 

"What the hell happened to you?" 

"Like I told you on the phone someone ran me off the road." 

"Was it an accident?" 

"It could have been, but I don't think so.  It was broad daylight and
there were no other cars on sight.  The driver just clipped me.  He had 
to know I was there." 

"You said he, did you get a look." 

"No, it could just as easily have been a woman, but it wasn't Sheila's
car.  The car that clipped me was a big black SUV." 

"That's a nasty looking burn, don't you want to go to the hospital?" 

"No, it looks worse than it is.  In general burns hurt like hell, so did
you bring me anything for pain?" 

"As you instructed, I got Tylenol and that 12 hour sodium thing." 

"Good, please bring them both here."  She brought a glass of water and
both bottles.  I swallowed three of each.  Not something I would 
recommend to anyone else but I didn't much care if they killed me. 

I did note that it was right at 6pm.  I would try to hold off until ten
before I re dosed myself.  Lucy tried to refuse to take money for the 
drugs and ointment but I insisted.  Lucy was covering the burn with 
antibiotic creme when Becky knocked on the door which Lucy had closed. 

"Are you alright?" She asked with real concern in her voice. 

"I'm not alright, but I will survive." I replied.  I was still in pain
and the two women weren't helping at all. 

"I am so sorry," Becky said. 

"This isn't your fault."  I let her off the hook for a few seconds then
I went after her.  "I want you to tell me everything this bitch ever 
said to you.  I mean every damn word." 

I turned my attention to Lucy.  "You pay attention, I might miss
something.  You can remind me later, since you should know more than I 
do by now." 

Becky started to tell me about her first encounter with Sheila at the
bar.  Sheila had flirted with her.  Becky didn't realize it at the 
time, but in thinking back she realized that it was flirting.  She also 
realized that she had encouraged it. 

Lucy said, "I remember wondering if you knew she was gay, or if you
might be a little gay as well." 

"You what?" 

"I wondered if you might be a bit bisexual.  I mean you seemed to be
loving the attention." 

"I guess I was a little.  Not gay, I mean loving the attention, I was
just off a bad affair, remember?" 

"I remember but it sure looked to me like you were a knowing
participant." 

"Why didn't you say something before." 

"It seemed pretty harmless until now.  Take a look at Mike, this is
getting a little too real." 

"We should call the cops, they can't ignore this." 

"Sure they can," I replied.  "To them it will be just a traffic
accident.  Besides like I told you, I don't do cops." 

"So you are just going to let them get away with this?" Becky asked. 

"In a pigs ass I am.  For right now they are going to think I am though.
 Lucy you need to finish collecting information on our little friend 
Sheila." 

"What about me?" Becky asked. 

"With you it is business as usual.  What you really need to do, is to
stay with Lucy for a few days." 

"I will be okay.  I can stay home." she suggested. 

"It's up to you, but my advice is to bunk in with Lucy for a while.  If
you won't do that, then I suggest that when they show up for you, 
remember your cover story and just play along." 

"What do you mean they?" 

"It wasn't Sheila who ran me off the road.  It wasn't sheila who drove
her Honda to the restaurant the other night.  So yes I mean they." 

"What the hell is going on?" she asked. 

"I have just been at this a couple of days.  Give me a chance and I just
might find out." 

Becky changed her mind about bunking in with Lucy.  Since they needed to
pick up food, as well as Lucy and my things I added more to the list.  
I gave Lucy a detailed list of things I needed, along with four one 
hundred dollar bills. 

"I can't let you keep spending your money trying to keep me safe," Becky
said. 

"I'm going to give Sheila and her friends the bill, don't worry." I
replied seriously. 

I had two different pain killers and a couple of allergy tabs in me, so
sleep was within reach.  Actually I fell asleep before Lucy and Becky 
returned.  Since I gave Lucy my key, she was able to look in and leave 
my packages on the floor.  I was asleep on the sofa.  The sofa was way 
to short, but I didn't wake up until the morning. 

Once I did wake up, I couldn't get the pain killers down fast enough. 
That burn was the only pain I felt.  It overwhelmed any other pains.  I 
tried to keep a cold wet cloth on it while I waited for Lucy or Becky 
to at least call. 

"Hey are you okay?" the voice on the phone was Lucy's. 

"Yeah, just peachy."  I replied. 

"Are you awake?" 

"A damn site more than I want to be." 

"How is the burn and the scrapes?" 

"The scrapes seems to be doing okay, the burn hurts like hell." 

"So are you ready to hear what I have learned so far." 

"Sure, go for it." 

"You already know I got Sheila's phone number then back traced it to her
address.  Today I called her neighbors like you said.  I told them that 
I was with a Myrtle Beach resort." 

"Wonderful, so what did you learn?" 

"She lives with another woman." 

"Now there is a shock." I suggested. 

"Yes it is, I suppose." 

"Did you get the other woman's name?" 

"Yes and I ran her as well.  She has a black Ford Explorer." 

"Well hello lady, we are going to do a little dance," I said with a
smile in my voice. 

"She and Sheila have a lot of parties it seems.  They have one almost
every weekend." 

"So anything significant in that?" 

"The guest come in Saturday afternoon late and don't leave until
Sunday." 

"So they don't drive drunk.  That is admirable." 

"Yes it is." she replied sarcastically.  "Most of the guests are men. 
Only a few are women." 

"Well, we know Sheila isn't the entertainment don't we?" 

"I would think not.  First of all the cars are from all over.  Sheila
just isn't that attractive." 

"No offense, but neither is Becky.  I just don't get the connection
still.  But they are up to something which they want Becky involved in. 
 Sheila is trying to lure her into it.  When the straight up sex thing 
didn't work, she began stalking her.  She is trying to scare her." 

"So you think the sex thing is a smoke screen?" 

"No, I think that is real, but only a part of picture.  Find out what
you can about the roommate.  I would be willing to bet the roommate has 
the money." 

"Well Sheila has a record.  Wanna' know what for?" 

"Of course," I admitted. 

"Assault and battery, she did six months for beating up a man." 

I couldn't help but laugh. "Who was the man?" 

"He was the husband of a friend.  I think that he was probably the
husband of a girlfriend." 

"That sounds reasonable.  You keep tracking her and her roommate." 

"What are you going to do?" 

"Heal," I replied. 

"Good plan, what do you want for dinner tonight." 

"Surprise me," I suggested. 

I spent the day on the phone,  First I was trying to find someone to fix
the Tomos.  I called half a dozen guys who sold scooters in 
Jacksonville.  Everyone who was willing to work on it told me it would 
be cheaper to buy a scooter instead.  Nobody really wanted to fix the 
two week old moped. 

I called around to the three local garages.  I found one who would come
get the Tomos and try to repair it.  He said he would give me an 
estimate before he went to work on it.  I agreed to call him when I 
felt better. 

I called up the streaming web cam from Becky's place on my computer
while I did other research on the net.  I researched scooter and 
mopeds.  If the Tomos was going to so much trouble to repair, I thought 
I might want to look at something else. 

It was while I was on a motorized bicycle forum that I learned in
Georgia a driver's license was required to operate a Moped.   It was 
not a good sign.  I had bought the Tomos to avoid the driver's license 
thing all together.  It appeared that the only motorized vehicle which 
universally did not require a drivers license was an electric bicycle.  
So I began to research those while from time to time I scanned Becky's 
web cam.  Nothing happened on the web cam but I learned a lot on the 
forums. 

There was an old man who experimented with Ebikes.  He had tried about
everything to speed one up.  The easiest thing to do was to buy an 
ebike from Wal-mart.  Then buy a bigger motor from an online E bike 
parts company.  One could buy a motor with double the power of the 
stock motor for less than hundred dollars.  It would bolt right up to 
the bike once the stock motor was removed.  The next step to souping up 
the bike was to toss the battery pack and use one with more volts.  He 
assured everyone that he had done it with no significant danger to the 
bike but almost double the performance.  The two improvements would 
almost double the 12 mph speed and the range would be at least as good 
as that promised but never delivered by the bike manufacturer. 

It sounded like a doable project.  I decided not to bother with the
local shop after all.  I had pretty much paid a grand to get a few 
hundred miles, but it got me off the grid for a while.  I had been damn 
lucky that no cop had stopped me once I got to Georgia. 

After my research projects were finished, I went to work on one of the
purchases Lucy had made for me.  She had bought me a Mossburg pump 
shotgun.  It wasn't the cop model but a cheap sportsman version.  
Actually there was probably no difference except for the length of the 
barrel. 

I used the tube cutter she also bought for me to shorten the barrel to
18.5 inches.  Just enough to be legal.  I used a straightened coat 
hanger down the barrel to be sure before I cut the barrel. 

I loaded the shotgun with #4 duck shot before I set it carefully in the
corner.  With that done, I felt a lot better.  I had it all done before 
Lucy got home from work. 

"Becky went by her house for clothes.  She is going to be here soon." 

"You really shouldn't let her go near her place alone." 

I set the computer for her streaming web site.  I got a view of her in
bra and panties changing clothes in a corner reflection in the window.  
She dressed before she left.  She left the house safely so I felt some 
better.  Since it was early in the afternoon, she would probably be 
okay.  I could go back to her house in a day or so.  At that point I 
planned to go on the offensive. 

When I awoke the next morning, I tried to think what needed to be done. 
Lucy should be doing a background check on Andrea Lewis, the roommate.  
I had an idea about what the next big step would be, it was the small 
steps that needed to be planned first.  I just couldn't make my mind 
work that morning.  It was probably the result of all the pills.  Even 
though they weren't prescription I was taking them at dangerous levels. 
 It had only been two days since the SUV decided to swap paint with my 
bike.  I figured I would be much better by the next day.  That is if 
the three day rule held true for accidents as well as illnesses. 

I hung around the apartment eating everything in sight until Lucy
called.  "Andrea Lewis did time at the same prison as Sheila."  Lucy 
sounded proud of herself and she had every right to be.  It was a 
pivotal piece of information. 

"Why the  hell would two prison buddies want to share Becky?" 

"I have no idea Lucy replied."  I didn't explain that I hadn't really
asked her, but was thinking out loud. 

"I suppose they could be into sharing, but my money is on something more
involved." 

"How so," Lucy asked. 

"They are going through a lot of trouble just to have a threesome with
Becky.   That was where my original plan came in.  I was supposed to 
make it obvious that Becky was more trouble than she was worth.  When 
Andrea ran me off the road, it became obvious that Becky was worth 
killing for.  I could easily have died out there.  I just can't figure 
out what makes her worth all this." 

"What the hell is going on here?" Lucy asked again. 

"Find out all you can about Andrea Lewis.  She is probably the key." 
After I hung up, I began wondering if the bad gals knew where I lived.  
It would have made sense to come for me immediately after the attempt 
on my life.  Waiting made no sense at all, unless they didn't know 
where I went, or they expected me to back off if I lived. 

They could be following Becky.  If so they would know pretty soon where
I was holed up. If nothing happened in the next couple of days, I would 
be on offense.  It should be interesting, if not fun. 

When Lucy and Becky arrived home that night, it was obvious that they
were spending too much time together.  They were getting snippy.  It 
didn't slop over to me, so I wasn't all that concerned. 

"I think we have about all the information I can find," Lucy informed me
over a plate of pasta.  I had managed to make it down to her place with 
only minor pain.  I was indeed on the mend. 

Lucy and Becky hardly spoke during dinner.  It wasn't a matter of being
angry.  I think it was more a case of just having talked themselves 
out.  I wasn't in much of a mood to talk myself, so there were long 
periods of silence. 

I didn't stay long after dinner.  I was tired and wanted to lay down.  I
slipped into a light sleep shortly after returning to my place.  I woke 
up to light streaming through the window by my only door.  I had 
twisted the motion detector flood light so that it shined in my window 
instead of onto the steps.  It was the only security system I had. 

I moved to a corner of the room with the shotgun handy but not in my
hands.  The knock on the door was timid.  "Yes." I said. 

"It's me Becky.  I need to talk to you." 

I opened the door for her.  She came in and sat on the sofa before she
spoke.  "What's going to happen to us?"  She really did seem upset. 

I sat down beside her then said, "We are going to figure this out and
then take care of it." 

"How are we going to do that?" she asked. 

"You have to have patience and trust me.  I think I can figure this out,
if everyone helps." 

"You mean if Lucy helps.  I haven't been much help at all." 

"Oh you will be trust me.  There is no way we can end this without your
help." 

She softened then.  The change was noticeable and a little concerning. 
"Can I stay here tonight.  I am tired of "Lucy's couch." 

"I don't have a bed or couch for you," I said with a smile. 

"But I have a mat like yours in the trunk of my car.  I can unroll it
beside you.  I honestly would feel better." 

"I don't know.  What would Lucy say?  I mean we need her help." 

"When I asked if anything was going on between you two, she said. 'of
course not, he is old enough to be my father.'  That is hardly the 
sound of a woman who would object to you having a friend sleep over."  
I couldn't have agreed more. 

I was a little surprised by Becky's body.  The fancy gown she had worn
that first night managed to hide her small tummy and even make her 
breasts look larger.  In truth she had small breasts and a slightly 
pronounced tummy.  Her butt was a bit soft and droopy.  She was better 
looking than all that sounds.  In her case the whole was better than 
the sum of her parts. 

While the women went off to work that next morning, I tried to do more
and more things for myself.  I tried walking around the block.  The 
biggest problem  was the burn rubbed against my long pants, so I had to 
wear the cut off jeans.  I had made those from the ones I wore during 
the accident.  Lucy had tossed them into her washer, when she did her 
wash.  They had one layer less dirt when they were returned to me the 
night before. 

I managed to fix lunch for myself.  Becky had done my shopping while on
her way home from school.  I had been eating most of my meals with 
Lucy.  I had not really turned the small stove on all week.  I made 
Lucy's fried mac and cheese with one of those Kraft box things, for 
lunch.  It wasn't too bad but a heck of a mess to clean the pan 
afterward. 

The day passed slowly but it did pass.  Friday was a repeat of Thursday
except I walked father and with much less pain.  It was slow going but 
I was getting there.  During both days I had worn a pair of hiking 
boots that Lucy bought at the same store where she had bought the 
Mossburg. 

Becky and I slept late on Saturday.  Even though nothing was happening
under the sheet, it made sleeping much easier for us both.  Something 
about the closeness of another human being made sleep seem safer.  
Becky drove Lucy and me to breakfast an hour later.  It was nice to 
have breakfast with the two of them, even if they did hardly speak to 
one another. 

Since Becky promised me that there was no jealousy, I figured they were
just tired of each other.  Saturday afternoon around five Becky dropped 
me a block from Sheila and her friend's house.  I was armed with a good 
pair of binoculars courtesy of Lucy's shopping trip.  Also from that 
trip a couple of cheap but large steak knives.  I had six in all. but I 
only brought two.  I was no knife expert, so I figured if two weren't 
enough all six wouldn't be either.  I made scabbards from folded 
cardboard and scotch tape, then slid them down inside my boots. 

I walked down a small creek that led behind the houses.  I got a really
good look around.  I found a good spot less than thirty yards from the 
back door of the target house.  I didn't really care if they saw me 
since a war with them was inevitable.  They really should have killed 
me.  I had a feeling that it was not from lack of trying.  Why they 
didn't try again, I had no idea.  All I knew was that they should have. 


When I started watching the house, there were two cars in the back yard.
 It took an hour before I made the first cell phone call to Lucy.  I 
gave her the first of the license plate numbers.  She was waiting at 
home to run background checks on the owners of the cars.  With a little 
luck I would know who and what the visitors were soon after their 
arrival. 

I lost track of the number of cars but the yard was full by 9pm.  Lucy
stopped calling back after a while and just saved the information.  
Before she stopped reporting, she had logged in the mayor of a city a 
hundred miles away and several community leaders from surrounding 
towns.  There were even a couple of clergy with rather shaky 
credentials. 

She would have to wait until later to run the complete search patterns
for more details.  Those results were from google type searches only.  
I waited and kept watch but I couldn't get a clue as to what was going 
on inside the house.  It had to be at least one of the ten commandments 
being shattered for sure, which ones I didn't know.  The most harmless 
thing would be a high stakes poker game.  If that were the extent of 
it, then I had very little leverage.  Something just told me that it 
was more.  What could Becky do for a bootleg casino operation?  The 
answer was simple nothing.  The answer had to be that Sheila had 
something in mind for Becky that had nothing to do with gambling. 

I expected that the deep background checks of the people in attendance
would tell the tale.  I sat out in the cool night air until midnight, 
then walked quietly out to the road where Lucy picked me up. 

"So, do you have any ideas?" Lucy asked. 

"Nothing at all comes to mind.  They are a mixed bag of customers for
sure,  I just have no idea what they are buying." 

"It has to be something they can't get at home.  Some of those guys
drove a long way." 

"Or something better purchased a long way from home." 

"Drugs?" she asked. 

"I don't think the girls are running an opium den.  I also can't see it
as a high class crack house." I replied. 

"Well what's the next move?" 

"We hope something shows up in the background checks you are going to do
tomorrow." 

We sat in silence a few minutes then she asked, "Are you screwing
Becky?" 

Even though it took me by surprise, I answered right away.  "No, she is
sleeping on the floor with me, but nothing like that is going on." 

"Don't give me semantics are you having any kind of sexual contract with
her." 

"I have kissed her a couple of times, just like I have kissed you. 
Nothing else is going on." 

"Okay, that's what she said as well." 

"So why are you asking?" 

"Just curious," was her reply.  She waited until we pulled into the
driveway before speaking again.  "Becky fell asleep in my bed.  She 
isn't really the patient type." 

"I see,"  I didn't really but it sounded good. 

"I guess, I'll have to move in with you for the night." 

"That means sleeping on the floor." 

"I can handle it.  I have done worse." 

"Okay, then come on upstairs." 

Women who in the hell can figure them out.  Sunday morning the two of
them were back to being thick as thieves.  They shared strange smiles 
when they thought I wasn't looking.  I had no idea what to do so I did 
nothing. 

"So what's today's plan?" Lucy asked. 

"You are going to start the background checks on our visitors.  Becky
and I are going to go shopping.  Anything you want while we are out?" 

"It's Sunday in St. Marys, nothing is open." 

"Yes I know, but it's business as usual in Jacksonville."  I said that
as I guided Becky out of the door.  What I really wanted was a chance 
to talk to Becky alone.  I wanted to try again to figure out what the 
two female thugs wanted from her. 

"So Becky," I began once we were in the car.  "What is it exactly that
you do at the school." 

"I teach American History at the middle school." 

"Is that all?"  I asked it because I still didn't know what the hell it
had to do with anything. 

"Well, I also mentor at risk kids.  I have four that come in last period
for special help." 

"What is that about?" 

"Kids that are at risk of dropping out of school." 

"So what they are 16 years old?" 

"No we have determined that if they get behind in the 5th grade, they
lose interest in education.  We are trying to engage them at an early 
age." 

"Why are the kids at risk?"  Something about her mentoring was causing
flags to wave inside my head. 

"Usually it is some kind of problem at home.  None of them are low IQ
kids just unmotivated." 

"Are they also at high risk to run away from home?" 

"Why yes, it goes along with their emotional problems." 

Things were a little less foggy.  I had a feeling that something
profoundly evil was going on at Sheila's house.  I had felt even before 
my talk with Becky. 

We did our shopping in Jacksonville, then went back to St. Marys.  Lucy
was waiting for us with lots of information.  She could hardly contain 
herself. 

"I have lots more things to check but so far I found that two of the
visitors are registered sex offenders."  She looked at me for a minute 
then said, "Why don't you look surprised." 

"Well  honey drugs, booze, and gambling made no sense so there wasn't a
lot left. 

"So what is going on, prostitution?" 

"At the very least.  I have a fear that it is even more sinister than
that." 

"Dear God, not kiddie porn?" she asked. 

"Yeah, I'm thinking that and maybe worse even.  I'm told one can get
kiddie porn on the net.  There has to be more to bring these guys this 
far." 

"Please tell me you aren't thinking they are doing things with kids in
that house?" 

"I don't know.  We will have to do more checking." 

"Then what are you going to do?" Lucy asked. 

"If I can refrain from killing them myself, I'm going to see them in
jail." 

"How? you can't go to the police," Becky said. 

"I'll take care of it."  I knew exactly how to take care of it.  I just
didn't tell her. 

"Lucy dropped me at the creek I had walked in on Saturday night.  She
left me there on her way to school.  It wasn't dark but not many people 
were stirring about that early in the morning. 

I walked down the creek to the spot where I had sat previously.  I made
myself as comfortable as possible.  I watched the back of the house and 
waited for the two women to leave.  It didn't happen till nearly lunch. 
I saw them both get into the black SUV and then drive away. 

I could have used a lookout but since I didn't have one, I concentrated
on the basement.  All of the activity Saturday night seemed to have 
centered around the basement.  The lights were still on in the basement 
when I left, so I was pretty sure that it was a good place to start. 

Breaking into a basement is really easy, if there is no alarm system. 
Sheila and Andrea did not have an alarm.  It couldn't have been easier 
unless they had left the door open.  It was so easy that I thought 
maybe it was a trap.  Trap or not, it had to be done.  I crawled in 
through an unlocked bathroom window. 

I found six cubicles with just a small cot type bed in each,  Twenty odd
people and six beds equaled people turning tricks.  It could be the 
owners and a few friends, I thought.  I just couldn't see people 
driving a couple of hundred miles and staying all night just to get 
laid by a pro.  There had to be more.  In a locked room, with a piss 
poor house type lock, I found the cameras.  There was one high end 
video camera and a few low end digital cameras. 

The still cameras were much lower in price and quality than the
Panasonic, almost top of the line, camera I had bought the day before 
in Jacksonville.  It was their best Panasonic camera, short of the 
Digital Single Lens Reflex that Panasonic had recently brought out.  
The one I had did a fine job on the pictures I shot of the basement. 

I had been inside almost long enough for the girls to have finished
lunch, so I decided to leave before they came home.   I expected that I 
had the pictures which  I would need for phase two anyway.  I did take 
time to remove the hard drive from their downstairs computer.  Hell it 
had  been easy enough for a 12 year old to remove. 

I went out as I had come in through the window in the basement bathroom.
 It had been unlocked when I came in so I left it unlocked on my way 
out.  Except for the hard drive I had taken nothing. Unless you were to 
count the two dozen or so photographs I made.  I felt that I knew the 
use of everything there except the stage.  It was only slightly higher 
than the milk crates it rested upon above the concrete floor. 

I  hoped that the hard drive would tell Lucy something.  I knew it would
never tell me anything.  I had no computer in which to fit it.  Whether 
it did or not, I had it in my pocket as I walked to the pickup point.  
During the walk out I also wondered if the girls would call the cops.  
I doubted it since whatever they were doing was dead wrong.  I was 
pretty sure that a good vacuuming of the carpets down there would pick 
up traces of cocaine or some such thing. 

I used my prepaid cell phone to call the only taxi in St. Marys.  By the
time he arrived I was in the parking lot behind a church at least a 
mile from the target house.  I had him drop me at the park beside the 
marina.  From there it was a little over a mile to the garage 
apartment. 

When the girls got back from work, I got the full briefing from Lucy. 
She had completed the background checks and found a couple of more sex 
offenders.  By that time everyone had a pretty good idea what was going 
on in Sheila's basement. 

"So which one has the most to lose?" I asked Lucy. 

"I expect it would be the preacher.  He has a wife and two kids not to
mention a reasonably affluent congregation." she answered. 

"Then we need to pay him a visit.  Can either of you get off one day
this week." 

"Not me," Lucy replied.  She didn't elaborate and I didn't ask. 

"I guess I can call in sick one day.  I have a huge number of sick
days." 

"Well pick a day and we will drive over to see the Reverend." 

"Okay tomorrow will do.  Can I go home yet.  I'm tired of living out of
a paper bag." 

"It might take a while longer.  I'm sorry but I want you where I can
watch you." 

"Well you can watch me at home." 

I knew she was right.  If I was healed enough to be a cat burglar, then
I was healed enough to watch her at her house.  "Okay but load the 
shotgun into the trunk of your car.  I refuse to leave home without 
it."  I turned my attention to Lucy.  "You wanna'' come with us.  There 
is a chance they know where I live.  If we aren't here, they might pay 
you a visit." 

"Do you really think so?" she asked. 

"I don't know, but it is possible." 

"Then I will pack a bag and follow you." 

"Good," Becky commented.  She appeared to mean it. 

It was not a short drive to the town just outside Charlotte NC, but the
time passed pretty quickly.  Becky actually was a very intelligent and 
outgoing woman.  It was obvious from our conversation that she loved 
children.  If she was to be believed, she could establish rapport with 
almost any child within minutes. 

"For some reason kids just seem to trust me.  They seem to know that I
have their best interest at heart," she said. 

"Maybe that's what our ladies need.  They would sure as hell scare the
B'jesus out of anyone."  I said it with a smile, but I had a feeling 
that there might be something like it in the plan for Becky. 

When we pulled into the church parking lot, I was happy to see the fancy
German touring car in the pastor's space.  It would be much easier to 
break him in the church than it would be in his home. 

Becky and I went through an interrogation by the church secretary before
we were allowed to speak with the pastor.  "Reverend Sims," I said 
taking his hand.  The handshake was for the benefit of the church 
secretary. 

"Yes Mr. Abrams what can I do for you?"  It was obvious that the
secretary had filled  him in enough so that he had my name. 

"Actually it's more what I can do for you."  I said that as I tossed the
stack of pictures onto his desk.  They were mostly of the empty 
basement but also had a few from the hard drive of Andrea and Sheila's 
computer.  Lucy had recovered some things but was still working on it.  
The ones I had were of men in mask on stage with what could have been a 
minor.  I expected more as Lucy dug farther into the drive.  Also I 
hoped to have more from the preacher in a matter of minutes. 

"Where did you get these?" he asked. 

"I am a reporter with the Jacksonville Florida Times, I just did what I
do."  As Lucy had predicted I could see the sense of loss come over his 
demeanor.  He actually seemed to shrink a couple of inches.  "I'm here 
to make you a one time offer. Listen carefully because when I leave you 
will either be the source I protect or the pervert I throw to the 
wolves." 

I explained that someone would roll on the two women.  The person who
did got his name deleted from the guest list.  If not the Reverend 
Sims, then it would be someone else.  He was the first to be offered 
the deal. 

"What is it you want from me?" 

"I want you to tell me all you know, and all you suspect about Andrea
and Sheila.  I expect it to all be true.  I am a great interviewer.  I 
will know if you lie and if you do, I leave and you lose your source 
status.  So start with how you heard of them."  I wanted him to begin 
slow. 

"I met Sheila on line.  In an internet chat room.  It was one of those
adult things.  We sort of shared an interest you might say." 

"How long did it take before she invited you to her house."  I let the
shared interest thing slide for a while at least. 

"I put her on the IM so that we could chat outside the site.  After a
couple of weeks she suggested that I come see her." 

"Did you know what to expect when you went there?"  It was my first test
as to whether he would lie to me or not. 

"I knew some things but not all.  I knew it was a kind of party and that
there would be a stage show.  I didn't know the details. 

"So what was the admission price?" I asked. 

"Three hundred and fifty dollars.  It wasn't exorbitant so I paid cash
at the door when I got there.  I thought I was being so careful."  He 
didn't laugh but he saw the irony, if not the humor in it. 

"So I assume you had a couple of drinks?" 

"Yes the drinking began early and went on late into the night.  I'm not
a drinker but I did have a couple while I was there.  I paid extra for 
them.  I am pretty sure there were drugs for sale as well." 

"So what happened when the show started.  We sat in folding chairs and
watched the girls up on that stage in your picture.  It was pretty much 
typical things you could see in a porn film.  Some of the audience 
members got up on stage.  I can see why they had masks on now.  I knew 
she sold DVDs of the shows it never occurred to me that she might be 
saving them." 

"Didn't it occur to you that she might blackmail you?" 

"Not really, she didn't really seem like a criminal."  I was about to
say something but I let it slide. 

"So when did the younger girls start?" 

"It wasn't too long.  The younger ones were the draw."  The prick
actually smiled at the memory.  "They took their clothes off it was 
very exciting." 

"How old would you guess they were?" 

"She had them all made up and dressed up but I would think one was a
young teen doing it for money.  Then there was the child who was barely 
into puberty.  She was the star.  The two of them performed.  You have 
the images so you know." 

I didn't want him to know that I didn't really have the images so I
changed the subject.  "Did you have sex with either of them?" 

"No there were a few teenaged hookers there.  I expect those were older
teens who were doing a pretty good business." 

"How about the younger girls?  Could you have had sex with them?" 

"There was a price list for the young ones but it was pretty steep so I
didn't have sex with them.  I could explain three or four hundred 
dollars for a weekend retreat to my wife, but not a thousand dollars." 

"So what would you get for that kind of money?" 

"Not much," he replied. 

On the drive home Becky wanted to talk but I begged off.  I needed to
think.  I ran it over in my mind several times and it kept coming up 
trouble for me anyway I looked at it. 

I had intentionally left out any warning for the preacher not to warn
the girls.  I didn't care if he told them a reporter was asking 
questions.  Sheila might believe I was a reporter but I had a feeling 
anyone cold enough to run a bike off the road would see the worst in 
everyone.  I mulled over all the facts and just couldn't come up with 
any scenario that had me coming out a winner.  In the end I just gave 
up and drifted off to sleep.  One good thing about sleeping on the 
floor was that it taught me to sleep almost anywhere.  Sleeping in the 
car was a piece of cake. 

"Mike, we are  home," Becky said not so gently. 

"Ah how long did I sleep?" 

"A couple of hours.  I let you sleep since you have been looking tired
the last few days." 

"I haven't slept well since the accident.  I bit of post traumatic
stress I suppose." 

Lucy met us at the door of Becky's house. The two of them really were
good friends.  Lucy had the key to Becky's house and I assume Becky had 
the key to her apartment.  "Mike there is a message on the machine.  It 
was on there when I got here." 

"Becky tell your friend I want my hard drive back.  I want it right now
and before he copies it.  You tell him he has no idea who he is messin' 
with.  Somebody better call me tonight." 

"She sounds pissed," I said smiling. I had rattled her cage.  Obvious
she had tried to use her computer for the first time since the break 
in. 

"Let's have dinner and talk this over." I suggested.  "How about we get
pizza?" 

We were sitting around munching on pizza and drinking diet cola when the
subject came up again.  "So what are we going to do?" Lucy asked. 

"Why hell, I am going to blackmail them." 

"Why are you going to do that?" Becky asked. 

"Well someone owes me for the bike and for the pain and suffering. 
Don't worry it won't sound like blackmail." 

"I don't get it," Becky admitted. 

"If we don't pretend to be as crooked as they are, they will put it in
the wind.  Which wouldn't be an all bad thing.  You wanted me to make 
them stop stalking you.  Well that would do it.  If they are still here 
this weekend, they are going to have their little party as usual.  If 
they do that, they are going to have a couple of unexpected drop ins." 

"I don't get it."  Lucy said, 

"I hope they don't either." 

"Did you check the rest of the hard drive." 

"No, but I copied almost all the files to a dozen dvds.  There were some
big files on there." 

"Then lets give them the hard drive back.  It needs to be in her
computer."  I reached for the land line phone.  I dialed the number 
Sheila left on the message. 

"Good evening who am I speaking with?" I asked. 

"Who the hell am I speaking with?" 

"Why love, I'm the guy you tried to kill." 

"If I had been trying to kill you, you would be dead." 

"Not a good way to open negotiations, but it is reassuring to know
homicide was not your intent." 

"I didn't say I might not want to kill you now, just that I didn't when
I sent you the message." 

"So I assume you want to pay the damages out of pocket rather than go
the insurance route." 

"Are you out of your mind?" 

"Seems to be a lot of people questioning that.  But I think we are
discussing my damage claim." 

"No, we are discussing my hard drive." 

"It's the same discussion.  You pay for your carelessness and I might
find a hard drive laying about my place." 

"Have you copied it?" 

"Haven't had a chance but I have checked out some of the files. 
Interesting video but your technique leaves a bit to be desired.  I 
could give you some lighting tips if you like." 

"What I would like right now is to kill you." 

"If you do that, the dead man switch kicks in.  The hard drive goes to
the FBI.  It won't get you convicted by itself, but it will give the 
feds a place to start looking." 

"Then it's blackmail?" 

"Of course not that's illegal.  It is you buying an insurance policy. 
One pays retroactively for your stupidity." 

"How much?" 

"I think Ten grand in cash should pay the damages.  You should get that
back in one weekend from what I have seen." 

"I'm going to have to think about it." 

"That's up to you.  I will be at the marina park tomorrow about 10AM. 
It might be a good time to sign you up for that policy." 

"How do I know this is the end of it?" 

"The same as me, we don't know but we do know that we are at stalemate
for now." 

"If you come back for more, I will kill you and your girl friend." 

"If I ever see you or your roommate within 50ft of either of them, your
threat will be a moot point." 

"Are you threatening me." 

"Did it sound like a threat.  I do hope not.  It was a simple statement.
I will take out an order of protection."  She knew what the threat was 
I didn't need to spell it out.  She had figured out that I would fight 
back.  She might not know what I was, but she knew I was not a school 
teacher. 

Even though Becky and I had picked up the parts for my Tomos, I hadn't
taken the time to make the needed repairs.  So I sent the two of them 
off in Becky's car while I drove Lucy's car to the marina park.  I 
chose it and the time because I knew there would be people in the park. 
 There would be an old man or two for sure, and probably a young mother 
reading a book. 

When I arrive at the park, there were a few unexpected retired ladies as
well as the usual park visitors.  Since they all wore pink hats, I 
figured they were some kind of organized group.  That was good for me. 
The more normal witnesses the better.  They would either see nothing or 
someone would see it all.  It just depended on what the women brought 
with them to the park. 

I was still working on the 'breakfast on a bun' from burger burger, when
I spotted her walking toward me.  It was possible that she carried a 
weapon in her purse, but that was about the only place she could have 
carried one. 

Sheila was dressed in a spandex bike rider's outfit.  I took a quick
look but didn't see a bicycle.  I supposed that some people liked to 
cast a healthy athletic appearance.  She was skinny enough to have been 
a serious bike rider.  I removed the cell phone from my pocket and made 
a fake phone call.  I put the phone down just as she arrived.  I did 
allow her to hear the last couple of words.  "You need to hurry." 

"What was that all about?" she asked. 

"I just called the cops.  The park should be flooded with them in a few
minutes." 

"Why would you do that?" 

"To keep you from getting any ideas about another hit and run." 

"They are going to see everything." 

"If you keep talking and not acting, yeah they most likely will."  I
pulled the clear plastic bag with the hard drive from the large pocket 
of my new shorts.  "Okay I showed you mine?" 

She handed me an envelope with a stack of bills inside. "Here you go, I
said handing her the baggie." 

"How do I know this is the right one?" 

"The same way I know the money is all here and not marked.  We have to
go on faith." 

"I will kill you, if it isn't." 

"If you want to play it that way just give me the hard drive back and
I'll take it to the cops.  It is you that has the problem, not me.  If 
I didn't want to deal, I could have done that and walked away.  I took 
the drive for the bread to fix my bike and pay the doctor." 

"And with a few bucks left over," she suggested. 

"Screwing the insurance company is the acceptable way to do business in
this country, dear.  Surely you know that."  She just turned and walked 
away.  If Andrea was watching, and I'm sure that she was, she might 
have been expecting a different outcome.  I expect that when they got 
home, they might compare notes and wonder.  They would probably figure 
that, the cops are on the way, was just a bluff.  It was a bluff and I 
counted on them figuring out that it was. 

After an hour of looking at the sport fishing boats go out, I drove
Lucy's car back to my apartment.  I spent the rest of the day working 
on the Tomos.  I worked with the bike in the open doorway of the garage 
area.  Just inside of the building sat the loaded Mossburg shotgun.  I 
fully expected that things would be calm for the moment, but one never 
quite knew with women. 

Becky arrived with Lucy in tow.  The decision was made for us all to
caravan back to Becky's house.  Since the bike was working and I wanted 
to test it, I agreed.  It would be nice to have one of them in front of 
me, and one behind.  If there was another accident, then someone I knew 
would be around to help out. 

There was no accident.  As a matter of fact the rest of the week passed
with me watching the approaches to the house on the web cams, or doing 
more work on the bike and trailer.  It was a pretty uneventful three 
days to be truthful. 

On Friday night we went out to dinner.  We were celebrating the nearing
end of our problems.  None of us had seen or heard from the two women, 
so it was possible that they had left St. Marys.  That would be an 
acceptable ending for me.  I think Lucy and Becky expected something 
more dramatic, but I didn't expect it to happen.  Most things will just 
end with nothing at all to mark their passing. At the very most it 
might end with just a fizzle, not a bang. 

I had not let the two women in on my plan.  I had been working on parts
of it all week in secret.  Before our celebration dinner on Friday 
night, I had made most of the arrangements.  To make the 'Kiss Off' as 
I had begun to think of it, work I had to plan carefully.  I needed to 
make a stop on the way home from dinner to start the operation.  Lucy 
dropped me at the creek yet again.  I walked to a spot behind Sheila 
and Andrea's house.  I watched the dark basement for a short time then 
I put on drug store vinyl gloves.  I slipped up to the house then 
removed a fake pipe bomb which I had constructed while the girls were 
at work. 

I was absolutely certain that there was not one bit of evidence on the
fake bomb.  I bought the pipe nipple and end caps along with several 
other bits of plumbing supplies from home depot during one of the 
shopping trips to Jacksonville.  All other purchases wound up in a 
dumpster. 

When I got home from the depot, I put on the gloves before cleaning the
pipe with gun solvent.  After it air dried, I cut a number four shotgun 
shell in half and dumped everything into the pipe.  After the open 
shotgun shell was inside, I packed it with sand from the craft store.  
When the fake pipe bomb was complete, I dropped it into a larger 
baggie.  I thought, any self respecting police dog should be able to 
find that. 

After the fake bomb was planted I replaced the baggie in my pocket, then
slipped back into the woods.  I had left my calling card but no one 
would ever know who the card belonged to.  At least that was the plan. 

The girls swung by the creek again and found me waiting.  I had been
waiting in the dark woods about five minutes. 

"Alright Mike what is the plan.  I am dying to know." Lucy asked. 

"Okay if the cars show up tomorrow night, there will be a bomb tip to
the local cops and the FBI." 

"The cops rush in to save them, but instead catch them in the act," Lucy
said with a laugh.  "I truly love it." 

"Well everything has to work just right for them to get caught in the
act  At the very least the cops will have a very good excuse to look 
around.  I plan to give them a heads up, if they are smart enough to 
understand it.  I want to be subtle so that I don't need to testify.  I 
want them to find everything on their own." 

"So the cops catch them, then what?" Becky asked. 

"With a little luck they will plead out and everyone walks away a
winner.  Well not quite everyone.  Lots of reputations are gonna get 
ruined and some folks will likely do a little time.  All things 
considered it should be over for you." 

"Is there a chance they could catch us?" 

"There is always the chance but I have done all that I can to minimize
that possibility."  I could have outlined more of the after action 
plans, but I chose to keep those to myself.  I insisted that they spend 
Friday night at Lucy's place.  I had the bike there and I needed to do 
some more things to finish up the plan. 

Lucy and I parked her car in a church parking lot with a view of Andrea
and Sheila's driveway entrance.  Sure enough the cars started to arrive 
around 6pm.  After about ten cars I had Lucy drive me home.  I climbed 
on the Tomos and rode into the country. 

I was about five miles out when I turned on the cell phone.  It was not
the one I had been using.  I had a new phone which I had purchased at 
the Jacksonville Wal-mart.  It was already activated, I had done that 
in the parking lot of the store just before I removed the battery. 

I was sitting on top of a small concrete bridge over a deep looking
creek.  It was pretty dark so I couldn't tell just how deep it was, but 
the banks were steep which made me think it was four or five feet deep. 
 I checked my watch to make sure it was after 9pm, then I dialed 911 
and waited. 

"911 what is your emergency?" the female voice asked. 

"The police wouldn't do anything about those evil women so we have.  We
have planted three bombs at 467 Sycamore Lane.  The driveway is long 
and the house is in the woods. One bomb is outside against the basement 
wall, one is in the basement and one in the upstairs."  I closed with, 
"Do not call to warn them the trigger is the phone. Save the children 
Allah Akbar." 

I placed a call to the FBI and said pretty much exactly the same thing
to their operator.  I was through for a while at least.  I had done all 
I could do for Becky. 

I broke the connection, removed the battery, and threw both items into
the creek.  I removed the vinyl gloves and put them in my pocket.  I 
resisted the urge to ride by the house. 

The ride in the dark even with the small headlight had been unnerving. 
I was a wreck when I arrived at my garage apartment.  It was dark in 
Lucy's apartment so I slipped into the storage room.  I disinterred up 
my money from the dirt floor. 

I actually slept pretty well that night.  I made coffee the next morning
and waited for Lucy to come over.  She had promised to bring bagels. 

She had Becky in tow when I saw them coming up the outside stairs. 
"It's about time." I said smiling. 

"You are a genius Michael Abrams."  Becky said that as she hugged me. 

"So, you do understand but why I am a genius today?"  I knew but I
wanted someone to tell me the status of the operation. 

"The best we can figure the cops arrived at their house last night on
the bomb call.  When the cops knocked on the door there was general 
panic.  People running all over the place.  The cops had expected a 
hoax but were surprised by the response so they called backup.  Before 
it was under control every cop in town and most of the country cops 
were out there." 

"What the FBI didn't make it to the show?" 

"Oh they are all over town this morning.  They took the computer.  The
one that had the hard drive back in it, I'm sure.  That was just 
brilliant." 

"So what do we do now?" Lucy asked. 

"Well I'm going to eat my bagel, then I'm going on a long vacation.  You
two do what you have to do to survive.  If the cops come, just do what 
you need to do to avoid trouble.  Don't worry about me.  Here is what I 
want you to do.  Put a message on the internet."  I handed her a web 
address written on a piece the envelope of a utility bill.  "Put it on 
this blog if you are not contacted by the police in two months.  Make 
it Halloween night.  If it is before or after I will assume you are 
compromised and I will keep going.  If there is no message I will just 
keep going so do what you need to do." 

"So you are leaving?" Becky asked. 

"A couple of months of vacation with Sheila's money actually." 

"I wish I could have seen the raid," I said smiling. 

I left two months rent money with Lucy so that she could keep the place
going.  I also left enough for her to pay the utilities.  I left on the 
Tomos with the homemade trailer in tow.  It wasn't great but I was able 
to easily do a hundred or so miles a day.  I planned to spend no more 
than a couple of days in any one place.  I didn't expect the cops would 
be looking for me, but one never knew about such things until it was 
too late. 

Oh yeah I did get to see the police raid on video.  It hit the local
news, then the national news, and finally it went viral on the net.  It 
was too compelling a story to stay quiet.  Plus there was the mystery 
of who planted to pipe bomb.  They never did get around to explaining 
that it was harmless. 


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