Plum Spooky

TWENTY-TWO

MUNCH PICKED THE scissors up from the table. “I should start working on your clothes before my time is up.”

“These are the only clothes I have with me,” I said. “If you cut them up, I won’t have anything.”

“Yeah, but you won’t need anything. I figure you’ll just go naked all the time.”

“That feels sort of icky.”

“You’ll get used to it. You’ll be like my sex slave. Besides, once I perfect my mind-control device, I’ll be able to control your mood, if you know what I mean.”

“Wouldn’t you rather have a girlfriend?”

“Are you kidding?” Munch said, looking for a place to start with the scissors. “What man wouldn’t rather have a sex slave?”

“Lots of men.”

“They’re lying. Sex slave is the way to go. You could do anything you want to a sex slave.”

I was wearing jeans and Diesel’s sweatshirt. The sweatshirt was thick and didn’t have a front zipper. Munch started cutting at the bottom of the sweatshirt.

“Ow!” I said.

“What?”

“You stuck me.”

“I did not. Stop squirming.”

“What do you mean, you can do anything you want to a sex slave? You aren’t weird, are you?”

“I don’t know. I want to try stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

I really didn’t want to hear any of this, but he only had twenty minutes left. If I kept him talking, I could considerably delay the whole naked thing.

“Everything.”

“I don’t do everything,” I said.

“A sex slave does everything.”

“Not this one.”

“Jeez,” Munch said. “Give me a break. I went to a lot of trouble to get you here. The least you could do is cooperate.”

“I could cooperate better if you uncuffed me.”

“I don’t trust you. Last time, you kicked me in the nuts.”

“I wouldn’t do that this time.”

“Wulf would be mad at me. He told me not to do that.”

“How are you going to do everything if I’m attached to this chair? A lot of my best parts are inaccessible.”

“Wulf already thought of that. He said I should have fun with you like this, and then when I want to do something different, like some of the everything stuff, I should get the two men outside to help me.”

I felt all the blood drain from my head, and I broke out in a cold sweat.

“That would be rape,” I said.

“You could think of it like it’s a science experiment,” Munch said. “And like those two guys are lab techs.”

“If you unlocked the restraints around my ankles, you could pull my pants off,” I said to him. “It would be okay because my hands would still be cuffed behind my back on this chair.”

Munch thought about it. “I’d like to pull your pants off,” he said. “It’s going to be hard to cut through the denim with these scissors.”

“I’m wearing a thong,” I told him.

“Okay,” he said. “But you have to promise not to kick me.”

“I promise.”

Munch unlocked the ankle cuffs and returned the key to the counter. He reached for the snap on my jeans, and I kicked him in the nuts. He went to his knees, his eyes bulged out of his head, and he crashed onto his face.

“If you so much as squeak, I’ll kick you again,” I said.

I stood and worked my arms up the chair back. Once I was free of the chair, I took the key off the counter and unlocked the cuffs. Munch was curled into a fetal position, the sweat soaking through his Star Trek shirt, his breathing labored.

I needed a place to stash him. The bathroom was no good. I couldn’t lock the door from the outside. Broom closet? Wouldn’t fit. Coat closet? No lock. Cellar door? Yes! The cellar would be perfect. I grabbed the back of his shirt, dragged him moaning to the cellar door, and shoved him down the stairs. Bump, bump, bump, bump. I locked the cellar door and crept around the house looking out windows. The two uniforms were in front of the house, laughing and talking, sitting on leftover cement blocks.

I tiptoed out the back door off the kitchen and quietly disappeared into the woods. My heart was pounding so loud I was afraid the guards might hear it in the front of the house. I had no idea where I was going. The Pine Barrens were huge, and if I walked in the wrong direction, I could walk for days and never see a road or a human being or hut. Problem was, I didn’t know the right direction from the wrong direction. I would walk a little and then stop and listen. Sooner or later, Wulf would discover Munch in the cellar, and he’d set out to find me. I walked for an hour and came to an ATV path that turned into a dirt road. I followed the dirt road, and in twenty minutes, I was on a two-lane paved road.

I looked at my cell phone. Still no reception. It was five-thirty p.m. and twilight. I saw a pickup truck in the distance, heading in my direction. I could hear the broken muffler a mile away. The truck was a wreck. Not something I could see Wulf owning. I stepped into the road and flagged the truck down.

“I need a ride,” I told the driver. “My car broke down on the dirt road. I need to make a phone call.”

“There’s a gas station and con ve nience store at the crossroads,” he said. “I could take you there. There’s a phone inside the con ve nience store you could use.”

I climbed into the truck. “That would be great. I really appreciate it. I’m Stephanie.”

“Elmer.”

He was in his late sixties. His hair was gray and thinning on top. He was wearing a plaid shirt, a navy quilted vest, and khakis. There was a thick layer of dust inside and outside the truck. The floor was littered with fast-food wrappers, and the upholstery reeked of smoke. Not that I was going to judge. I was happy to have a ride.

“What road are we on?” I asked him.

“This is Banger Road. The gas station’s at the corner of Banger and Marbury. I guess you’re not from around here.”

“I’m from Trenton. I was visiting a friend, and I got lost.”

“Easy to get lost here. The gas station is just up ahead.”

He reached the corner of Banger and Marbury, and the gas station and con ve nience store were closed.

“This here’s run by Booger Jackson. I guess Booger had something better to do than keep things open to night,” he said. “That’s the way it is in this neck of the woods.”

I looked at my phone. Still no reception.

“I’ll give you fifty dollars if you’ll drive me to Trenton,” I said.

“Fifty dollars. That’s a lot of money.”

I wasn’t convinced his truck could make it all the way to Trenton, but I’d go as far as he could take me. If I had to flag down another driver in Cherry Hill, it was better than staying here.

“Okay” he said. “I guess you must be in a bind to get home.”

He took Route 206, and I didn’t object. I didn’t think the truck was Turnpike material. Twenty minutes later, I had cell ser vice, and I called Diesel.

“I’m on my way home,” I told him.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m surprised you’re not combing the woods, looking for me.”

“I was in the air with Boon all afternoon. He just brought me back to Trenton. Ranger has twenty men on the ground. You need to call him.”

“I have a favor to ask. I have no clean clothes. Could you take the laundry basket to my mother’s house and ask her to throw everything in the washer?”

“I’m on it.”

I dialed Ranger.

“I’m okay,” I said.

“Where are you?”

“I’m on my way home.”

Lula was next on my list, and then my mother.

“I’m sending Diesel over with laundry,” I told my mother. “I’d really appreciate it if you’d throw it all in the washer.”

“Where are you? I tried to call. I made lasagna. It’s still warm.”

“Give some to Diesel when he gets there, and I’ll be there in about a half hour.”

“Was that your mom?” Elmer asked.

“Yes. She’s going to hold dinner for me. You can take me to her house in Chambersburg.”

“I haven’t been to Trenton in about twenty years. You’ll have to give me directions.”

IT WAS DARK when Elmer finally chugged to the curb and parked behind the Subaru at my parents’ house.

I wrenched my door open and jumped from the pickup. “I’ll be right back with your money” I said.

“I’ll be here.”

A black Porsche Turbo slid to a stop behind the truck, and Ranger got out. He closed the distance between us, pulled me to him, and held me tight.

“Are you really okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. It was scary, but I got away before anything bad happened.”

His voice softened and dropped to a whisper against my ear. “I had to see for myself.”

I allowed myself a moment to relax into Ranger. He was warm and strong, and all the bad, frightening things in life went away when he held me like this.

“How did you know I was here?”

“I have the Subaru tagged.”

I could feel Ranger smile. He saw the humor in his obsession to keep me on his radar screen.

“Does Diesel know?”

“Hard to tell what Diesel knows.” Ranger pulled back a little and looked at me. “Diesel has superbad enemies, and the people he chases aren’t normal. You need to be careful if you partner with Diesel.”

“He popped into my apartment, and I can’t get rid of him.”

“You could move into Rangeman until he leaves.”

“That’s going from the frying pan into the fire.”

The smile was back. “In some ways.”

“Anyway, he feels like a brother.”

“I’m sure he would love that description,” Ranger said.

Grandma Mazur opened the front door and looked out. “Stephanie? Is that Ranger with you? Is that your truck?”

“I have to go,” Ranger said. “Try to stay out of trouble.” He kissed me on the forehead, jogged back to his car, and took off.

Grandma came to see what was going on with the truck. “Who’s this?” she said, looking inside at Elmer.

“This is Elmer,” I said. “He was nice enough to bring me home when I got stranded in the Barrens.”

“He’s a cutie,” Grandma said. “He don’t look too old, either.”

“I got most of my original teeth,” Elmer said.

“We got a lot of lasagna,” Grandma said to him. “We kept it warm for Stephanie. You’re welcome to come have some lasagna with us.”

“That would be real nice,” Elmer said. “I’m starving.”

I looked back at the house and saw Diesel standing in the doorway, waiting for me.

“I had to buy more Pepto-Bismol,” he said when I reached him. “You’re giving me an ulcer.”

“I have a lot to tell you.”

“What’s with the sweatshirt? It looks like someone took a scissor to the bottom of it.”

“Munch was trying to get it off me, but it didn’t work out.”

Diesel grinned. “You kicked him in the nuts again, didn’t you?”

“It’s my signature move.”

He looked beyond me. “Who’s the guy with Grandma?”

“Elmer. I flagged him down after I escaped, and I bribed him to drive me home.”

“Elmer? And he’s from the Barrens?”

“Yeah.”

“Honey, you didn’t bring Elmer the Fire Farter home with you, did you?”

I glanced back at Elmer. “He didn’t say he was the fire farter.”

Diesel hooked an arm around my neck and hugged me to him. “This is why I love you.”

“Everyone sit down,” my mother said, setting the tray of lasagna in the middle of the dining room table. “Frank,” she yelled to my father, “come to the table.”

“I already ate,” my father said.

“You can eat again. Stephanie is here with guests.”

My father heaved himself out of his chair. “The big one isn’t a guest. I don’t know what he is.”

“He’s like a member of the family,” Grandma said.

My father looked down the table at Diesel. “Heaven help us,” he said.

Grandma poured Elmer a glass of wine and gave him a slab of lasagna. “We got red sauce for the lasagna, too,” she said, passing the gravy boat to Elmer.

“This looks good,” Elmer said, digging in. “I can’t remember the last time I had a meal like this.”

Diesel ate some lasagna and leaned close to me. “This is filled with cheese and hot sausage. I hope Elmer isn’t lactose intolerant. He’ll burn his truck down on the way home.”

At the other end of the table, Elmer was shoveling the food in.

“He doesn’t look lactose intolerant,” I said. “He’s putting extra grated cheese on his lasagna.”

My father was swiveled around in his seat, trying to see the tele vision. He was missing a Seinfeld rerun.

“It was real nice of you to bring Stephanie home,” Grandma said to Elmer. “Do you live in the Pine Barrens?”

“Yep,” Elmer said. “It’s the best place on earth. It’s filled with interesting people, and you don’t hardly ever see any of them.”

“I go to Atlantic City once in a while,” Grandma said, “but the bus don’t stop in the Pine Barrens.”

“Too bad,” Elmer said. “We got some good things there. Antique stores and such.”

Grandma gave him a second helping of lasagna. “Do you have a job?”

“No. I’m retired. It’s hard for me to keep a job on account of I have an affliction.”

“What kind of affliction?” Grandma wanted to know.

“I can’t talk about it,” Elmer said. “It’s unmentionable.”

Diesel and I exchanged looks.

“Oh boy,” I said.

“Are we done yet?” my father asked.

“We haven’t even had dessert,” Grandma said. “Hold your shirt on.”

Elmer scraped his chair back. “I might have to use your restroom.”

“It’s at the top of the stairs,” Grandma told him. “I’ll get the coffee started.”

Elmer climbed the stairs, and moments later… BAROOOOM!

“What was that?” my mother asked. “It sounded like an explosion.”

Diesel pressed his lips together, and his face turned red.

“I appreciate the effort you’re making not to laugh,” I said to him, “but you’re going to burst all the blood vessels in your head if you keep holding it in.”

“I can’t believe you brought the fire farter home,” he said. “Couldn’t you have gotten a ride from the Easter Bunny or Sasquatch?”

“You should have been taking better care of me. It’s all your fault. I got kidnapped by your cousin. I’m lucky Martin Munch doesn’t have me pinned to a board like a frog in biology class.”

“You’re right,” Diesel said. “I should have done a better job of protecting you. But that said, I would have thought twice about getting in a truck with the fire farter.”

“I wasn’t thinking. I forgot about the fire farter. I was stressed.”

Elmer came back to the table, and Grandma trotted in with coffee and half an apple pie. She served the coffee and pie, and Elmer reached for the cream and farted.

Broomph!

Flames shot out of Elmer’s ass, set his pants on fire, and ignited the upholstered seat on the cherrywood side chair. Elmer jumped up and dropped his pants, drawers and all.

“Holy crap,” my father said. “That smells like the slaughter house burned down.”

My mother downed a glass of wine and poured herself another. And my grandmother leaned forward to get a better view.

“Don’t get to see this every day,” Grandma said.

Diesel dumped a pitcher of water on the chair and stomped on Elmer’s pants.

“Excuse me,” Elmer said. “The sausage was spicy.”

“That was a pip of a fart,” Grandma said. “I’ve seen people fart fire on YouTube, but I never saw anyone do it that good.”

We got Elmer outfitted in one of my father’s old work pants, Diesel gave him fifty dollars, and we sent him back to the Barrens.

“GOT MY MONEY’S worth out of that fifty dollars,” Diesel said, loading the laundry basket into the back of the Subaru. “I got to see a guy fart fire.”

I cut my eyes to him. “You were impressed with that?”

“Hell, yeah. I can’t do it. At least, not without a Zippo lighter.”

“Maybe Elmer had a Zippo lighter.”

“I don’t care how he did it. It was an excellent fart.”

We got in the car, and Morelli called just before we reached my building.

“I’ve had the strangest feeling all day,” he said. “Like something awful was happening. Are you okay?”

“Yes. How about you?”

“I’m better than okay. Anthony gets his stitches out tomorrow, and then he’s going home. His wife is taking him back. I’m not sure why.”

“She loves him.”

“Yeah, well, I love him, too, but I don’t want to live with him. Although, I have to say we had fun yesterday. We watched the game, and it was almost like he was human. What did you do?”

“Blew up a fuel depot, stole twelve rockets and made off with them in a stolen van, got kidnapped by a maniac, and had dinner with a guy who farted fire.”

“That would be funny, but I’m worried it’s all true.”

“It’s been a long couple days.”

“Did he really fart fire?” Morelli asked.

“Yeah. Set his pants on fire and burned my mother’s dining room chair to a crisp.”

“Wish I’d seen it,” Morelli said.

“Men are weird.”

“Cupcake, we’d all like to be able to fart fire.”

“Gotta go.”

“Love you,” Morelli said.

“Me, too,” I said. And I hung up.

Carl was in the kitchen, feeding cereal to Rex, when we got home. Carl would drop in a Fruit Loop, Rex would rush out of his can, stuff the Fruit Loop into his cheek, and rush back to his can. Carl would repeat the drill.

“Cute,” I said. “Carl has a pet.”

“Either that or he’s fattening him up for the kill.”

“Do monkeys eat hamsters?”

Diesel shrugged. “They eat pizza with pepperoni.”

Mental note: First thing tomorrow, take Rex to stay at parents’ house for duration of monkey visit.

I told Diesel about the cement-block house in the woods, and I repeated my conversation with Munch.

“There’s no point looking for the house,” Diesel said. “Wulf will move Munch. And we’ve caused him sufficient aggravation that he’s probably in the pro cess of moving the whole operation out of the Barrens.”

“He can’t do that overnight. Munch said he had four BlueBec rockets sitting on pads.”

“A rocket that size can be trucked out fairly easily. Most of its weight is in fuel. I just don’t know why we aren’t seeing it. I suppose he could camouflage a single rocket if he put it in a stand of pines. And he might even be able to hide an antenna array. What we should be seeing from the air is command central. He needs a place to house his men, track his rocket, plant his transmitter. And he’d need a generator. Why aren’t we seeing all that?”

“Maybe you’re looking in the wrong part of the Barrens?”

“No. Everything he does is in the same area. I know Banger Road and Marbury Road.”

“Apparently, they have everything in place to send up the sounding rocket, except for the barium. They’re waiting on the barium.”

“I talked to Cuddles. He said it would be in late tomorrow.”