The Plan

Chapter 41.

MICKEY SAT IN HIS FATHER'S OFFICE UPSTAIRS FOR TWO hours running the problem over in his mind, working the angles, exploring options. He was troubled by the fact that Kazorowski had answered the phone. The ex-fed had been with Lucinda and that meant there was a good chance he was also with Ryan. Mickey sat sideways in his father's office club chair with his legs over the arm and looked for solutions. Lucinda might cause some trouble. She undoubtedly knew things she didn't know she knew. She'd lived in the house while her father ran the family. She had to know that Joseph dreamed of controlling a presidential candidate. What if Kaz turned up the campaign funding? Or got to A.]. and scared the wonk into talking? Another unanswered question was, where were the tapes of Haze screaming and pleading in the airliner? If they surfaced, the whole plan could go under. On the other hand, Mickey was beginning to suspect that those tapes were out of the mix. If Ryan still had them, he would have already sent them to a TV station or Kaz would have threatened him with them. The fact that nobody had mentioned the tapes made him wonder if New York Tony hadn't destroyed them before he disappeared. Mickey had to believe Tony was dead.

Mickey finally decided that he needed a front-line mechanic. No more street characters swinging Louisville Sluggers. He needed somebody who wouldn't miss. He'd heard his father talk about an ex-CIA political assassin known only as the Ghost. Silvio Candrate was the Ghost's contractor and booked all his jobs. Mickey leaned over and looked for Silvio's number in his father's Rolodex. When he found it, he closed the office door and picked up the scrambled line his father had installed.

He left a message with Silvio's wife to have the retired gunsel call him once he got home. Then Mickey sat back at the desk and picked up the newspaper with Haze's smiling face on the front page. He remembered how the slick politician had been sweating in the motor home while Mickey bought his soul. He looked down at the picture, finally bringing it up to eye level in front of his face.

"I'm gonna own the President of the United States," he said softly. Power was Mickey Alo's drug of choice.

Elizabeth's phone rang at 2:38 A. M.. She was only in her first REM sleep because the couple downstairs had been doing a headboard rumba on the wall till almost one o'clock. She had rolled over, looked at the alarm clock and thought this had better be good. She fumbled the phone off the cradle.

"Is this Elizabeth Applegate?"' a woman's voice asked. "Who's asking?"

"Did you use to be Ryan Bolt's secretary?"

"Hey, honey, you know what time it is?"

"Ryan is with me. He's not in very good shape. You used to be his secretary…?"

"What's wrong with him?" Elizabeth said, trying to get her thoughts together.

"We need your help. He said you can borrow your brother's station wagon. We need you to come pick us up."

Elizabeth hadn't heard from Ryan in almost a month. She had a new boss who was a raging pain in the ass, making her punch out, then keeping her after hours at the studio and refusing her the overtime. Now her old boss was calling at two in the morning, asking for favors. Trouble was, she couldn't refuse Ryan anything. He was one of those guys she would always help.

"Put him on."

"Just a minute." There was the sound of the phone being passed, then the whispered memory of her old friend.

"Hi," the voice croaked softly.

"Ryan?"

"Sorry, Liz… Wouldn't ask if… Can ya help?" She was suddenly terribly concerned. "Ryan, what's wrong?"

"Zigged when I should a' ducked."

"Don't mix your metaphors," she lectured, trying to sound bright, but feeling dread at the way he sounded. "Okay, I'll get the wagon. Where are you?"

"I don't know. Just a min-" There was a fumbling sound and then the girl was back on the line.

"Sixteen hundred Mountain Road, Valencia."

"That's way out by Magic Mountain." It was at least forty-five minutes away.

"If you have any money, we could use it. I could write you a check, but I'm afraid if you cash it, it could be dangerous for you."

"Why is that?"

" 'Cause when it clears, my brother will see it and…" Lucinda stopped, not wanting to involve Elizabeth more deeply. "Forget the money, just hurry."

"The Elizabeth Applegate Rescue Wagon is on the way." She hung up, grabbed her sweats, and slipped them on. She was heading toward the door when she spun around and went into the bathroom, where she combed her hair and put on her makeup. "Damn it," she said out loud as she fixed her face, "I've still got a case on him."

She made the trip in thirty-five minutes because there was no traffic. Mountain Street was the turnoff just before Magic Mountain. She rolled down the off ramp and, as her headlights raked the intersection, she saw that 1600 was a sporting goods store. She pulled into the parking lot. She saw a tall, light-skinned black man standing next to a panel truck with government plates on it. She pulled around the man and parked. By then, he had started removing pins, unhooking the tailgate, and through the windshield, she could see Ryan lying on a blanket in the truck bed. She got out of the car, leaving the engine on. Then she saw Lucinda coming around the side of the truck and her heart sank. She was beautiful with long, glossy hair and delicate features.

"I'm Lucinda Alo," the beautiful girl said.

"Elizabeth Applegate," she responded, turning her attention to Ryan, who was lying on the blanket. He looked thin and unhealthy.

"What happened to him?"

"He was shot in the leg… and then he reinjured it. He's lost a lot of blood and he's kinda drugged up." Deke jumped up into the truck bed.

"Who's truck is this?" Elizabeth asked the handsome coffee-complected man.

"It belongs to the government. Your tax dollars at work for you, but it's not supposed to be off the field. I gotta get it back, pronto," Deke said.

"And who are you?"

"Cat in a Hat." He grinned, doffing his fifty-mission cap. "Open up the back. The three of us oughta be able to get him in your wagon."

Elizabeth and Lucinda got on Ryan's right side and Deke carefully lifted his left, managing not to jostle the wounded leg. They got him into the back of the station wagon, and then Deke looked at Ryan. "Gotta go. Good luck, buddy."

"Thanks for the dust-off," Ryan said weakly.

"Thank Kaz. I wouldn't've done it for anybody else." And he got back into the truck. Without looking back, he pulled out of the parking lot and out of their lives forever.

Elizabeth got behind the wheel; Lucinda got in the rear of the wagon and sat next to Ryan. When Elizabeth turned to check on him, Ryan was looking up at her. The smile was in his eyes, if not on his lips.

"Thanks, Liz…"

"Ryan, what happened?"

"Just take me to the Linda."

She put the car in gear and pulled up toward the on ramp. She could hear Lucinda in the back, whispering to Ryan.

When they hit the transition bumps crossing over to the 405 freeway, Ryan moaned and Lucinda whispered encouragement to him.

Elizabeth felt very alone. As she listened to Ryan and Lucinda, she knew she was letting her life slip by.

They arrived at the marina and Elizabeth parked in the darkness, under a broken light at the foot of B dock. She and Lucinda got out of the wagon, leaving Ryan sleeping in the back; then Elizabeth led the way down the ramp to where she thought she remembered Ryan's boat being slipped.

"Shouldn't he see a doctor?"

"I'm going to work on that. First, I have to make sure he's safe."

"Safe from what? From who?"

"Please, just help me find his boat."

They walked farther down until Elizabeth could see the familiar profile of the beautiful fifty-foot ketch. Built in the fifties, she had classic lines. The wood hull had been varnished to a shiny dark brown; the cockpit was covered with white canvas. The boat was named Linda, for Ryan's ex-wife, but she had hated the boat and they rarely used it.

When Lucinda looked at the ketch, it was love at first sight. Sailing had been one of her childhood joys. She'd had a Sabot at Cape May when she was seven and had graduated to larger boats, winning some yacht club contests when she was in her mid-teens. She was at home o n t he sea. Now she jumped down and started to unsnap the canvas, exposing the teak decks and chrome fittings. "Look at this," she whispered as she unwrapped the boat with Christmas morning excitement. She moved below and checked the provisions. There was plenty of canned food and bottled water. She found the chart drawer and the battery selector switch and rotated it to ON BOTH BATTERIES. She turned on the cabin lights and checked the battery condition indicator. She stuck her head up and looked at Ryan's secretary.

"You seem to know something about boats," Elizabeth said.

"I'll manage. Let's get Ryan."

They brought over a rolling dock dolly and loaded the boat seat cushions into it, then got Ryan out of the wagon. He was gritting his teeth in pain as they moved him onto the dolly and rolled him to the boat. It was difficult getting him aboard, but they managed, finally settling him in the forward stateroom bunk. Once the transfer was complete, Elizabeth leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. "Damn, Ryan, take better care of yourself, will ya?"

He put an arm around her neck and whispered in her ear. "Missed you, Liz."

She stood up and held his hand for as long as she could, then moved out to the cockpit where Lucinda was pulling back the small engine hatch and checking the forty-horse Graymarine engine. She checked the oil stick, then replaced the hatch cover, leaving it cracked slightly for ventilation. She turned on the bilge fan and let it run, until it blew the engine compartment clean of fumes.

"You actually know something about this, don't ya?" Lucinda was removing the canvas cover on the pedestal compass. "I have a boat at home."

"What the hell's this all about? Who shot him?" Elizabeth asked.

"I'm fighting for his life. It wouldn't be safe for you to know more."

"In that case…" Elizabeth handed her all the money she had in her apartment. It was $450.

Lucinda took it. "He told me you were one of his best friends."

"Right, so don't fuck up and let him die."

Finally, Lucinda said, "Once I get the main going, can you cast us off?"

Elizabeth nodded and jumped onto the dock while Lucinda pumped the throttle to get gas to the carburetor. Then she hit the start button and the engine roared to life. Lucinda flipped some dash switches and the running lights went on.

Elizabeth untied the four lines and threw them onto the boat. Lucinda backed the ketch out of the slip into the channel. There was no adventure in Elizabeth's life and she envied the beautiful girl. She watched the Linda move slowly into the night until the twinkling masthead light disappeared from view. Elizabeth got back in the station wagon, but didn't start the engine right away. She sat in the dark, thinking.

She finally promised herself she'd quit her job first thing in the morning.

Lucinda made the crossing under power, deciding not to single-hand the big ketch under sail and try to take care of Ryan at the same time.

Once they got past the jetty and into open sea, the Linda began to buck and shudder in the close, four-foot swells. Lucinda was afraid that Ryan would roll off the forward bunk and onto the floor, so she ran down to check on him every few minutes. He was sleeping soundly. She propped up pillows around him and tried to take the swells on the quarter to minimize the chop.

There was a half-moon shining in the clear, February sky and she steered the sailboat across the sparkling moonlit water. Then she went below, took the chart of the Catalina channel out of the map tube, clipped it to the navigation table, and switched on the tensor light. She use d d ividers and parallels to plot the course, the way her sailing instructor at the yacht club had taught her when she was a teenager. She didn't know Catalina, but she decided not to go into Avalon Harbor because she was sure all the day boats went there. Instead she picked Toyon Bay, a small cove a few miles west. She went back to the wheel and set her course by the compass to 176 degrees.

She found Toyon Bay just as the sun was coming up. She got Linda into the lee of the cove and then dropped the bow anchor. The chain rattled through the hawsepipe, and once she had laid out fifty-feet of chain, she hit reverse and backed down on the Danforth anchor to set it. She checked for drift, let out some more scope on the chain, then turned off the engine and sat, listening. The rippling water gently lapped against the hull. The island was much more barren than she had expected… Scrubby mesquite plants were hugging rocks that jutted on the low cliffs. But there was a rugged beauty to the place. Across the hundred yards of water, she could see a dark shape of something large on the beach. She found a pair of binoculars under the pilot seat, directed them to the shape, and slowly focused in on a huge, sleeping beast.

"It's a buffalo," she finally said in exhilaration and surprise. She went below to tell Ryan, but he was still out, so she didn't wake him. Instead, she lay down on the adjoining bunk. She loved the gentle sway of the boat at anchor. For the first time in three days, she felt safe.

As the boat swung around in the shifting breeze, she thought about her mother. Penny would worry about her. Lucinda had been unable to reach her before she left.

In moments, Lucinda fell into a fitful sleep.