Finding Floyd (29 page)

"You go ahead. Ralph brought me so much, and
I'm not even hungry."

He looked at the plate loaded with fat
sausage patties, a mound of scrambled egg and fried potatoes.
Nearby, another plate was overflowing with huge cinnamon buns and
muffins. His stomach growled so loudly that they both laughed.

"Go ahead." She waved a hand at the food.
"Eat it, I'm not going to."

"You need to eat something too. Ralph
wouldn't like it if I ate your breakfast." Without hesitation
however, he started on the eggs and sausage.

"There's tons of stuff inside. Julia and
Ralph have been cooking like crazy." She reached for one of the
blueberry muffins and broke off a piece, nibbling as she watched
him eat. Gazing out at the mountains washed by morning sunshine,
she said, "They really are blue, aren't they."

"Yeah, that's why they call them the Blue
Ridge Mountains."

She threw a chunk of muffin at him. "Very
funny."

"Hey! Don't waste that muffin." He popped the
morsel into his mouth and then bit into a fat cinnamon bun,
dripping with white icing. Moaning in pleasure he mumbled, "This is
incredible!" After that, he ate in silence, systematically
finishing off most of the food.

Finally, he leaned back on the wicker couch
and sighed. "I guess everybody inside is still pissed off at
me."

"Well yes, they are my friends after
all."

"And I seem to get you in a lot of trouble.
Am I right?"

"Well yeah, there is that." She smiled.

He paused and looked at her. "Diane. What
about you? Are you still mad at me? I'm sorry about the way
everything turned out. I said some lousy things to you and I'm
sorry."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not mad at you.
I love you."

He sat up straight. "What? No kidding? After
all that's happened?"

"I love you too much to stay mad at you for
long. When Toricello answered your phone and I knew he'd captured,
or maybe even killed you... I realized that I loved you. That's why
I'm going home as soon as Sandy comes back. She sent a text. Her
mom is much better and she said she'd be here on Monday."

He stared at her. "I don't get it."

"I'll get over you." She looked away. "I was
in love with John for years, and I got over him."

"Diane. I love you too. Please don't go!"

"Come on Chris. Don't say, 'I love you.' just
because I said it first."

"I'm sorry Diane. I would have said something
sooner, but I thought you'd never speak to me again, after the
lousy way I treated you."

"Stop it. Look at it this way. You have a
dangerous job that you love. I have a life back in Pippin's Grove.
It's better this way. It's better if we just forget about it and
pretend nothing ever happened."

"I love you," he whispered, grabbing her
hands and drawing her to him.

"Oh Chris," she began, as tears slid down her
cheeks. "It wouldn't work. You'll probably go back undercover and
disappear. I'd worry." She shook her head. "No, I want to go
home."

They were interrupted by the pitter-patter of
small feet approaching. Little Lina Shackelford rounded the corner
and stopped, staring at them curiously. Her doll was cradled in one
arm on her hip.

"Why is she crying?" She gave Chris a
disapproving look.

Diane wiped at her tears. "I'm not crying.
Not really."

"Is he your boyfriend," she said to Diane,
frowning.

"No." Diane smiled at the little girl.

"Yes! I'm her boyfriend," said Chris."

Lina shifted the doll from one arm to the
other and stood, silently appraising them, tapping one foot
impatiently. "Are you going to get married to her?"

"No!" said Diane looking horrified.

"Yes!" said Chris.

Lina examined Diane's hands. "Where's the
ring? I don't see any ring on your finger."

Chris looked sheepish. "Um. I didn't get one
yet."

Lina treated him to a dramatic roll of her
eyes. She shook her head. "Then you can't get married. There has to
be a ring, a pretty one with a big sparkly diamond."

At this Diane began to giggle.

Lina noticed the empty plate on the porch
floor at their feet. "Did you have cinnamon buns?" she asked
suspiciously.

"We sure did," said Chris. "Had muffins too
and everything was delicious, wasn't it?"

"Mommy gave me eggs first. Mommy said not to
eat too much sugar so she only gave me a half a cinnamon bun. That
great big man in there." She pointed towards the kitchen. "He gave
me more. I got a big cinnamon bun from him when mom wasn't
looking." She held out her free hand with fingers splayed to
demonstrate how big. "He's a nice man."

"That's Mr. Spangenberg," said Diane.

"Yup, I know. I like him. He laughs a lot. I
think he likes Mrs. Blake." She whispered this, as though imparting
a piece of secret information.

Chris whispered back, "I think you're
right."

"Well," she said tapping her foot again.
"It's time for me to feed my baby." She started to leave, but
turned back and informed them, "Girls have boobies, with nipples,
so they can feed their babies milk. Boys don't." She gave Chris a
contemptuous smirk and trotted off the way she'd come.

They looked at each other and laughed out
loud.

By mid afternoon, the crowd had left and
Diane and Chris were rocking gently on the cushioned glider. Ralph
and Julia had finished cleaning the kitchen and started out the
back door.

"You two still out here?" Ralph rumbled.

"Yeah," said Chris. "We're just going to hang
out here. What about you?"

"Julia is going to show me her place in town.
Then maybe we'll take a drive. It's a beautiful day."

"Sounds good." Chris nodded.

"There's plenty of food in the refrigerator."
Ralph ticked off a list of various leftovers neatly packed away,
just in case they got hungry. "Now you make sure that girl eats
something."

"Yes, sir!" Chris saluted Ralph and Julia
laughed.

With a wave they were off across the lawn,
and climbing into Julia's car. They disappeared around a bend in
the road.

A sharp chill breeze picked up and Diane
shivered. She was alone with Chris and she wasn't sure she liked
the idea.

Searching for a topic of conversation she
asked, "So...how did you find Floyd?"

"What are you talking about?" He looked at
her curiously.

"Why here? Why did you come to this
particular place?"

"Oh, you mean building my house here. Dumb
luck I suppose." He shrugged. "I was in the vicinity, working on a
case about four years ago. It seemed like such a friendly place.
Quiet, peaceful, and for the most part, everyone here gets along.
When you talk to other people who've come here from somewhere else,
they've always got a story about finding Floyd. They ended up here
by some accidental quirk, like taking a wrong turn on the road, or
the wrong turn in life. The next thing I knew, I was buying land
and making plans to build the house."

Chris grew quiet and she turned to see that
he was studying the woods intently. Following his gaze, she saw a
flicker of movement. Something was disturbing the bushes beneath
the trees.

"Be still," whispered Chris and he pointed
toward a stand of trees, beyond the wood pile.

"What is it?" she whispered. She didn't see
anything at first, but then the bushes trembled and parted and she
saw a flash of black. A little head appeared, looked at the house
and vanished again.

"Some kind of animal?" she asked.

"Bear cub. Let's see if he comes out
again."

They crept to the porch railing, watching the
woods. Sure enough, the fuzzy little creature emerged sniffing
around the edge, where lawn met undergrowth. Apparently, it thought
better of venturing into this unknown territory, turned and
scuttled off into the shrubs.

"How cute," she breathed.

Chris put her hand in his and held it. "You
see a cub and there's going to be a mama bear not too far off. Mama
might not be so cute." As they watched the woods, she felt his grip
tighten, squeezing her hand.

"What? What is it?" she said.

"Not sure, but there's something..."

Then she heard a noise, but it didn't come
from the woods. In the stillness, a pair of loud clicks sounded
from behind them and a shiver rose along her spine.

They turned slowly together to stare at the
twin barrels of a shotgun leveled at them. Above the gun was the
haggard face of Bruno Toricello and he wasn't smiling.

2 lbs. ground pork shoulder

1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt

1/4 teaspoon ground pepper

1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1/4 teaspoon grated nutmeg

1 teaspoon thyme

1 tablespoon rubbed sage

2 tablespoons white wine, or Sherry

Combine all ingredients in a bowl and mix
thoroughly.

Cover and refrigerate overnight, or up to
twenty four hours.

Form into patties and brown in a skillet.

Cook thoroughly.

"All right, you morons. Get back inside."

The Blowtorch held them at gunpoint. Chris
instinctively moved to disarm the fugitive, but realized Diane
would be in the line of fire if he deflected the shotgun barrel, so
he pulled back.

Toricello grinned. "That's right. Don't try
nothin'. She could get hurt bad."

Assessing the situation, Chris was forced to
agree. Diane's safety had to be his primary objective. She had
visibly paled, but he was proud of the way she stood next to him
facing their captor.

Toricello probably hadn't slept much in days.
Dark circles ringed his sunken, red eyes. His jaw sprouted several
days of ugly steel grey stubble. He must have traveled at least
five miles overland to get here.

With the shotgun barrel trained on them,
Chris put a protective arm around Diane as they made their way back
into the kitchen.

Toricello looked around and snorted. "Nice.
Real nice. I been on the run sleepin' wherever, eatin' crap, and
look at your nice arrangement you got here. I'm takin' advantage of
this. I oughta shoot you right here, but I wouldn't want to make a
mess in this fancy place."

Diane whimpered softly and shrank into
Chris's arms.

"Shaddup already!" Toricello looked at her
with disgust and yanked a chair away from the table. "You, FBI boy.
Sit! Now you. Blondie. Find some duct tape, quick. You're gonna tie
your boyfriends hands behind his back."

Chris looked at Diane, nodding slightly.

"Hands behind your back, asshole! Don't even
look at her. We don't want any heroes here. You know what I'm
saying? Understand?" Then, motioning to Diane with the shotgun he
yelled, "Don't look at him either! Don't say nothin'. I'm watching
you. You got that?"

"Come on Bruno. Why not let her go?" Chris
tried to reason with him. "She can't hurt you."

"Yeah. You'd like that. She'd forget all
about seeing me," he drawled sarcastically. "Hey, Blondie! Where's
that tape?"

"I'm looking, Mr. Toricello." Her voice
quavered and her hands shook as she opened each of the drawers
along the counter.

"Hey, what'd you do with the hair? You
changed your style. I think I liked it better long, but it don't
matter now. Gonna blow a hole in the back of that pretty head, hair
or no hair."

Chris saw her hesitate when she opened the
drawer where the carving knives were kept. She moved her eyes to
his, as her hand reached in, but reluctantly slid it closed when he
frowned.

"I'm sorry. I can't find any tape in here.
There might be some in the basement," she suggested.

"Cute. Real cute." Toricello smirked at her,
and then prodded her with the gun toward the dog leashes hanging
handily on the wall. "Use one of them."

Poor Bella was locked in the living room,
where they could hear her low growls of frustration as she paced,
her toenails clicking on the hardwood.

Diane knelt behind Chris and struggled to tie
one of Bella's leashes around his wrists. Toricello reached around
and tugged on the knots, mumbling, "I don't get it! Everybody's got
duct tape. What's with you people?"

Great. Just great. Chris let out a long
breath. Stealing a sideways glance at Diane, he saw the stoic
expression on her face. She managed a slight shrug of her shoulders
in acknowledgement as she worked at the knot.

Shit. I should have seen this coming. How
could I let that bastard just walk right up to us? Some Special
Agent! Yeah. I really know how to take care of the woman I love.
Well I got her into this, and I'm going to get her out of it.

"Okay, now you're gonna pack me some lunch."
He glanced around. "Get me one of those big bags and start filling
it with food."

With shaking hands, she opened one of Sandy's
reusable grocery bags and began filling it with muffins.

"Here!" he growled, elbowing her aside. "Give
me that." Picking up the basket of muffins, he dumped the contents
into the bag. Pointing the shotgun at the refrigerator, he said,
"Now, make with the food."

Diane did as she was told, adding Ralph's
leftovers to the bag.

Spotting Ralph's car keys on the table, he
snatched them up and pocketed them. "Gonna leave here in style in
that brand new Caddy and this time I'm leaving alone. You ain't
gonna dick around with me this time. You two will be lying face
down out there in the woods takin' a dirt bath. Piss me off once,
that's the only chance you get." His level gaze was pure
malevolence.

Chris watched, seething with rage and
frustration, as Toricello roughly turned Diane around, grabbed
another leash and tied her hands.

Balancing the gun under his arm, he grabbed
the grocery bag. The gun was leveled at them as he reached into the
bag and came up with one of Julia's cinnamon buns. Bruno bit into
it savagely. He took another bite and grunted with satisfaction.
Stuffing the last of the bun in his mouth, he chewed and mumbled,
"Damn that's good. My mother used to make stuff like this. For an
instant he seemed to soften and his red rimmed eyes misted.
Blinking rapidly, he grabbed the bag of food and prodded them with
the gun. "Fuhgeddaboudit. We got other business here. Get
going."