Hiding Tom Hawk (15 page)

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Authors: Robert Neil Baker

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BOOK: Hiding Tom Hawk
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Robert gave her the line they had worked up. “My uncle, the president of the company, is a responsible mine operator himself who realizes the damage reckless ore extraction can do. He plans to purchase land very near here for his retirement home and wants keep any new mines from brutally scarring the earth. To make sure of it, he’s buying the mineral rights wherever he can. It’s almost an act of public service.”

“What a fine fellow. One hundred thousand dollars.”

Robert gasped. “Surely that must be ten or twenty times the going rate.”

“Don’t call me Shirley, sonny,” snapped Mildred, whom Tom saw was having the time of her life. “The hundred grand is for the entire place. That’s acreage, house, garage, hunting blind and your precious mineral rights.”

“But, but, we weren’t planning on buying your property.”

“This saint-among-men, your uncle, he hasn’t bought any other land yet now, has he? If he had I would know. So this is as attractive as any parcel around. He might as well buy it and add a wing or two on to the house and live right here.”

Tom suspected she didn’t believe a word they were saying. But he wasn’t ready to give up. “You could bring yourself to leave your beautiful and cozy home?”

“Dang right I could. I’m sick of being cold two-thirds of the year. I want to move to Myrtle Beach and buy a Corvette. Based on the jalopies you travel in, you wouldn’t understand.”

Robert’s mouth opened, and Tom was waiting for him to speak and dig them into a deeper hole with their tormentor when they heard tires crunching the gravel of her driveway.

Mildred brightened. “My date is here.”

“Date?” Robert’s confusion seemed to grow by the minute.

“The Chief. He and I go out for pizza every other Sunday. If he thinks the pizza is good, sometimes we go back to his sauna and I get lucky. Now excuse me, I have to go and greet him. The price for this place is one hundred thousand.” She left the room.

Robert cried, “My God, Tom, I can’t have the Chief find me here. He knows I work for Gary, and Gary promised him he wouldn’t make another move on the mineral rights or the casino without him. The guy has a concealed weapons permit, you know. There has to be a back door.” He jumped up from the couch and headed to the hall.

Tom yelled, “Robert, no, he’s not here about you. Sit back down.” He also rose and went to the hall, but he was talking to a void. Robert was gone. Mildred came in the front with a large, handsome, dark-skinned and white-haired man of about eighty. He looked unhappy. He looked like he’d been unhappy for years.

“Who’s this?” the Chief demanded, squinting at Tom like he was something unpleasantly out of focus.

“Some kid I met in an alley. He knows my grandniece, Beth. He brought some stuffed shirt here whose boss wants to buy me out.” She addressed Tom, “Where’s the bigshot?”

“Um, he’s considering your proposal that his uncle live here. He went out your back door to look at the rear of the property. I hope you don’t mind.” Tom expected to be cursed for bringing her a stranger who felt free to choose his own exit from her house.

But Mildred had a different focus now that her beau was here. She instructed, “Well, you’ll have to go out and snoop around with him, Mr. Matthews. Today I’m locking this house up.” The inference was that she normally didn’t bother with the locks, but Robert and Tom hadn’t made a particularly good impression. She went to secure the back door.

“Oh, sure.” Tom moved to the front door as fast as he could. He stood on the porch craning his neck. Where was Robert?

Mildred and the Chief joined him. As she turned the front door lock, the Chief said, “You actually going to sell this place, Millie?”

“I seriously doubt it from talking to these birds. I’m famished. Let’s go.”

“Thank you for your time, Miss Mildred,” Tom managed as they walked away.

“Tell the bigshot mining boss one hundred grand, not a penny less,” Mildred called back over her shoulder. She and the Chief got in a nice Ford pick-up truck, a current model with four-wheel drive. Tom waved as they drove off, but they didn’t respond. As they stopped at the road, he saw a gold Firebird like Wyatt Stone’s pass Mildred’s driveway on the county road. Apparently gold was a more popular color in Michigan than it was in California. Where was Robert?

****

Where was Robert? Tom called his name as he headed for the nearest stand of trees. No response, but he found a fairly wide trail into the woods. Actually, it was more an old gravel road, now severely overgrown. He picked up a straight and sturdy three-foot tree branch to use as a walking stick and followed the road. He called again, but was now as interested in the road as in finding Robert. It ended disappointingly at a tall chain link fence surrounding several derelict buildings. Then he saw a sign, much more recent than the structures behind it. It read, Grant Minerals Corporation. G. Grant, President. So Gary actually owned something besides the grocery store after all.

Behind him he heard a scream, maybe more a yelp of protest—Robert’s voice. Tom jogged back up the road toward Mildred’s house. As he came in view of the driveway, he saw several young males gathered at the back of the Plymouth. It had been driven, or perhaps pushed back, onto the main driveway, pointed to the road. They had tied something to the back bumper of the car and it lay at their feet.

One of them spoke. The others laughed and moved and Tom saw the roped object rotate spastically. It was Robert. They had him tied hand and foot, lying on his back in the driveway, the line around his ankles continuing to the back of the Plymouth where it was looped around the bumper. One kid climbed in the Plymouth and Robert’s screaming all but drowned out the noise of the starter.

Or the non-starter, in this case. The Plymouth, whatever was ailing it, still declined to fire up. The would-be driver got back out, depleting his supply of variants on the f-word.

Tom had trotted a hundred feet closer to this lynch mob and was in the shade of the closest trees. “Hey, what the hell are you guys doing?” he called in a drill sergeant voice. As Robert’s assailants turned to try to make him out, he brought the walking stick up to shoulder like an automatic rifle.

The three young men each took an involuntary step back, looked at Robert, and lit out for the main road. As Tom reached Robert’s trussed and squirming form, an elderly red sedan sped away. Robert looked up with fear-crazed eyes and whimpered, “I was going to be murdered. They were going to drag me down the highway. I can’t take any more of this. I’m going to kill Gary Grant and drive to Canada. “

Tom knelt and untied him. “Calm down. You’re the guy who was ready to stare down the Bureau and Commie thugs ninety minutes ago. These guys looked like ordinary undergraduates. What did you do to piss them off?”

“They said I sold them some bad pizza. Damn Gary, I’ll kill him for sure. He gets that stuff. I don’t even know the contacts he uses except that one pothead calculus professor.” He struggled to his feet, fell to one knee, and got up again by holding the car bumper.

“Oh yeah, your oh-so-special pizzas.”

“Golly Tom, G-G’s Pizza is just a way of providing the student body some specialized services. But I guess we got it wrong for those three.”

Robert was a little calmer now, talking almost slow enough so Tom could understand him. A tiny stream of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Tom requested, “Humor me and fully outline the scope of these services, will you?”

“Well, we have used term papers, old exams and things. Lots of professors never update their exams. Also, the university gives students with a part-time job an early class scheduling permit. That’s a real plus for them since they get the best schedules whether they actually work or not. So Gary’s little grocery store ‘employs’ about fifteen stock boys each year. They get an employment letter from him for a modest payment.”

“And you’re telling me some of these kids tracked you down and trussed you up because they flunked a test or their class schedule got fouled up?”

“Well, no, those guys bought a more expensive service. Gary’s manufacturing company makes some little widget for the Navy under a defense contract. Based on that, he can get guys who are on his payroll a Selective Service Critical Skills Deferment to keep them from being drafted. But something went wrong in their case. They’re being called up and they’re not happy about it.”

“Don’t you have to be a
graduate
engineer or scientist to get those deferments?”

“Not always. And Gary handles the diploma thing too, for a fair price.”

“This is unbelievable.”

“What’s unbelievable is they were going to use my own car to drag me to my death. They might come back. The key is in the ignition. You’ll have to drive, I’m too shaky. Let’s get out of here.”

“Your car won’t start.”

“You’re an engineer. You can start it. You have to start it.”

Tom did. Robert was still raving, even after the engine fired, and he didn’t stop all the way to the B&B. Tom parked next to the gold Firebird. On impulse he felt the car’s hood. It was warm. But that only meant Wyatt had been out. In a town with about six important roads, including Mildred’s, he could have innocently passed her house. So it was probably no big deal.

As they came near the house, Tom said, “How are you doing now, Robert?”

“I’m better. You have no idea what it’s like to be a hunted man, Tom.”

Tom let that one pass. He didn’t follow Robert into the house, but went to the garage to gaze wistfully at the wounded Cutlass. Dani was wiping down the interior of her sparkling new Monte Carlo, the Cutlass’s uptown first cousin. He stuck his head in. The interior was gorgeous, complete with an aftermarket under-dash cassette tape player. He surveyed it lustfully and then told her, “Dani, we need to talk.”

She jerked in surprise at his voice and banged her head on the door window. “Cripes, Tom, you scared me. What’s wrong?”

“Harv and Marv are here. They grabbed Robert, believing he was me. Then they released him when he thought they were the FBI and started babbling about his part in Gary’s scams.”

“Oh boy, what comes next?”

“They’re in town and they’ll soon find me. You have to get out before I draw Tony’s fire.”

“Tony’s not going to hurt
me
until he’s one hundred percent sure I’m through with him. You’re the one who has to bug out. This is a great car. Let’s run away in it together.”

“No. I’ll leave this house, get away from the rest of you, but I’m not running. It hasn’t done any good. I know the territory here well enough now to have a chance to defend myself.”

“Oh, that’s right; you’re the big, brave Marine.”

“And you’re the one who said kill or be killed. I can do that somewhere around here.”

“Whatever.” She tossed her head and resumed her cleaning.

He pointed to the tape player to change the subject. “Does that thing work well?”

She looked up angrily, ready to snap at him, and decided to forgive him instead. “Uh-huh. It saved my sanity driving out here alone from California. I brought all my music plus a few tapes I lifted from Tony’s place when they put him in the slammer.”

“It looks good. I’ll have to get one of those players. Look, I’m sorry we quarreled. I’m glad you leveled with me about you and Tony, about everything. But I still have to stay here.”

“No, you don’t
have
to. But it’s your funeral.”

Chapter Ten

Tom had to bring Beth up to speed, but he procrastinated until ten p.m. to knock on her bedroom door. She opened it and stared at him in surprise. “Tom?”

“Beth, there’s an awful lot that’s happened since this morning that I have to talk to you about.”

She motioned him in and closed the door. “Is this about Mildred and those stupid mineral rights?”

“Not just that, although that didn’t go well either. It’s complicated.”

“Sit.” She motioned him to her recliner and perched on her bed. He told his story.

She sat rocking and holding her knees. “I can’t believe it. Dani is the girlfriend of the guy trying to kill you, and she floated the fat man away in a leaky boat after I left him on the beach. Are you certain I didn’t kill him?”

“Angelo? Hell no. Dani says he was very much alive when she pushed him off. Someone else had bashed him before you found him. Wyatt comes to mind. Anyway, Dani’s running from Tony too.”

“And Tony’s brothers from California are here, thought Robert was you, snatched him at the grocery store, and took him for a ride, but he talked his way free.”

“Yup. I was proud of him. He was really manning up after that experience, but then the students scared him half to death.”

“That’s happened before. It’s a hazard of the ‘pizza’ business. Is he safe now?”

“I don’t know. Harv and Marv Sartorelli are after me, not him. But there’s another problem.” He told her about Renada’s visit to his room that afternoon.

“Ohmigod. Do you believe her? I mean, about all the Stasi stuff?”

“I don’t know. But after what happened to him this afternoon I owe Robert, so I have to assume she’s telling the truth.”

“What do we do?” Beth sounded quite unhappy.

“Everyone except Wyatt may be in danger, but as far as we know nobody from California or Germany knows Dani, I or Renada are in your house. We’ve got to keep it that way. The four of you, Robert, Dani, Renada and you, have to take defensive measures.”

“And you?”

“I need to be the scout in town.”

That seemed to make her, if possible, unhappier. She snapped, “Leave here? Exactly where else will you stay?”

“Gary has two bedrooms at the back of that dump of a store. I could bunk with him for a few days and still help keep an eye on this place. Do you think he’ll go for that?”

She considered this for a minute or so. “Maybe. He desperately needs you to work for him.” She dialed the telephone and he listened intently to her side of the conversation.

“Gary, this is Beth. I’ve got the painters coming earlier than planned. I have to get your favorite new employee out while his room is re-done. Can Tom stay with you for a few nights?

“Mildred? No, Tom says it didn’t go so well today. She’s holding out, but he’s the only person who can talk her into it for you, cousin. You can ask him about it tomorrow. So he can stay?

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