I started running in the direction of the harbor. Bob’s house wasn’t far from the Sound. Maybe I could steal a small boat, head up to the Stratford shore near where Bob lived, beach the boat, then hoof it the rest of the way to his place. Then, with any luck, I could talk him into giving me another car so I could start driving up to Stowe.
I got to the harbor. It was a warm evening, and many people were sitting on their boats, having a drink, chatting with friends, their voices coming through the night like soft background noise. Stealing a boat might not be all that simple.
I was skulking around a parking lot that edged up to some tree cover. I was tiptoeing across gravel to the most remote end of the lot, wondering if there was any chance someone might have left their keys in a car—did anyone do that anymore?—when something about a van I was walking past caught my eye.
Stenciled on the rear windows were the words Shaw Flowers.
As I came up around the driver’s side, I could see what appeared to be two people up front, leaning into each other over the console.
I tapped the driver’s window with the barrel of one of my acquired weapons. He jumped, and as he turned to see who it was, his blonde-haired companion slumped forward lifelessly onto the dashboard.
“Hey, Ian,” I said through the glass.
He powered the window down. “Oh my God, it’s you,” he said.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I can see that’s not my daughter with you.”
“My aunt made me tell,” he said quickly, defensively. “She made me tell who hit me. But I told the police it was all a mix-up.”
“I know,” I said. “I appreciate that. And I never told anyone about your friend.”
“Thanks,” he said quietly. “What do you want? What are you doing here?”
“Unlock the back door,” I said. “I need you and Mildred there to make a delivery.”
I got into the back. I set the guns on the floor and put Milt on the seat. Surprisingly, it was the stuffed moose that caught Ian’s attention.
“And you think I’m strange,” he said.
WE SPOTTED THREE CRUISERS wandering the neighborhood before we got back up to Route 1.
“They all looking for you?” Ian asked while I looked around in the back of the van, trying to stay below the window line.
“The less you know, the better,” I said. “You’ve got a wrapped-up bouquet sitting back here.”
“Yeah,” Ian said. “Been trying two days to deliver it. The people are away.”
I gave him directions to Bob’s house. “Drive down the street once, see if the place is being watched. Cop cars, or what look like unmarked cop cars. We do that a couple of times, and if it looks clear, pull into the driveway.”
“Okay.” He paused. “You know, I don’t normally deliver flowers this late. Won’t that look weird?”
“Let’s hope not,” I said.
It didn’t take long to get to Bob’s neighborhood. “Houses are really nice around here,” Ian said. “I’ve delivered up around here before.” He paused. “I don’t see anything that looks funny.”
“Let’s do it,” I said. “I want you and Mildred to hang in for a minute.”
“Her name’s Juanita,” Ian said.
He pulled into Bob’s very wide driveway, right next to the Hummer. I grabbed the wrapped bouquet, slipped out the side of the van, walked up to the front door.
Susanne looked shocked when she opened it. At first I thought she was reacting to the late-night floral delivery, then realized she was looking right at me.
“My God, what happened to you?” she asked, Bob standing in the hall a few feet behind her. She took the flowers from me and set them on a nearby table.
At first I was thinking she’d already seen my nose. It hadn’t occurred to me that I’d sustained more injuries. I glanced in the front hall mirror. My cheeks had several small cuts in them. My forehead was bruised. Shards of broken window glass and hitting your head on the steering wheel will do that to you.
And there was still duct tape hanging off one of my wrists.
“I don’t have time to explain,” I said. To Bob I said, “What have you got for me?”
“Where’s the Beetle?” he asked, peering out into the drive and seeing only the van.
To Susanne I said, in a rapid-fire delivery, “I know where Syd is. She’s in Vermont. In Stowe. There are people already on their way to get her. They might already be there. I need to get there fast.”
I thought she’d pepper me with questions, but she instantly grasped that my taking time to answer them would not be in Syd’s best interest. She said, “Just take Bob’s car. Go. Now.”
She was referring to the Hummer, Bob’s massive SUV. I didn’t like the idea of heading up to Stowe in that beast. It stuck out like a sore thumb, was lumbering and slow to respond, I’d lose too much time stopping every hundred miles to fill it up with gas, and before long the police might be looking for it.
“Something else, Suze,” I said.
She nodded, instantly understanding. “On the lot, we just took in a Mustang. Has a V8 under the hood.”
“Come on,” Bob protested, “you can’t be serious.” He looked at me. “You know the police have been by here twice tonight looking for you? What the hell’s going on, Tim?”