3rd World Products, Book 17 (17 page)

Sipping, I replied, “Don’t care.”

Again taking a seat at the table, I watched her shuffle stuff from old fridge to new. I had no doubt she was aware of my ogling. Would she object or just ignore it? Or use it?

Marie finished shuffling stuff and began cleaning the old fridge. I suggested that they’d probably want to do that themselves.

She said, “I’m sure they will, but I’d be embarrassed to hand it to them in this condition.”

This condition? It didn’t look particularly dirty to me and they’d sanitize it on general principles. Whatever. I watched her work until she put the cleaning stuff away. Marie came to sit at the table looking a little flushed. Light perspiration made her skin softly reflect the light as she sipped water. Her scent drifted to me across the table.

She noticed my eyes on her throat and lifted a hand to touch the spot. “What’s wrong? Is there something there?”

Abruptly standing up, I said, “No. I’ll move the old fridge outside now,” and cast a pad to do so. Once the fridge was on the porch, I stood near it and surveyed the area for no good reason for a time. Well, not exactly ‘no good reason’.

Marie was sharp enough to know I’d been looking at nothing but her. Pretending I didn’t want her to see my level of interest would likely bring her out to the porch shortly, if only out of curiosity.

In a spot of the chrome trim on the old fridge, I saw Marie watching me and realized two things; I didn’t want to try to manipulate her and I had to presume she’d know exactly what I was doing. On the raised earthen berm beyond the back fence, a man was doing something around a small tree. Likely strapping it against wind. I waved and he waved back just as Marie stepped out to stand beside me.

She peered outward and asked, “What’s he doing?”

“Strapping that new tree so it grows straight.”

“Do they really have to do that?”

With a shrug, I said, “Somebody seems to think so. They do it to a lot of new trees.” Gesturing at the yard, I said, “The soil here is mostly sand, so they strap them into position until the root ball spreads enough.”

After a moment of watching him work, she asked, “Is that the real reason you came out here?”

I shook my head. “Nope. You were getting to me in there.”

She snorted a chuckle and, “Getting to you?!”

“Yup. Looks. Scent. All that. I came out here to clear my head.” Giving her a direct look, I added, “And being upwind, you really aren’t helping that effort at the moment.”

Grinning, she replied, “Poor baby. Would it help if we got this fridge moving to its new home?”

“It might.”

“Then let’s get to it. They’re expecting us.”

Nodding, I called Galatea and we hauled the old fridge to the south side of town and what was once a standard-sized grocery store, where I had Tea set down inside the loading dock. Some guy standing at a podium-style mini-desk was yakking on the phone. He turned to see a flitter three feet behind him and stopped talking as he froze with a ‘what the hell?!’ expression.

Marie laughed softly and said, “Harry, here’s the fridge. Where do you want it?”

He managed, “Uh… Over by the cooler. Near the bananas.”

The spot they’d prepped was fairly obvious. I had Galatea field the fridge into place as Harry came over.

Marie sidetracked his questions with, “Where’s Rhonda?”

“Uh… up front, I think.”

“Okay. Hope you can hook this up. It makes ice.”

I let Galatea vanish and we passed through the swinging doors. A tall, dark-haired woman near the registers at the front of the store answered her phone, gestured as if trying to calm someone while she spoke, and then turned to see Marie and me. She said something brief and tapped her phone off as she began walking toward us. Marie smilingly gave her a little wave as we neared each other.

After greetings, I let Marie explain the unexpectedly rapid arrival of the fridge.

Rhonda looked at me and said, “Tanya told me a little about you.”

“Good stuff or bad stuff?”

“Is there any bad stuff to tell?”

I shrugged. “Can’t think of any just now.”

She chuckled, “No, of course not.”

Lights flickered overhead and Rhonda swore softly, then apologized, “Sorry. The lights have been doing that for months.”

I said, “Looks like a short. I’ll check it out.”

“We don’t have a ladder tall enough and…”

Ignoring her further comments, I called up my board and lifted to the lighting fixtures. Sending a probe through their lines found the short; it looked as if something had once been connected near the fixture’s opening. Not far away inside the huge fixture was a bird’s nest with three tiny eggs. The wires were capped, but one of the caps was loose. I took the cap off and used a tendril to twist the wire tips together, then tightly recapped them.

Lowering myself back to the ladies, I let the board vanish and said, “It was a loose connection and there’s a nest with three eggs up there. Every time Mama bird went in or out, she moved the wires. They can’t move anymore.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yup. Crimped and covered.”

Looking up at the fixture, Rhonda said, “This place had some broken windows and missing fittings when we got it. There might still be some openings along the ceiling. Any suggestions?”

“Yup. Mama’s getting food and water somewhere, so watch for her coming and going. Patch the exterior hole — or holes — and put a bird cage on a rope. You can raise and lower it for cleaning and restocking. Get her used to using it and her kids will use it, too. That’s when you can close the cage door and take them outside to let them go.”

“What kind of bird is it?”

“Didn’t see it. Might be a good idea to see if anyone else knows before you invest in bird food she might not eat.”

Marie said, “I think I’ve seen her. She isn’t very big.”

Rhonda seemed to give the matter a moment’s thought, then said, “Probably a sparrow. I can get a cage from Tim and I have some clothesline in the office. Let’s go get it and string it up now so it’s ready.”

And so it was. We picked a spot where nothing below would be splattered with seed or bird poop and I flew the cord up and over one of the support beams, then tied the cord ends down at the end of a set of shelves. Rhonda said she could take things from there and told a couple of workers to pass the word about the rope.

She and Marie went back to the fridge while I looked around the store. Half of it was stocked with food and the other half contained shoes, clothing, and household items. I headed to the back and found the ladies wrapping up their conversation. We said our goodbyes and Marie and I lifted away on our boards.

A few minutes later, we were a few miles north of Spring Hill when a northbound SUV on I-75 practically skidded to a halt on an overpass about fifty feet past an exit ramp. The SUV began to back up, but its left rear corner swung out just a bit too far and the front bumper of a passing 18-wheeler hit it.

The truck’s cab sort of hopped a bit and tore past the SUV, but the SUV’s rear twisted left and snagged on something. The SUV then spun completely around in a split-second as the side of the truck crushed and crumpled everything it touched.

As I banked to descend, I called Athena and had Galatea set a copy of herself as a flashing red roadblock a hundred feet behind the SUV. The truck had slowed, but was still moving forward and wandering into the next lane. A probe showed the driver slumped at the wheel with a bloody gash on his left temple. I had probes steady the steering wheel, move the shifter to neutral, and unlock and open the driver’s door so I could get in.

Athena appeared and tended the driver as we moved him over and I took his place behind the wheel. Treading the brakes, I eased the truck onto the shoulder to park it as another truck and two cars pulled over ahead of me.

“Hi, there,” I said to Athena, “How’s the driver?”

“He was developing a concussion. I’ve prevented that.”

“Kewl. How’s the other driver?”

“Broken and bleeding, but not irreparably damaged. Her vehicle, however, will have to be partially disassembled in order to extract her.”

“Guess I oughta get started on it. Thanks, Athena.”

She smiled. “You’re welcome.”

I got out, stepped onto my board, and flitted back to the SUV, where Marie was just staring into the vehicle.

She saw me and said flatly, “She just appeared in there. Out of nowhere.”

Nodding, I replied, “That’s how she usually does it. I’m going to do some cutting, so stand clear.”

Using a short version of my light saber, I sliced the top and bottom of the door post behind the driver, then pulled it free. The door only swung open about four inches before it jammed near the hinges. Sweeping the saber through the hinges, I pulled again and the door fell away. I caught it and propped it up against the SUV’s fender.

The amount of traffic seemed to be steadily increasing. I wondered why, since it was only about two-thirty and wasn’t a weekday. Oh, well. I had Galatea make another flashing red roadblock just behind the SUV on general principles.

A Highway Patrol car arrived first, likely because it had already been on the highway instead of having to contend with city traffic. After parking to make her car a roadblock, Officer Dawn Stein used her radio as she walked over to us with, “Hi, Ed. Sitrep?”

“Two wounded being treated. Athena says they’re non-critical injuries. The SUV missed the exit, tried to back up, and stuck her butt too far out. The truck couldn’t avoid her.”

“You saw it happen?”

“Yup. She literally backed right into him.”

She spoke on her radio again as a Sheriff’s car arrived. After waving the Deputy ahead to the truck, she grinningly asked, “Does Agent Vicky know you’re running loose?”

I sighingly drawled, “Agent Vicky done cut me loose, ma’am.” Indicating Marie, I said, “This is Marie. She was the reason for all that fuss and bother. Marie, this is Dawn.”

The ladies shook hands and Dawn said, “You must be pretty special. He risked some serious prison time for you.”

As Marie gave me a startled sidelong glance, I faked concern as I said, “Don’t tell her things like that, ma’am. Her ego’s way too big already.”

Dawn laughed and said she’d better get to work, then told me to drop by the shop. I gave her a little two-finger salute and called up my board.

Marie seemed startled again. “We’re leaving?!”

“Yup.”

“But what about an accident report?”

“Like she said, I’ll drop by the cop shop.”

I lifted away from the scene and Marie followed. At a Sheriff’s sub-station, I asked for the case number of the accident and someone to take notes.

Deputy Rawlings waved and came over with, “I’ll handle it, Deputy Pierce.” Nodding at my mug, he asked, “Need some fresh coffee in that thing?”

“You bet. I’ll make some room for cop coffee.”

“Then follow me. Are you still a fugitive?”

“Nope. You gonna take my word for it?”

“Nope. But damned if you didn’t get away again.”

“Not necessary. Really.”

We arrived at a break room as he said, “Good to know. Who’s your friend?”

“The reason I was a fugitive. Her name’s Marie. I’d introduce you, but I don’t know your first name.”

“Jim.”

“Well, okay, then… Marie, this is Jim.”

With that, I picked up the coffee pot, poured a cup for Marie, and topped up my mug as they shook hands. A few minutes later we’d both filed reports and I headed for the restroom. When I returned, Marie sat alone at the desk.

I asked, “Did you scare him off, ma’am?”

“Something came up. He’s helping another deputy with a prisoner.”

“Ready to get out of here?”

She set her cup down and stood up. “Sure. Where to next?”

“No idea. Guess we could just fly around a while. Maybe something else will come up.”

Marie gave me a sharp, sidelong glance, but said nothing. After checking to see if Rawlings needed any more info, we went outside and lifted away on our boards at a leisurely speed. We were four miles north of town over Tooke Lake before she spoke again.

From a few feet to my left, she asked, “What did you mean when you said, ‘Maybe something will come up’?”

With a glance at her, I replied, “I meant I don’t have any plans. Don’t really even have any thoughts on further training, either, unless you want to take a look at a shallow wreck just to see how boards work underwater.”

Marie silently faced forward and changed her position slightly on her board. Hm. My answer hadn’t seemed to satisfy her at all.

“Marie,” I said, and when she looked at me, I said, “You didn’t seem altogether happy with my answer just now. I don’t do innuendo. I don’t do sly little hints, either. You already know I think you’re gorgeous and I’ll remind you occasionally ‘cuz that’s how I am, but the reminders won’t be subtle.”

She just looked at me for a moment, then gave me a grinning little nod of understanding before she banked hard and soared downward. I followed and stopped beside her a few feet from the top of a pine tree, watching a bear bumble along a path below.

Marie silently sent, ‘You risked prison for me.’

With a shrug, I replied, ‘I didn’t think so. Still don’t.’

‘That State Trooper — Dawn? — thinks so.’

‘She prob’ly doesn’t have all the facts.’

‘I know all the facts and I think so, too.’

‘Well, that’s your privilege, ma’am. Where are you going with all this?’

Shaking her head slightly, she said, ‘I’m just letting you know I know, Ed. There’s no way in hell I can ever pay you back. Living like that… You can’t imagine how many times I wished it would all just end. I hated being that way and the idea that someone would have to take care of me forever.’

The bear must have heard or smelled something. It looked around sharply, then quickly turned completely around. I watched it study its surroundings for a few moments, then looked at Marie.

‘Marie, you remember Dania Mueller?’

Her eyes flared slightly, then narrowed. ‘Yes.’

‘She found out which of us saved her kids that night. Cornered you in the border office and said things like what you just said to me. No way to repay. Undying gratitude. Remember how you felt?’