Countdown (8 page)

Thirty-five minutes later, the
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van pulled to the curb right behind Marks’s stripped-down Mercedes. Luther Jones appeared out of nowhere, three of his gang behind him. He high-fived Dennis and the others as he introduced himself and his friends.

“What do you need us to do, man?”

Dennis drew Luther to the side, clued him in, then walked back to the little group. “He understands he and his friends are to stand guard until we get back. Once we dump Marks on the second floor, there is no way he’s going to leave unless Marks can fly. There is no heat inside this condemned building, which, by the way, belongs to Sandford. The water is still running so they can flush, but the system leaves a lot to be desired. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. They rigged up some electricity earlier and there is a fifteen-watt bulb hanging from the ceiling. And, Luther tells me the temperature is a robust forty-nine degrees. There is no furniture in the apartment, the floors are rotted, the windows broken, and when they rigged up the light, they let loose a dozen or so rats that they had trapped over the past few days. Hungry rats!”

“That excites me,” Jack said as he eyed Marks, who looked like he was going to black out at any moment. Espinosa grabbed one arm and Abner took the other as Marks struggled to free himself as he screamed at the top of his lungs for help. “Stop that right now!” Jack ordered. “If you don’t stop, we’ll take the lightbulb out, and you’ll be in total darkness. If that happens, how are you going to see the rats? Now shut the hell up.”

Marks shut up.

“Okay, boys, take him up to the second floor. We need to get on the road. Luther, my man, we appreciate all your help. If he starts to squawk, give him a good belt. Are you sure you don’t want me to leave Cyrus?”

“We got it covered, man. Go on, do what you gotta do. The dude ain’t gonna go anywhere. Glad to help. By the way, my granny and some of the others want to know if you folks are coming to the church service and the party tomorrow.”

“You know it,” Dennis said, accepting for everyone. Another round of high fives were completed before the group started back toward the van. “Hey, Luther, we forgot to frisk him. Take his cell phone and give it to someone who needs one. If he has any money on him, it’s yours.”

“All rightttttt,” Luther called over his shoulder as he climbed the rickety, rotted steps to the second-floor apartment.

The night was crisp and cold, with barely any wind. Millions of stars dotted the black night as the small group climbed into the
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van. Ted took the wheel, and Jack rode shotgun, with the others piling into the remaining seats. For the most part they were subdued, each busy with his or her own private thoughts.

Twenty minutes into the hour-long trip, Jack looked down at his watch. “When you spoke with Mrs. Sandford earlier, did you believe her when she said she and her husband were just making a token appearance at the mayor’s annual Christmas party?”

“Yeah, I did, Jack. When I told her I was bringing her an early copy of her spread, she about turned herself inside out. When I tried to nail down if her husband would be there for sure, she assured me he had gotten to the farm at two o’clock this afternoon and, like herself, had exactly no interest in staying at the party. She said they had to make an appearance and do a little meet and greet before they headed right back to the farm. She’s excited, I can tell you that.”

“Security?” Harry asked from the backseat.

“She didn’t say, Harry. I’m assuming not. He’s in his own bailiwick and feels safe there and knows the local police have his back. That’s what she told us on our initial visit, and I have no reason to think that would be any different now. There is no reason for anything to have changed in a matter of a few days. I take their going to the mayor’s party as a plus. If they do it every year, for sure their not attending might throw up a red flag. I think we’re good here. If not, we’ll deal with it when we get there. Between you and young Dennis, we have a two-man army.” Ted chuckled at his own wit.

No one said anything after that until Ted slowed the van thirty minutes later.

“I remember that old rotted tree, Ted. Go slow, there might be a light over the sign or maybe some of those reflector stickers on the other trees,” Dennis called from the backseat as he tried to peer out into the darkness. “There it is, right up ahead. Whoa, slow down, see there it is. The mailbox is lit up. Do you see it, Ted?”

“I see it. Okay, everyone, take a deep breath. What time is it?” Ted asked as he crawled along at five miles an hour over the unpaved, potholed road that would take him to the Sandford farmhouse.

“Holy cow, look at those lights!” Dennis shrilled from the backseat. “Would you look at that! Damn if it doesn’t look like Disney! She wasn’t kidding when she said the light show was spectacular! Not that I’m thinking this is spectacular but ... but . . .”

“It’s a nightmare light show,” Abner said, as the van inched closer to the residence. “They must have bought out some electric factory to light the place up like this.”

“Espinosa, you getting all this?” Ted asked, rolling down his window to get a better look at the reindeer dancing across the roof of the farmhouse. Everywhere, as far as the eye could see, were LED-lighted wire snowmen, wire Santas, wire elves, wire Christmas trees, wire sleighs filled with wire gift boxes. All the lights were multicolored. The ancient oak trees surrounding the driveway were all lit with blinking lights. Even the thick, round trunks were wired with the blinking lights. “Makes you dizzy, doesn’t it?” Ted cackled. “Wait till you see the inside. Just wait.” He continued to cackle.

“I think we’re here. I only see a Maybach off there on the side. Was that car here the day you and Espinosa were? Or is it the lieutenant governor’s car?” Jack asked.

“There weren’t any cars here the day we came. Mrs. Sandford said she gave all her staff time off for the holidays, so I’m thinking it must belong to his nibs, the lieutenant governor himself. The kids aren’t home, so it can’t be one of theirs plus it’s a Maybach, and you know what those babies retail for. It’s gotta be his. Mrs. Sandford probably keeps hers in the garage, and I’m thinking they were in a hurry when they got home and just left it outside. At least we know they’re home. Place is lit up like a Christmas tree, no pun intended,” Ted said, bringing the van to a complete stop behind the black Maybach. Everyone exited.

As one, the group’s jaws dropped as they gaped at the front porch, which was ablaze with flying, LED-lit wire angels holding trumpets. From somewhere, probably the side of the house, tinny sounds of Christmas carols could be heard.

“Now I’ve seen it all,” Jack said, his voice ringing in awe. “Even Vegas isn’t as honky-tonk as this.”

“And this woman wins the first prize every year for the best Christmas decorations?” Maggie all but snarled. “I’m not getting it. Are the judges blind?”

“Maggie, Maggie, Maggie!” Abner said. “What’s not to get? Her husband is the lieutenant governor. He’s filthy rich. He is in line to be the next governor of this fine commonwealth. It’s called kissing ass. But for all we know, the judges might really be blind. The good news is that this is the last year she’ll be winning anything. Wonder who will get to take all this stuff down?”

“Who cares. Will someone please ring the damn doorbell,” Ted said, “so we can get this show on the road.”

Harry reached forward and punched the doorbell. Then, for good measure, he raised the prancing stallion on the door knocker. They all blinked when they heard the scratchy Christmas song about Santa coming to town playing inside the house. Maggie rolled her eyes. “Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable!”

“Wait!” Dennis said. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

The door opened wide. Fiona Sandford stood there, resplendent, in a billowing lemon and lime skirt with a bright orange top. She rustled when she moved. Her hair was done up in a tight pile of curls on top of her head. Long lime green earrings, possibly jade, Maggie thought, dangled from her ears. Matching bracelets clanked on her wrists. The bee-stung lips were covered in crimson gloss, and a bit of food was stuck in the left corner of her mouth. One plucked eyebrow was longer and darker than the other. Maggie looked away so she wouldn’t laugh out loud.

“Mr. Robinson!” Fiona gushed as she stood aside to let the little group into the foyer of her home. Then she backed up a step, and asked, “Who are all these people and why did you bring them here? I don’t think my husband is going to like this. Not even one little bit. He was against my allowing you to come out here to begin with. Well . . .”

“They’re the judges. We need a picture of you with the judges. I thought I explained all that to you when I was out here earlier.”

The bee-stung lips went into full pout. “Yes, yes, you did. I am so sorry. I totally forgot. My manners are atrocious. I’m Fiona Sandford. And you are,” she said, pointing to Jack and on down the line, with each person stating their name in response.

“Can we get right to it, Mrs. Sandford? We have a deadline, and we do have to drive all the way back to the District. I’m sure you and your husband have things to do this evening since it is so close to Christmas. It’s up to you, do you want to share your ... ah . . . glory with your husband? If you do, he has to be in the picture.”

“Well, the truth is,” she whispered to Ted, “I’d rather he wasn’t in the picture, but he said he wanted to be in it, so what can I do. Like you said, this is my moment. I shouldn’t have to share it with him, but he
is
my husband. I think he gets his picture in the papers often enough. It’s my turn. He likes to be photographed wearing his ascot. He’s such a . . . never mind. Come along people, we can do this in the den, where the
big
tree is.”

She turned to Espinosa, and said playfully, “Make sure you get my good side, and you won’t hurt my feelings one little bit if my husband’s image is on the ... blurry side.” She reached up and tweaked Espinosa’s cheek to make sure he got the point.

With a straight face, Espinosa said, “What side would that be, ma’am?”

“Oh, you little rascal! Did you forget so soon? You said my right side is my best side. Capture me completely now. Ah, here we are!

“Tyler, I’d like you to meet the people I’ve been telling you about.” Introductions were quickly made.

“They have to hurry, Tyler, to make their deadline. We agreed to have the picture by the tree with both of us looking up at the angel.”

Jack decided right at that moment that he really, really didn’t like Tyler Sandford. He looked like what Jack’s father, a very shrewd judge of men, would have called a slick dandy. It was he and Harry who were going to light up the couple’s life with the Tasers in their pockets the moment they looked upward at the tacky tarnished angel atop the tree. That way, they wouldn’t see what was coming, and there would be less fuss and bother. At the moment, looking at Tyler Sandford, Jack regretted that reducing fuss and bother came at the expense of causing him less terror than if he saw it coming and reacted.

Espinosa coaxed Fiona to look more to the right, and she happily obliged just as twenty thousand volts of electricity struck home.

“They call this ‘riding the bull’ in Taser circles,” Dennis said gleefully.

“Really!” was all Maggie could think to say.

“Flex cuffs, guys!” Jack said.

The moment the couple was secure, Ted and Jack hoisted them up onto two tacky Queen Anne chairs covered with red-and-green-striped felt. Sandford seemed to be coming out of it quicker than his wife. He was groggy, but his words were sharp and clear. “Is this a home invasion? If it is, you are welcome to all this crap you see. The truth is, I’ll pay you to cart it off. I don’t keep money in the house. Take the car and leave us alone.”

“It’s not a home invasion, Mr. Sandford. We’re here to steal your life and all that money you have socked away around the world. We’re also here to make you pay for all those people out in Southeast. That’s number one. All we need from you are your passwords, and we’ll be on our way,” Abner explained.

Fiona had come around just in time to have heard her beloved husband telling the people they could take all her crap. “Crap!” she screeched. “Is that what you said? You ungrateful bastard! This is not crap, this is my life’s work. What else do I have? Nothing, that’s what. You’re saying my life’s work is crap, which means I’m crap! Well, we’ll just see about that.” She was almost up, bent on attacking her husband, when Ted shoved her back down none too gently onto the red-and-green-striped felt chair.

“You’ll get your turn, Mrs. Sandford,” Dennis said as he eyed all the junk in the family room. He turned away because it all made him dizzy.

Abner sat down on a candy-cane-patterned ottoman and opened his laptop. He flexed his fingers and started to type. He clicked on a button and a list of offshore accounts appeared as if by magic. He turned his laptop around and showed the screen to Sandford. “The passwords, please.” His tone was polite.

“Like I’m really going to give you my passwords. Get real, you clown. And don’t think you can scare me either.” Sandford turned to his wife. “Do not open your mouth, Fiona.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, you jackass.”

“We don’t have time for a family spat,” Jack said. “You can ream each other out later because, believe me, you are going to have nothing else to do. Now save yourselves a lot of trouble and tell us what we want to know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sandford blustered. I told you, I’m not telling you anything. Take my car and get out of here, and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

“Now that’s a lie if I ever heard one. We should forget the way you forgot about that poor family’s children who died because you wouldn’t fix the furnace in the building where they lived? Are you saying it’s okay for little kids to freeze to death? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Abner, show him the list of properties he owns.” Abner obliged, then swiveled the laptop around so Sandford could see the screen again.

“So I own a lot of buildings over in Southeast, so what? You can’t hold me responsible for what the property-management company does or doesn’t do. My hands are clean on all of that. No charges were ever brought against me.”

“Because you used your wealth to bribe people, threatened them and made promises you have no intention of keeping. Innocent children are dead because of you,” Jack said as he watched beads of sweat pool on Sandford’s forehead.

“I told you, I had nothing to do with those deaths. I hired a reputable management company to collect the rents and maintain the buildings. You want to blame someone, go after Lionel Marks and leave me and my wife alone.”

“We did that already!” Jack said, happiness ringing in his voice. “Would you like to talk to him? Dennis, call Luther and have him put Marks on the phone.

“By the way, Marks gave you up in a heartbeat. And, wait till you hear this, Mr. Sandford, he has—had—a single one-way ticket to Hong Kong. His flight, which, unfortunately, he is not going to make, leaves at five after six in the morning on December twenty-sixth. He’s truly heartbroken that he won’t be able to make it.”

“I told you not to trust that scumbag. He oils his hair. You can’t trust anyone who oils his hair. And he takes a bath in that shitty cologne he wears. I called him the other day, and he gave me the runaround. All he was worried about was that our tenants stripped his car to a shell. I warned him. I warned you, too, Tyler, and this is the outcome. I guess this is a stupid question, but why isn’t he going to make his flight?” Fiona asked. Her face was a mask of fear, and her eyes were full of tears as she stared at her husband.

“I told you to shut up, Fiona,” Sandford growled.

“And I told you don’t tell me what to do, Mr. Lieutenant Governor of the Commonwealth of Virginia.”

“No more bickering!” Harry Wong roared.

“You should listen to him,” Dennis said, “or he’ll pull your tongue through your nose and out your ears. He can do it, too.” He looked over at Harry, and whispered, “Did I get that right?” He handed the phone to Jack when Harry glared at him as if he were revealing state secrets.

Jack brought the phone up to his ear in time to hear Lionel Marks cursing him in every language in the book. “There are rats in here. They keep trying to eat my legs, there’s not enough light, and I’m freezing my ass off. Get me the hell out of here. I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll never say a word. I swear to God, I will never say a word. I’ll go out there and personally apologize to those people. I just did what Sandford and his wife told me to do. I’m their employee. Go after them! For God’s sake, get me out of here! I could die here from rat bites if I don’t freeze first. I’m begging you, whatever your name is.”