The Final Shortcut (21 page)

“Do you think there’s a problem?”

“I got that odd feeling that something’s going to happen, something bad.” Fudd was standing at a large plate glass window overlooking a steep hillside, his hands clasped behind his back. “It’s the kind of feeling you get when some one close dumps on you.”

For the first time in several hours Taipei looked up from his laptop, pushed his glasses up and stared at his companion. “I would say that you look scared but I’ve never seen you scared before, so I don’t know if this is that look.”

“Very funny, I just mean it’s an odd feeling that I can’t explain.” Fudd turned and looked out the window. “I’m not scared; I just think we should look after our contacts.”

“As in, take care of, if need be?” Taipei leaned back in his chair and removed his glasses. “Anybody in particular?”

“Faruk comes to mind, he’d sell out his grandmother to stay out of jail.”

“Could be the Feds will take most of Kitty City’s residents as a bonus prize when the hammer comes down.” Tai rubbed his eyes feeling the burn of his time on the computer. “Anybody else?”

Fudd turned and faced Taipei, “What do mean? Who were you thinking of?”

“You said it felt like some one close, you might’ve had a Freudian moment.”

He walked away from the window and stopped next to Taipei’s chair, “Maybe we should take a closer look at our friends at the ranch as well. Some times old bros get greedy and do stupid things.” Taipei looked up and nodded slightly.

“My sentiments exactly. One of the bad things about using stupid thugs is they wear out so fast.”

“You know, what ever is wrong with you goes very deep.” Fudd grinned and walked toward the bar and Taipei returned to his computer.

***

By the time Wheezer and Tree reached Bontonville it was nearly twelve o’clock. With a lazy hand signal Tree motioned for them to pull to the side and promptly pulled up to a liquor store. Crazy Mary jumped off before he could put out the kickstand and trotted in after a bottle of liquor. Wheezer pulled along side and cut off his bike, waiting for Tree to say something. “Mary and I are going over to her cousin’s for a couple hours, and you get to go find the Express Overnight Delivery office. Drago’s waiting for a package that’s supposed to be here by three. You don’t mind going to wait for it do you?” Tree smiled the kind of smile he had when he was ready for a fight.

“Any idea where it is?”

“On the far side of town, I've never been there myself. Is that a problem?”

“Oh no! I can’t think of anything I’d like better.” Wheezer wanted to ruffle the big guy just enough to make it believable, but he was anxious to get away from them for a while.

“Don’t get lost.” Wheezer didn’t answer the last remark. He just started his bike and rode off giving Tree a harsh glance before leaving. A glance that quickly turned into a smile, he couldn’t believe the sudden twist of fate that put him in Bontonville at the right time for his contact. It was still two hours away but there was every likelihood that his contact would be there already, there was no such thing as a set schedule in the service.

And he wasn’t let down, just five minutes after parking his bike he was approached by a gray haired man with a dog. “I would have come over sooner but the dog was afraid you might bite.” Agent Palmer sat down on the bench with Wheezer, “You weren’t easy to ID, and you look a sight.”

“Well I’ll be dogged, I didn’t recognize you either Rick.”

“I can barely see you under that hair and all that beard, doesn’t it itch?” Rick scratched his own chin in mocking. “Yes it does, but I’m beginning to think I don’t need it any more. I believe my cover is blown.”

“Uh oh, we can pull you out right now Ray.” Ricks mood changed immediately, “Where’s your constant companions now?”

“They dropped me off to fetch a package, one that doesn’t exist I’m sure. But I’m not sure if they want me to come back.” Agent Hitchcock leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Every since they met up with Fudd, their general mood has changed, and I can see it in their eyes when they look at me.”

“Well then you need to fly, don’t take any chances. You haven’t really turned up much anyway.”

“I know, but I can feel it, I’m close I know it.” Ray sat back and took a deep breath, “I want to go to that big flea market in Elberton this weekend. Most of the merchandise we’ve recovered came from these sales.”

Rick studied Rays’ face before answering, “Are you going to stay with the Wanderers?”

“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. But I’ve got a car and all my spy gear in storage right here in Bontonville.” Ray smiled and gave Rick a wink, “I always have an escape route planned wherever I am.”

“Well, that’s why you’re one of the best. Here you might need these after all.” Rick unbuttoned his shirt and handed Ray a folder. “There’s been another hijacking same as the others, now you see it, now you don’t, all the details are in there. So you’re going to doll up and go shopping?”

“Yes, a shave and a haircut, some old man clothes and a touch of gray and I’m Dad. If I don’t find anything then I won’t have any reason to stick around.” Ray stuffed the folder under his jacket and stood up. “Tell Jenkins I’ll be in touch with him soon, my cell phone is in my car. I didn’t feel safe carrying it at the ranch.”

“Right, too easy for someone to pick it up and see who you’ve called. I never carry one when I’m undercover. Are you sure they won’t recognize you later?” Rick got up and extended his hand to Ray. “No way, I’ll stay in Elberton until after the sale and see how it goes from there.”

“Be careful Ray.” They shook hands and Rick just nodded his head, then he turned and walked away. Now was the time to be careful indeed, if they did suspect that he was undercover then he could be in great danger. The sooner he changed his appearance the better. Everything he needed was in the car, and once he got there Wheezer would not be seen again. When he left the storage building he would be a middle aged balding man in a tan Volvo, he even had colored contacts to make his eyes brown.

The sale was in two days, plenty of time to rest and eat. Plenty of time to nose around the market site during the real business, before the sale. Many vendors would make the trek only to sell out in bulk to another vendor without ever setting up shop. He loved the carnival atmosphere, loved to act like a big spender and make vane offers. By nightfall he would be 138 miles away in a comfortable bed, and tonight for the first time in weeks, he would get a good nights sleep.

Chapter 14

A three-mile long flat bottom valley was the sole reason Elberton was on the map. An otherwise desolate stretch of road except three times a year when it hosted a mile-long flea market and swap meet. Buyers and sellers by the hundreds flocked to the grand event knowing that what couldn’t be bought, could be traded or bartered for. One end of the valley was set aside for the swap meet and the opposite end held the flea market. Over the years the city managers realized that two separate sites, one for a family flea market and another for a much more liberal swap meet, would keep the peace better than a peace officer. Vendors started arriving Wednesday for the weekend long event and by late afternoon Thursday, campsites and hotel rooms were getting scarce.

Junior had the foresight to make reservations for a campsite, but he wouldn’t be camping. A lot of wheeling and dealing went on in this particular campground and many other sites as well. Buyers scouted the valley looking to make a slick deal. Anything of re-sellable value was traded openly. This was the way Junior liked to do business. He was carrying a pick-up load of his spoils, old and new, and he would take a little time to find a good price and sell it all. VCRS, clothes, toys and twenty-six items from InTroniKa that he knew would fetch a good price. Once he sold out he could catch a few hours sleep in his truck and spend all day Friday shopping.

Main Street Elberton was only four blocks long. And at the exact center of town, on opposing sides of the street, were two luxurious bed and breakfasts. Agent Ramone Hitchcock had a corner room with a view at the Hampton House. A bit overpriced but he was certain he wouldn’t run into any of the Wanderers here. He would dine in his room tonight and after sundown he would go to work. There was a long list of items in a twenty-year long file of everything attributed to this case. The most recent was a load of toys, clothes, bikes and house wares headed for K-mart. But the full list had industrial items as well as retail goods, and a decided majority of electronics. The file was also stuffed with notes and letters from all the investigators that had ever worked the case. There was a general consensus that the hijackings had been random in nature and that they must be exporting the evidence to Mexico or elsewhere. Therefore it was assumed that there was a gang involved, one that had extensive connections. But in the last several years that train of thought had netted the feds zero leads, only supposition. Ray began to think that he needed to try a different direction To think of the unobvious answer. He sat staring out of the window while finishing dinner, a map from the case file open in front of him. There had to be another answer.

In the back of his mind he began to ponder the possibilities that it had to be a much smaller operation, maybe even a single perp. However unlikely it was the only other M. O. that hadn’t been explored. Over the next two hours he tried to create a plausible scenario involving one person. In order to look for clues he had to have an idea of how the crimes could be committed. Working well past dark he almost forgot to take a tour of the pre-sale activities. It was almost ten p.m. when he parked along the road and began to walk through the market grounds. The traffic was at a near stop with pick-ups and semis all jockeying into their allotted spaces. Buying and selling was going on everywhere. Ray, with a list in his head, scanned every load with care. It was like looking for a pizza in Chinatown, but he had to give it every effort. If this didn’t bring out any new evidence then his part of the investigation was over.

Across the grounds, next to the swap meet tables, Junior was displaying his load and waiting on the right price. The clothes and other goods went quickly, for the going rate. But he was playing the crowd for a bigger deal on the high-tech InTroniKa goodies. He’d had a few offers but he wanted to wait, the later it got the more crowded it got. The InTroniKa laptops were a big draw, and he had five. Most of the other goods were accessories, very expensive accessories that everyone wanted. Mostly game controllers and fancy trackballs, but there were a few items on the cutting edge that he knew wouldn’t appeal to just anyone. At nearly midnight a van pulled up and an excited teenager jumped out with his father in tow. It was easy to see that the teen was educating the elder as to the value. And by their hushed tones, Junior could tell he was about to get an offer.

“How many pieces of this have you got?” The normal civilities of business were cast aside in this environment. Nobody exchanged names or cared where any of it came from, as long as the price was right.

“Twenty-six, are you interested?”

“Could be. My son tells me this is all great stuff. Mind if I look at the rest of it?” His denim coveralls and burly beard gave the impression of a simple country gent, but Junior was not to be fooled. Most of the buyers dressed down hoping to get a better price.

“Are you a fan of computers?”

“My son is, he’s taking a computer course. He says he’s going to drag me into the modern age. What is this?” Junior didn’t want to piece out his load but for the right amount he would do it one piece at a time.

“That is a digital artist’s draw pad, very new.”

The younger son whispered to the father and they looked at the rest of the load with much scrutiny. Finally after a couple long moments of whispering and poking around the father approached him with an offer. “Give you thirty-five hundred for these pieces here. I don’t want the artist palette or that designer thing.”

“Four thousand.” Junior was glad that his night was almost over but he had to haggle just a bit.

“Thirty-six.”

“Thirty-eight. No less.” After a brief glance at each other the elder put out his hand to Junior.

“Done.” they shook hands and without a word the son began to load the swag while Dad pulled out his wallet. In less than two minutes the van was pulling away and Junior was counting his money. Now it was time for a few hours sleep before a big day tomorrow.

All through the valley the campfires twinkled into the night, the activity slowed dramatically during the early morning hours. The brief lull was the only chance for the vendors to rest. For by the predawn light the customers would begin to arrive. Only two secondary roads led to Elberton. And before seven A.M. the traffic was already at a standstill. Anyone with property was renting parking spaces and there were at least five farm tractors with trailers serving as a shuttle service for pedestrians. The air was filled with the smell of popcorn, Polish sausage, cotton candy and beer. TVS, cosmetics, cell phones, candles, hardware and virtually anything small enough to fit in a pick-up was available and cheap. During the day the sales were primarily centered on the flea market side, but as the sun went down the crowd on the swap meet side would increase greatly. An undulating mass of people passed shoulder to shoulder in an unending blur going every direction at once.

Ray worked his way through the crowd trying to hit as many booths as possible, quickly glancing at each table in an organized search. The festival went on until Sunday afternoon and he had divided the area into three sections. He hoped to hit every table at the festival but he knew the odds were against it. Still he searched diligently and carefully, not wanting to appear too curious. By lunchtime it was time to rest, his feet already aching. It was a warm day and most of the patrons had stripped down to tee shirts and tank tops. He was looking for a place to sit down when he saw Crazy Mary tottering away from a blooming onion wagon. Having no other leads to follow he fell in behind her hoping for a break. His disguise was good enough that he only had to act casual and he could get very close to her. It wasn’t very far before she caught up with Tree, Reverend and Cochise. The rest were probably here as well. They walked slowly along stopping only when Mary wanted to check out something. Ray managed to keep searching as he followed and after a bit he developed a pattern that allowed him to pass them and eavesdrop. He heard enough to know that the others were certainly there and they were really just killing time until the parties later. When they stopped at a beer wagon, Ray got in line right behind them.