The Wager (19 page)

G
us pulled into a large RV campsite just ahead of Los Angeles. He waited until Malcolm and Tyler had pulled the motor home and the other cargo truck into adjoining campsites and switched off his ignition. Everyone spilled out onto Gus's picnic table as Tyler went to pay the camping fee this time. No one noticed Norm Dixon pull into an empty campsite at the other end of the large lot. He had spotted the convoy from the air that morning, managed to catch up to it by noon with a powerful rental car, and followed just out of sight for the rest of the day.

"Too bad I can't see what's happening over there from here. I'll just have to wait till they all go to sleep," he decided. "And this time, I've got the solution to those cursed dogs."

Keith Dixon fondled his latest detective toy. It was a stun gun, designed to knock out humans without harming them. Keith lowered the charge by adjusting a setting. He thought about the fury of the Afro-American woman who owned the Pitbull when he had stepped on her dog's throat.

"Don't want to kill the little darlings, just put them to sleep for a while. Don't want that women coming at me again."

One hour later, as the distant lights of Los Angeles refecting on the clouds illuminated the camp ground, Gus tied Bourbon to his usual position behind Tyler's truck with

Bea and Turk hidden inside. He tied Trump, this time, to the back of the truck he and Gloria were driving and allowed Cleo to enter the motor home to sleep beside Linda and Malcolm.

Norm Dixon waited until midnight to make his move.

"They'll all be asleep for sure by now," he thought.

The detective limped slowly but steadily through the park moving out of sight when any of the lights were on in the camping vehicles, positioned himself carefully above the parked convoy and glared at the Pitbull tied to the back door of one of the trucks. The dog looked like it had picked up his scent. It was growling and staring at him from the truck it was guarding. Norm placed the butt of the stun gun against his shoulder, fired the silent weapon and watched with a sense of satisfaction as the dog slumped to the ground, his red ball rolling out of his mouth as he hit the pavement.

"He'll be out for half an hour," the detective mused. Can't see that Doberman from here but I'll take care of her later if nothing is in this truck.

Norm moved confidently down to the back of Tyler's truck. Bourbon never moved. The detective smiled as he looked at the unconscious dog.

"Still breathing, I wouldn't want any trouble from his owner when she realises what I did to her dog."

Norm put down his stun gun. He moved to attack the padlock on the door with his bolt cutters. As he seized the padlock, a gust of wind moving in Trump's direction gave the already suspicious animal the scent of the large detective. The large Sheep Dog recognized the scent of his former adversary and went wild. He lunged as hard as he could and the leash attached to the back of the second vehicle snapped. The dog rushed in the direction of Norm Dixon's scent.

Norm dropped his bolt cutters as Trump's heavy breathing alerted him to his danger.

"God, it's not the Doberman," he thought as he turned and Trump knocked him to the ground. "Christ it's Malcolm Brook's Sheep Dog again." Sharp teeth bit into one of his arms as he desperately tried to crawl toward his stun gun. Norm's intense fear of dogs fired up even more and desperation gave him unusual strength. He managed to pull himself to his feet, dragged the sheep dog forward with his arm in its mouth, withstood the pain and grasped desperately at his stun gun. He fired the gun at Trump at close range with his one free arm and hand. The dog slumped to the ground next to Bourbon.

The detective's heart pounded fiercely as the lights in the motor home suddenly shot on.

"That damn dog and its barking!" Norm Dixon grabbed his stun gun and limped back to his car as fast as his heavy, damaged body would allow.

"Damn!" he cursed. As he reached his rental car Norm pulled the keys out of his pocket and jumped into the front seat. His arm as well as his foot and seat were burning from the dog bites. He sped out of the RV site and headed toward the freeway. Despair lit up the detective's heart.

"The Border," he muttered. "I'll have one more chance to intercept them at the Mexican Border. Maybe this time I'll use a real gun on those dogs."

Back at the campsite an anxious Linda Daniels was examining Bourbon and Trump as Gus and Tyler carried them into the motor home. They placed them on the table that Malcolm had recovered from him and Linda's bed. Honey Pratt looked on with great anxiety.

"I'm going to kill that cretin," she vowed.

"They're both breathing," Linda assured Honey and Malcolm.

"There are no marks on their bodies," she added.

"Likely used a stun gun," Malcolm figured out.

"The Bastard!" Honey exclaimed.

"You're likely right, Darling," Linda announced. "In that case they'll be all right. Should wake up in half an hour or so."

"We'll wait," Gus assured them.

"What about that intruder?"

"Won't be back anytime soon," Gus figured. "Likely that Detective again. Has to be sure Bea is with us before he notifies the authorities?"

"I'll kill him if he tries this again," Honey Pratt repeated, her arms around Bourbon.

"What about unconditional love?" Tyler reminded her.

"To Hell with unconditional love; should have killed the fat cretin the first time he stepped on Bourbon's throat."

Trump reached consciousness first. He whined anxiously and tried unsteadily to stand up. Malcolm grabbed him and held him tight. Linda noted that the man who was usually all business had tears of gratitude running down his face.

"Trump finally did something right for a change," Linda assured him. "His barks woke us and scared the fellow off."

Bourbon came back to consciousness several minutes later. He whined and then threw up all over the table. Linda quickly wiped up the mess and pressed a stethoscope to the dog's chest. Honey held him close and patted the weary Pit bull.

"I'll kill the bastard," Turk O'Brien vowed as Honey reported what had happened as an hour later as Tyler drove out of the RV park. Malcolm and Linda with Trump and Bourbon in the back bed followed in the motor home. Gus and Gloria were in the rear in the other cargo truck.

"He won't give up, I know he won't."

"We'll have to leave human sentries out tonight," Tyler

figured. "Bastard won't dare to use a stun gun on human beings."

"Hope you're right, Sugar."

Tyler pulled into an RV site just ahead of the Mexican Border later that night. Norm Dixon watched from the air with powerful binoculars as the convoy moved into the RV site.

"I'll intercept them in the morning," the determined detective vowed. "When they stop for Mexican insurance."

"Back to an airport?" inquired his pilot, now used to the detective's modus operandi.

Norm Dixon nodded.

"I'll check on what's in the back of the trucks when they go in for insurance tomorrow. It's my last chance."

"Good luck!"

"I'll keep watch," Tyler assured Gus and the others as they finished the meal that Gloria had managed. "I'll join you," Malcolm Brooks offered.

"Take Cleo with you, Darling."

"Too bad we don't have Dogzilla with us!" Honey muttered.

C
lose to dawn the next day Norm Dixon stood in nervous anticipation and considerable pain in a spot overlooking the cluster of Mexican insurance stores on the road to the Nogales Border crossing. His rear end was now too sore to sit for long on it. He was afraid it was infected again.

"They'll all have to go in to get Mexican insurance before they go over the border," he plotted to himself. "I'll follow and make my move when they go to buy it. I have to be certain Bea Broughton is with them before I contact U.S. border guards."

An hour later he spotted the convoy as it made its way to the border. The three vehicles pulled into the Mexican Insurance Sales parking lot just as he had expected. The detective pulled in just close enough to keep a watch on the occupants. He waited until they were safely into the store, picked up his stun gun and drew a package of raw meat out of the passenger side.

"Damn, they've left the dogs inside this time! But at least it's so early there's no one in the lot."

Norm headed to the cargo truck driven by Tyler Thompson. He frowned as he encountered the large padlock that Tyler had fastened to the back door. The detective quickly pulled a pair of bolt cutters out of his pocket and attacked the padlock.

Inferno started barking from inside the truck. Bea and Turk quickly moved into their places inside the coffins. Bourbon sniffed the air, detected the scent of his tormentor from the other times and started growling fiercely. Turk did not pull his lock down as Tyler had told him to do.

"Anyone that pulls this coffin open is going to get a surprise," he vowed. He pulled out the gun he had managed to obtain when Gus had stopped in the Walmart parking lot.

Norm Dixon flung the destroyed padlock to the side and pulled up the back door of the truck. Inferno and Bourbon came running at him and he threw the dogs both a chunk of raw meat. The dogs grabbed the meat and sat down on the floor to eat it. Norm quickly fired his stun gun at both the dogs. They slumped onto the floor. Norm's elation that his plan had worked turned to great disappointment as he glanced around the inside of the truck.

"Just coffins," he cursed. Then a couple of objects suddenly caught his eye. There were two empty coffee cups sitting in one of the corners of the truck.

"They're here," he muttered to himself. He pulled at the lid of one of the top coffins but it was locked.

"Damn." Norm reached for his bolt cutters again but he did not get the chance to use them. Bourbon was not completely unconscious. The dog shook his head trying desperately to get to his feet. The unsteady dog managed to reach the detective's right foot and seized it again. Norm screamed in pain as Bourbon reopened the wound. He tried to shake the enraged animal off but the dog pulled him toward the open door of the truck.

"No," he screamed as Bourbon bit even more deeply into his heel. The detective frantically threw his body toward the door. One more agonized push and both him and Bourbon

crashed out the door and onto the pavement. Norm's large body hit the concrete with considerable force and his pain was intense. He desperately tried to dislodge Bourbon. Norm screamed as the Pitbull seemed to regain more of his strength and started to drag him across the parking lot.

Inside the truck, the top of a coffin suddenly few open and Turk O'Brien leaped out. He jumped out of the truck, took one look and realised that the Detective was trying desperately to pull his revolver out of its holster with his one unbitten arm. He started to aim his own gun but thought better of it and hurled himself at the Detective. Before the gun in the holster could be pulled out and fired a sharp right from the enraged, former racing car driver connected solidly to the detective's jaw and knocked him unconscious. Norm Dixon lay ominously still on the ground.

Turk looked around. Miraculously there was still no one was in the parking lot and there was no one responding to the noise from the Insurance office. Turk thanked God that Tyler had parked so far away from the office.

"Let go Bourbon," he ordered, patting the dog and massaging him on his back.

"Good dog!" Bourbon spit out the detective's bleeding foot. Turk picked up the unconscious detective and staggered with the weight of the heavy fellow. He made it into the back of Tyler's truck. He whistled for Bourbon and the dog staggered in. Turk checked out Tyler's unconscious dog in the dog bed.

"He's still breathing, no thanks to that fellow."

Turk glanced out the rear door of the truck. Still, no one seemed to be watching. He put the door down and then reached for a package of tape from Tyler's tool box and taped the detective's mouth. He secured his arms to his sides and

tied up his legs. He ignored the blood seeping from the detective's foot. Turk lifted off the coffin he was supposed to be in and pulled open the door of the coffin below. He pulled a sharp screw driver from Tyler's tool box, forced a couple of holes in the coffin using his unusual strength and heaved the still unconscious detective's large bulk into it. He wound the sticky, plastic tape around and around the man. Norm Dixon now resembled an Egyptian mummy. Turk closed the top of the coffin.

"No way he's going to kick or bang with that around him," he decided.

"What's going on," Bea shouted through her coffin.

"Don't worry Sweetheart," Turk assured her. "It's that detective again. But Bourbon took care of the problem this time." He glanced at the Pit

bull who was looking rather unsteady but was still conscious.

"Must have developed a resistance to the stun gun," he figured. "Those Pitbulls are tough all right."

Turk picked up the detective's stun gun lying on the floor, removed the pistol out of his holder, put down the lid on the detective's coffin and climbed back into his own coffin taking the weapons along.

Twenty minutes later Tyler and the others came back to the vehicles and him, Malcolm and Gus moved into their driver's seats. No one spotted the missing lock on the cargo truck. Tyler moved out onto the road that led to the lineup for the border crossing and the others followed.

At the border the guard recognized Tyler who had made the trip across at Nogales many times. He did little but a cursory check of the ownership and insurance papers for both of Tyler's trucks, issued a one hundred, eighty-day permit,

looked at everyone's passport and motioned he and Malcolm through.

The guard was a little more thorough with Gus's ownership and insurance papers but made no attempt to inspect the inside of the vehicle. The convoy moved forward into Mexico.

About twelve miles later they were stopped again at the vehicle inspection station. Their permits and their Mexican insurance papers were examined and the guard requested that Tyler open the back doors of the two cargo trucks. Tyler freaked at the missing lock on his truck but said nothing. He opened the back and patted Inferno, who was now awake, and Bourbon as they came toward him. The animals gave no sign that anything was wrong and obeyed Tyler as he ordered them to sit. Tyler held his breath but the guards just stared at the coffins and then motioned him to close the door of the truck. The guards moved to Malcolm's truck but when the truck was opened one of the guards went inside and pulled up the lids of the top coffins. Seeing nothing he abandoned the search.

At Gus's motorhome the guards searched through the suitcases and had a look at the inside of the fridge and food cupboards. Then they nodded and indicated that the convoy was free to move on.

Tyler pulled out onto the road, followed by Malcolm and Gus and headed for his destination at Guadalajara. He barely got underway and there was a tapping noise on the window. Honey Pratt opened it and started at the expression on Turk O'Brien's face.

"What's the problem, Sugar?"

"You'll have to pull off the road, Tyler."

"Whatever for?"

"I'll show you. Make sure you pull off somewhere where there's no one to see us."

About twenty minutes later Tyler moved onto a dirt road heading out into the desert and drove along it for a few miles. He waited until Gus and Malcolm had pulled their rigs off the road and then went around to the back of the truck and lifted the door. The dogs greeted him joyously and Turk helped Bea out of the truck. He motioned the men to follow him inside.

Turk brought Gus, Tyler and Malcolm up to the top coffin on the right and opened it.

"Christ," Gus exclaimed. Malcolm gasped as they stared at what now looked like a large Egyptian mummy.

"What the Hell is he doing in there?"

"Bastard cut the lock off the back door when you guys went for insurance. Found him being chewed up by Bourbon and put him to sleep for a while."

The figure wrapped in the duct taped struggled to free itself and made choking noises from behind all the tape. Turk slammed the coffin shut.

"Better take off that tape around his mouth," Malcolm suggested. "He could choke if he throws up or something." Turk ignored him.

"Bastard shot the dogs with that stun gun again. Lucky Bourbon must have built up some resistance to the charge or maybe it was just sheer will power on his part!"

"Where is the stun gun?"

Turk pulled the weapon out of his coffin along with his own and the gun belonging to the detective.

"You took those over the border! We would have been put in the slammer for years if the border guards had found them."

"Give me the guns!" Tyler ordered.

Turk handed the guns to Tyler. Tyler took out a hammer from his tool chest and in a series of blows rendered the guns

useless. He wiped his finger prints from them and tossed them out into the desert behind a cactus tree.

Gus motioned the men out of the truck and far enough away that the detective could not hear them.

"What the Hell do we do now?"

"Leave him in the desert with the guns."

"We can't do that Turk! He might die out here."

The ladies came over and joined the men.

"Bea's told us what happened."

Malcolm Brooks suddenly took charge. He told the group that he would go and try and reason with the detective.

"Better take Turk with you," Tyler advised. "That fellow may not be in a reasoning mood."

Malcolm and Turk moved back inside the truck. Malcolm raised the lid of the coffin and told the detective to calm down, that they were going to let him out if he behaved himself. Muffed sounds were all they could make out. Malcolm reached for the tape around the fellow's mouth and pulled it off.

"I'll put you all in a Mexican jail forever," the large detective threatened.

"Quiet down," Turk ordered. He grabbed the detective around his throat.

"Let's be reasonable," Malcolm pleaded. "Or do you want us to drive off and leave you here with Turk?"

The detective looked at Turk O'Brien and the wild look in his eye.

"All right, it's a deal," he muttered.

Malcolm unwrapped the tape from around the detective and him and Turk pulled the fellow out of the coffin.

"Have a seat!" Malcolm motioned the detective to have a seat on Inferno's dog bed. The detective collapsed on the bed. He groaned as Malcolm looked at his foot, pulled a

handkerchief from his pocket and tried to stop the seeping of blood from his foot.

"Turk, you go and get Linda and the first aid kit out of the motorhome," Malcolm ordered.

"Shout if he does anything." Turk moved to the outside of the truck.

Malcolm asked the detective what it was going to take to make him forget what had happened.

"All we want is for you to look the other way." Malcolm's words seemed to throw the detective into a rage.

"Ain't never taken a bribe, never in my life."

The fellow's attitude infuriated Malcolm. He gave him a lecture about how unjust it was of Bea's son to have put her into the care home in the first place. He told the detective that there was absolutely nothing wrong with Bea's mind and that his team of lawyers would immediately notify the police where she was and seek to invalidate the "Power of Attorney" now that she was safe from being forcibly returned to the care home.

"Talk to Bea yourself. You'll see that her mind is perfectly intact. That's the least you can do. Look at all the trouble you've caused!"

Malcolm's lecture seemed to make an impact on the detective.

"My mother wound up in one of those places," he confided.

"Then you'll have a chat?"

Norm Dixon nodded and Malcolm moved toward the rear door of the truck. The detective managed to stand up, limped after him unsteadily and Malcolm helped him down to the road. He went over to the ladies and introduced Bea to the detective. Tyler restrained Honey as she glared at the detective.

"What's your name?" Bea asked politely.

Norm Dixon introduced himself and Bea suggested they go into the motorhome and get some bandages and water.

"Not without me," Turk O'Brien insisted.

The detective nodded and all three of them plus Linda went into the motorhome. The others waited anxiously in the shade of one of the trucks. Linda used her medical kit to bandage up and disinfect Norm Dixon's foot and other wounds. She had to make a series of stitches to close up the wounds.

"It will be all right," she assured him. "No permanent damages or scarring."

Thirty minutes later Norm Dixon said goodbye to his one hundred thousand dollars, his reputation and his licence. He could tell that Bea Broughton's mind was in better shape than his own. He held out his hand to her.

"Thought there was something funny about this case. It's obvious that you shouldn't be in a care home."

"Then you'll let us proceed to Guadalajara?"

"Sure but you might as well let me stay here in Mexico, I'll have to tell John Broughton what happened and where his mother is now. My detective's license will be revoked. I'm sure of it. Not to mention all the expenses I've run up."

"I'll cover your expenses," Turk O'Brien advised. "We'll drop you at the next large town. One with a car rental agency."

"Right, I won't have been in Mexico for more than seventy-two hours. They'll probably just let me go back. I've got my passport with me."