We never made it to Lubbock. Somewhere along about Emporia Billy had a rather severe brain cramp, flipped us around and dropped us at home. He took off with Ryan someplace, and even though I have heard nothing about unexplained detonations that does not mean that there were none. I rapidly forgot to be worried about Billy and Ryan being on the loose together, because other things came along to draw my attention.
It was Sam. He always seemed to know where I'd been and when I'd been there. He knew which way I took home from work, how long it took me in the supermarket and when I tended to go. I drove to Duluth - Sam asked me how I had enjoyed the lake. I took the boys to the local amusement park on a Saturday afternoon - Sam asked if it was anything like Six Flags Over Mid-America and wanted to know why I didn't stay to ride the roller coaster since I seemed to like cheap thrills. More than that - he knew way too much about me, personally. I colored my hair - he asked me why I chose the shade I did since it wasn't natural. He suggested that I spring for a computer desk since my situation wasn't good - his actual word was bullshit. He wanted to know why the hell I bothered with the Vikings when a real football team played at Soldier Field, and he advised me to doctor my spaghetti sauce if I was going to insist on the canned garbage.
Beth was having similar experiences with him, and we wasted a lot of time and effort bashing it back and forth trying to figure out what he had up his sleeve. Beth said repeatedly that she could put Billy on it and have an answer before dark, but the Unruly Boy was finally starting to settle down and that state of affairs was just too pleasant to jeopardize. Then she called me. She sounded upset.
Deb: Geez, I'm not in the book, either, Beth. How'd you get my number? In other words, what would get you so upset that you'd feel like you needed to call? Beth: You don't think Bill needs directory assistance, do you? Deb: No, I don't guess he does at that. What's up with you? Beth: It's like this...Bill was under my car... Deb: He does your repair work? The man is an absolute wonder. Beth: Bill? You've got to be kidding me. He crawls around underneath it when he's bored. Anyway, he found something that he calls a GPS transmitter. From what seemed like a distance, I heard Billy. He sounded pretty whipped up. Billy: Global positioning satellite, pipsqueak. Beth: I know what it means. Shut up. Billy: Tell her to get under that shitbox Ford of hers! Beth: I'm getting to that. Shut up. Billy: Tell her now! Beth: I will. Shut up! Billy: Don't tell me to shut up, baby. Beth: Sorry, I forgot. Shut up. Deb: What does he say I should do? Beth: He says you need to look at the underside of your car. They probably planted one there, too. Can you believe Sam's been tracking us? How low can you get? Deb: Check your little friend, there. Beth: I have my answer. Deb: What I don't understand is how he knows so much about what goes on in our lives. I mean, he can track us all he wants, I don't imagine either one of us goes anyplace that wouldn't get the Good Housekeeping seal of approval. Unless you've been to Billy's recently. Beth: Oh, no. Sam won't get to him through me. I haven't even been over there lately. Hey, fool, what are you doing now? Get your dirty boots off my couch!! I heard Billy again. He was, if anything, more torqued up. Billy: Pipe down. I'm busy. Beth: Oh, you're busy, all right! Get down from there, you barbarian! Billy: Busier'n a one-legged man in an ass kickin' contest. Leave me alone, you. If you ain't smart enough to figure out how he knows what he knows, I am. Deb: What's he up to now? Beth: No good, as usual. He's stomping all over my furniture with his nasty old boots. But I know what you mean. Scared me half to death when Sam mentioned that I shouldn't let Billy drink straight out of the milk carton. I didn't know he even bothered with milk, let alone with a glass. I'm almost afraid to find out how much he knows. Billy: Fibre optic cameras! Son of a bitch! Beth: What did you say?? Deb: Oh, Lord. Billy: Place is filthy with 'em! Watch this, you tricky little bastard! Beth: He's flipping one of my plants the bird. Deb: I guess I'd better take a look around. I'll call you back. Beth: Yeah...don't worry about the cost. Billy'll make sure it gets charged to Sam's office account or something. Talk to you later. After I hung up, I called One and Two outside to help me examine the car. I backed it out of the garage and put it up on ramps so they could get under it and look at the frame. Two struck paydirt. #2: There's a little box on the frame. Has a light on it. Deb: Where is it? Will I be able to get at it easily? #2: Reach under and gank it right off. Should I get it? Deb: No, leave it right where it is. #2: You gonna go jack him? Deb: Jack who? #2: Sam? You gonna jack him up? Deb: I'd love to try but, you know what? #2: What? Deb: Beth calls him the federal bicep. I don't think I'd be jacking too much, in the end. One had gone back into the house, and he was the one who found the first camera. A tiny hole had been drilled through a storage cabinet in the bathroom. The cabling was attached to the wall inside it. Another line ran through the wall and came out over the top of my bedroom closet door. Other, separate assemblies were hidden in closets or cupboards and covered the kitchen, dining room and living room. It must have been easy for them, I thought. The bathroom camera was the one that horrified the boys. #1: Is that thng on all the time? Deb: I suppose so. #1: You mean they've seen my jimmy??? The offspring were outraged at the thought that government eyes had seen them showering, popping zits and taking care of other duties. I was, too, but I kept it under control. We began ripping the cameras down. When it had all been removed and flung into the back seat, I called Beth's house. Billy: You find it? Deb: I certainly did. Now I'm gonna drag it all down to Chicago and stick it right in a certain civil servant's ear. Billy: Yeah! Billy was mocking me, but I was too angry to care. Deb: I can take a lot from Sam, but this is ridiculous! Billy: Yeah! Deb: You've violated my civil rights once too often, Sammy! Billy: Rock on! Deb: God knows what he might have seen! How dare he do that to us! Billy: Yeah! Deb: Get a grip there, Marv Albert. Where's Beth? Billy: Dunno. She shot out of here like her head was on fire and her ass was catchin'. She was mutterin', but I didn't catch it. Deb: She was doing better than me, I've been yelling since we found the junk. I'm leaving in the morning. Billy: We'll meetcha there, outside the Federal Building. I'm not gonna miss this. Deb: I might need the support. Will you fly? Billy: I want my own wheels. We'll take off when she gets back. I headed out early, in a state of high irritation, and got to Chicago a couple of hours sooner than I'd expected to. This was good, since I promptly got lost. When I finally managed to locate the Federal Building, Billy and Beth were waiting there. Beth looked wrung out and nervous, Billy's color was high and I could just about guess that he was ready for a fight. I was every bit as nervous as Beth, but I didn't expect her to help me with Sam. Dealing with Bill was enough to ask of anyone. Billy: You ready to rock? Deb: As I'll ever be. Beth, you okay? Beth: Fine, great, wonderful ,excellent, perfect, what do you think?? We're here to read Sam Gerard the riot act. I'm scared out of my mind! Billy: Wussy. Deb: Can it, fool. Just go with me, Beth. I'll do the yelling. That way he won't get mad at you. Beth: You sure you don't mind? Deb: No, I don't mind. He can't get away with this. Billy: She'll be there, leave 'er to me. C'mon, I know where we can get a stuffed pizza that'll knock you on your cans - all four of 'em. Beth: Not hungry. Deb: Me neither. Billy: I could eat a horse, dammit, and I ain't goin' for no Chinese shit. Besides, the Dawg's got his face in his bowl, you can count on it. Beth: Maybe not. You know - stay on the trail. Eat next month. Billy: Hah! It's lunchtime. I'm eating. You're goin' with me. You want his ass in that chair when you get there, don't you? Deb: That's the general idea. Beth: We'd better go with him. He's getting ready to sulk, and that is not a pretty sight. Deb: I'll take your advice. Lead on, MacDuff. Billy got his stuffed pizza. Beth and I watched him eat. I worked on getting myself cranked back up on the walk back to the Federal Building. I would need a good head of steam. Beth was resolute but determined to maintain her vow of silence, while Billy was just about rubbing his hands together in anticipation. As we passed the Suburban, I glanced down at the license plates. It paid to be observant. Deb: Michigan? Billy: You change your haircolor, I change my plates. Deb: Did I say anything? Billy: You're learning. Let's go! C'mon, Beth, ya wanna live forever! I reached under my car and yanked the little box off. Next I gathered up all the fibre optic cables from the back seat. Billy was pulling a similar load out of the Suburban. I carried my own trash, while Billy carted Beth's for her. As I stalked through the lobby, grimly determined to have it out with Sam, I began to hear Wilma Flintstone's mad theme in my head. The Marshal's office was full of the usual compliment of earnest young law enforcement types racing around with badges on their belts and guns stuffed down the backs of their pants. I started to feel righteously pissed again. Beth: He's in his office. Deb: Good. Hold this crap. I jammed the cabling on top of what Billy was already carrying. Billy: What do I look like, a damn pack horse? Beth elbowed him sharply, but all she got was a grin in response. He was loving this large. Cosmo saw us and jumped up from his desk to race across the office and intercept. Cosmo: What are you doing here? Sam's... Deb: Out of my way, little man. Billy: Damn! I think these are yours, skipper. Billy piled all the optics into Cosmo's arms. I stormed on into Sam's office and slammed the GPS unit down onto his desk. Sam was busy looking at a file and didn't even jump, let alone look up at me. Deb: Just what the hell's the meaning of that, Deputy Marshal Gerard??! Billy: Ooh, she's a pistol. Sam closed his file slowly, took his time squaring up the edges, set it aside very precisely. Sam: About time you got here. Deb: Explain that! And that! I gestured at Cosmo's arms. Billy: Better start talkin, Deputy Dawg. Hell hath no fury, and all the rest of that happy crap. Sam: Beth, Darlin', come on in. Sit down. Beth stood, unmoving, enraptured by the gentle voice Sam was directing at her. A little voice of my own was telling me to do a quick fade, but it seemed late for that. Sam was unhurried and he approached Beth as though he had all the time in the world. Billy goosed Beth hard - she leaped straight into the air and made sure she came down hard on Billy's booted foot. Billy was grinning hugely. It must have been just about the best joke he'd seen since the Missouri. Sam: Cosmo, go get Beth a chair, what's the matter with you? Cosmo fetched a chair. Sam gently installed Beth in it. Billy took his place behind her, leaning on the back of the chair. Next Sam came to where I stood, trying to continue to seethe but becoming rapidly convinced it would be a mistake. He positioned his office chair behind me, then stepped around and put his hands on my shoulders. I felt his thumbs, rubbing gently along my collarbone. Sam: As for you, young lady, I understand you have some concerns about how I use some of the equipment I have at my disposal, so why don't you just SIT DOWN and we can talk about it. On the words 'sit down' I was launched into the chair with such force that my teeth rattled. All the fight went out of me. Instantly. Deb: Okay. Billy: Wussy. Sam: Now, ladies, what's on your mind? Deb: Why the boxes?...the cameras?... Beth: You don't need to spy on us, Sam... Deb: We've told you the truth... Beth: We know better than to lie... Billy: You better know it. Beth: Cameras in the bathroom? Deb: My boys are traumatized... Billy: Turn off the bullshit before we both drown in it. Always wanted to say that. Sam: Deb, I think you broke my box. Deb: I didn't mean to. I just wanted to...you know...get your attention... Billy: I know I broke your damn box, Sunny Jim. Billy removed the case from his pocket and tossed it on the desk. It broke apart. Billy followed that with the guts of the box, and ended up with the magnet that had held the box to the autoframe. He must have pried that off just to be difficult. Sam: Thanks, Strannix. You get a gimme. Billy: Won't chap my ass. Sam: Beth, stay here. Cosmo, see that Strannix and Deb find the door. Now. TO BE CONTINUED...
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