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At this late hour the car wash was closed to customers, but it seemed to
open for El Tiburon and the Piranhas. An older man stood behind the food
counter, but all the car wash attendants were gone. El Tiburon was clearly
in charge. He lounged in the only easy chair, with the Piranhas and their
girlfriends all around him. He talked and they all listened.
Except one girl. She got up and went to buy something at the counter. El
Tiburon pointed a long finger and shouted loud enough for Bob and Jupiter
to hear at the Taco Bell.
Get back here, chick! No groceries when we talk business. You got that,
Owner?
At the food counter the older man shrugged and shook his head at the
girl. She whirled around and snapped out something to Tiburon. Instantly
Tiburon was up and beside her. He grabbed her arm. One of the guys who
wasn t a Piranha jumped up and pulled Tiburon s hand away.
Everyone froze inside the car-wash lounge.
Tiburon reached out and held the other guy s shirt. The guy knocked
Tiburon s hand away. Tiburon hit him with a hard right. The girl s defender
staggered but came back with a wild left of his own and then a right-hand
punch. Tiburon ducked the left, blocked the right, and knocked the other
guy down with a single powerful punch. This time the guy didn t try to get
up.
Tiburon said something and laughed. Everyone laughed. Except the girl
who had defied Tiburon. She bent down over her fallen champion. Tiburon
strode back to his easy chair and started to talk again as if nothing had
happened.
Jupiter and Bob watched from their table at the Taco Bell.
He acts more like a gang leader than a band-leader, Bob said.
Yes, Jupiter agreed. He seems to be both. As if the band is part
of a larger gang. I think The leader of the Investigators stopped in
mid-sentence.
A car had pulled into the car wash. A man got out and motioned toward
the lounge.
30
Follow That Shark!
It s Joe Torres! Jupiter exclaimed.
Inside the lounge Tiburon stood up, said something to a Piranha, and
hurried outside to meet Torres. They stood talking in the shadows for some
time as the rest of the gang waited inside.
Torres was lying! Bob cried. He definitely does know Tiburon. I ll
bet he was the one the stolen car was really supposed to be delivered to.
Tiburon just made up the story about his brother.
Maybe and maybe not, Jupiter said. Torres was lying about not
knowing Tiburon, but that doesn t make the rest true, Bob. I mean, maybe
Torres was protecting Tiburon, but doesn t know anything about the stolen
cars. Or Tiburon did what Ty says up in Oxnard, but was only being used.
Maybe Tiburon had no idea the car was stolen.
So how do we find out?
We have to know more, Jupiter said. We ll watch awhile longer.
It s getting late, Bob said. If Sax gets back from L.A. tonight, I might
have to work tomorrow.
We ve got to find out if Tiburon knew the car was stolen, or if he didn t,
who told him to get Ty to drive it down to Torres s bodega.
Jupe! Bob said suddenly.
Tiburon had gone back inside the lounge, and Joe Torres was heading
straight for the Taco Bell!
He ll recognize me! Jupiter said, panic-stricken.
He looked for a place to hide. There was nowhere!
The Taco Bell was all but deserted now, the few remaining patrons widely
scattered among the bare tables. The parking lot was well lighted and almost
empty. The long counter inside the hacienda-like building had no customers.
Quick! Bob said. Kneel down!
Jupiter knelt down on the floor beside their bench-less table. Bob took off
his denim jacket and sat on Jupiter s back, using it like a bench! He draped
his jacket over his knees as if his legs were cold. Then he leaned casually
back against the table in the dim light, munching the last of his second taco.
Bob looked innocently at Torres as the scrawny Latino went by. He hoped
the bodega owner wouldn t notice that there was no bench on either side of
the hidden Jupiter. But Torres barely glanced at Bob as he walked past him
to the counter.
Jupiter s voice was muffled. For a skinny runt you weigh a ton. Can I
get up?
He s still at the counter. He could look this way again any second. Better
stay down.
Jupiter groaned.
Bob laughed silently. You make a pretty good bench. Nice and soft.
31
Follow That Shark!
You wait! Jupiter s muffled voice fumed. Bob gave Jupiter a gentle
poke in the ribs. There was a strangled explosion as Jupiter fought to stay
silent. Bob stopped teasing him as Torres got his burrito and came back past
them on his way to the car wash and his car. This time the thin, dark Latino
didn t even glance at Bob.
Okay, he s gone, Bob said, standing up.
Jupiter got to his feet, holding his back and hanging on to the table until
he could straighten up. He glared at Bob, and then smiled.
That was fast thinking, he admitted. But we d better get out of here.
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