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or feel sorry for a boy driven nuts by a night of tension and violence.
And then, cutting through the hot, damp night air, came the sound of
screeching tires followed by a blaring rendition of Tequila .
Fatherday gestured to Agents Heard and Van Arsdale.
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Maybe you d better check that out.
The agents nodded and trot-squished out of the yard.
It began to rain again. No wind, no thunder or lightning, just a steady,
plopping rain.
Mr. Tracey, said Fatherday, With your permission, I think it would be a
good idea if we retired to the shelter of your patio.
Whatever.
Most of the group crowded onto the patio. Two of the agents maintained
their positions in the yard, patrolling in the rain.
Any idea what the youngster s talking about? Fatherday asked Davis
Tracey.
Got me, said Davis.
The sound of Tequila had died.
Paul came racing back around the corner of the house, guitar case in his
hands. He handed it to Ted.
Her name is Natalie, he whispered to Ted.
Ted nodded. Good name, he whispered back.
Paul turned to Fatherday.
I need to talk to you.
Fatherday followed the boy away from the assembly on the patio back out
in the yard. The rain had faded once again to the occasional plop mode.
But before they could begin their conference, through the gate came Bethie,
Ricky, Roberto, and Cesar, along with Agents Heard, who was shirtless, and
Van Arsdale, who was fully clothed. Bethie was wearing a man s shirt, which
explained Agent Heard s state of undress. Her eyes were wide, glazed over,
and didn t seem to be taking in a lot of reality at the moment. She looked like a
fish on ice. There was a bare patch on one side of her head that appeared for all
the world to have little wisps of smoke curling up off it.
That s her! shrieked Doreen. You bloody well ask her where it is!
We found her, said Agent Heard, his arms folded self-consciously across
his manly chest, in a car that these young men say belongs to them.
Me, clarified Ricky. It s my car. She stole it. An accusatory stab of the
finger at Bethie. She blinked.
Jerry or Ted could have corrected them on the true identity of the car thief
but thought better of it.
Has she got it? Fatherday asked the agents.
Nothing on her, answered Agent Van Arsdale, barely containing a smile,
or in the car.
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Give her the Miranda?
Yessir. But I m not so sure she understood. Probably have to do it again
once she comes around.
Fatherday looked at Bethie, who goggled back at him and then leaned over
and was sick.
Okay. Tell you what. Let s give Mr& He looked at Ricky.
Montoya, said Ricky. Ricardo Montoya.
Give Mr. Montoya a receipt for the impounding of his car so we can give it
a thorough going-over.
What! No! The Southwest Regionals are next week! I m barely going to
have time to clean it up if I start right now!
You ll be doing your country a great service, Mr. Montoya, said
Fatherday. Agent Heard will explain.
Oh man!
You don t need to keep his car, said Paul. I ve got what you want.
Yeah, he s got what you want, agreed Ricky, nodding vigorously in
agreement. What do you want?
And I think we should find a nice place for this young lady to spend the
remainder of the night. Fatherday gestured to Agent Johnson. Looks like she
could use a bit of recovery time before she can fully appreciate the
consequences of her actions. Agent Johnson nodded, waited until Bethie had
unbent, and kindly offered her his handkerchief, presumably with which to
wipe her face. Bethie accepted the handkerchief and draped it over her bald
spot. Agent Johnson escorted her back through the gate. Fatherday turned to
Ricky. Now, Mr. Montoya, I must ask you to excuse us for a moment.
But my car!
If I am satisfied that we will not need to impound your automobile this
evening you may be assured it will be returned to you. Agent Perry?
Agent Perry escorted the protesting Ricky, Roberto, and Cesar around the
side yard and out front.
Now. Fatherday returned his attention to Paul. You say it won t be
necessary to search the car?
I need to talk to you, said Paul. Privately.
All right.
The two of them retreated to a corner of the patio. Fatherday crouched
down a bit, hands on hips, to come face to face with Paul. He listened intently,
nodded once, twice, shook his head once, then nodded again. He said: If it s
okay with Mr. Hogwood, you ve got yourself a deal. Otherwise, we need to
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talk some more.
If what s okay with me? said Ted.
Paul has a proposition for you, Mr. Hogwood. Go ahead Paul.
Paul looked at Ted, who was looking in a very puzzled manner right back at
him. Ah, well, I just figured maybe I could help Mr. Fatherday get what he
wants and maybe help you get what you want.
But what he wants is the boomerang, said Ted. And we all saw it get
blown to bits out on the lake. What I want is money, lots of it, and I don t think
you can help me there, Paul.
Actually, he said he wanted what was inside the boomerang, said Paul.
Don t you think that if the boomerang was vaporized whatever was in it
was destroyed too?
Not if it was somewhere else when the lightning hit.
Somewhere else? Where?
In my room.
I don t understand.
The boomerang fell apart the first time I threw it. I hot-glued it back
together so I could play with it. But when it came apart I found something
inside. If that s what Mr. Fatherday wants then he says he ll help you get Sarah
back.
Sarah? How did you& ? Never mind. What are you waiting for? Go! Fly!
Bring it here!
I don t have to. I brought it here already. Paul indicated the guitar case.
What? In the case?
I ll tell you where. But first& Paul hesitated, unsure if he really dared
pursue this course of action. He went ahead. & I want to ask if you ll do me a
favor.
If it means I get Sarah back, you ve got it.
You mean it?
Paul, you get me my Sarah and I m indebted to you for life. Name your
price.
I want to you play for Korie at church tomorrow.
Ted s initial reaction was to object. Churches gave him the willies, and,
while he had survived the rehearsal the previous evening, the last time he had
been subjected to an actual service it had been one of the more excruciatingly
tedious experiences of his life. But if he couldn t stick out an hour among the
pews in order to rescue Sarah, then he didn t deserve her. Of course he would
do it. For Sarah he would walk on broken glass, he would brave howling
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wolves, he would read a romance novel. Yes, he would play for Korie, even if
it meant sitting through an entire church service. They weren t generally more
than an hour or so, were they? Paul said that was about right. Very well then, it
was a deal.
Not so fast, Mr. Hogwood, said Fatherday. That s only part of the
agreement. Tell him the rest, Paul.
The rest? said Ted, raising a suspicious eyebrow. Paul? What rest?
Ah, well, I was kind of hoping that, maybe you might& , the youngster
screwed up his courage and blurted it out. I want you to give me lessons!
Lessons? said Ted. But that would mean staying here,
No problem man, said Jerry. You can bunk with me. Plenty of room.
Shut up, said Ted. Walking on broken glass and reading romance novels
was one thing, making a home in the hottest city in creation was quite another,
especially if it meant sharing quarters with Jerry. He would be living in
constant fear of not only heat prostration but methane poisoning. Did his love
for a guitar, an object that was, after all, no more than a few pieces of wood
and some bits of metal stuck here and there, mean that much to him? It took a
moment for him to consider this and, only a moment though it may have been,
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