under stress for four days. Try twelve and a half years in the can,” Packy shot back.
Milo placed a mug of coffee in front of Opal. “Enjoy,” he whispered kindly.
“Now talk, Opal,” Packy demanded.
Opal had been silently debating how much information she should give him. If she told him that someone would surely come looking here for her, would they leave her or take her with them? She decided to stay close to the truth. “When I was cross-country skiing the other day, I saw a man in the yard here putting skis on the roof of the van. He seemed familiar. I couldn’t get it off my mind, and this morning I realized he reminded me of Benny so I decided to check the license plate. That’s it.”
“Benny strikes again,” Packy growled. “Who’d you tell?”
“No one. But the people I’m with are going to start wondering why I haven’t come back.” She decided not to say that the friends she was with included the head of the NYPD’s Major Case Squad, a licensed private investigator, and the best amateur detective on this side of the Atlantic.
Packy stared at her. “Turn on the television, Benny,” he ordered. There was a ten-inch set on the kitchen counter. “Let’s see if they’ve discovered the stump in the woods yet.”
His timing was perfect. The camera zoomed in on an agitated and furious Lem Pickens pointing at the stump on the ground and swearing that his neighbor Wayne Covel had done this to him. Packy picked up the machete on the table with Wayne’s name on it.
“Yup. He’s our guy,” Packy said flatly. “Benny, Jo-Jo, I need to speak to you inside.” He jerked his head toward Milo. “Keep an eye on her. Recite a poem or something.”
“Someone cut down the Rockefeller Center tree!” Opal exclaimed as the three of them filed into the living room and huddled in the corner, out of earshot.
Milo pointed to the living room. “They did. Can you believe it?”
“Jo-Jo,” Packy said, “did you get the sleeping pills for the flight back to Brazil?”
“Sure, Packy.”
“Where are they?”
“In my bag.”
“Bring me the bottle right now.”
Benny looked bothered. “Packy, I know we didn’t get any sleep last night. I know you’re nervous and upset. But I don’t think you should take a pill right now.”
“You are an idiot,” Packy said through clenched teeth.
Jo-Jo hurried upstairs and returned a moment later with the bottle of sleeping pills in his hand. He looked at Packy questioningly as he handed it to him.
“We gotta somehow get into Wayne Covel’s place and find the diamonds. Even if we tie her up, there’s a chance she could get away. Or if someone finds her here, she could talk. We gotta make sure she’s out of it until we board the plane and are well on our way. A couple of these will keep her quiet for at least eighteen hours.”
“I thought Milo was going to stay here.”
“He is. He’ll be sleeping right next to her.” Packy shook four pills out of the bottle.
“How are you going to make them swallow those babies?” Benny whispered.
“You pour Milo a fresh cup of coffee. Drop two of these into it and stir. He’ll drink it. I’m surprised he can sit still long enough to write a poem with all the coffee he inhales. I’ll be nice and fix another cup for Miss Moneybags. If she doesn’t drink it, we’ll move to Plan B.”
“What’s Plan B?”
“Shove it down her throat.”
Wordlessly, they all went back into the kitchen where Opal was giving Milo a laundry list of all the people who had lost money in the scam.
“One couple invested their retirement money,” she said. “And they had to sell their sweet little house in Florida. Now they’re supplementing their Social Security doing odd jobs. And then there was the woman who—”
“The woman who blah, blah, blah,” Packy interrupted. “It’s not my fault you were all so stupid. I’d like another cup of coffee.”
Milo jumped up.
“Don’t bother, Milo. I’ll pour it,”
Milo placed a mug of coffee in front of Opal. “Enjoy,” he whispered kindly.
“Now talk, Opal,” Packy demanded.
Opal had been silently debating how much information she should give him. If she told him that someone would surely come looking here for her, would they leave her or take her with them? She decided to stay close to the truth. “When I was cross-country skiing the other day, I saw a man in the yard here putting skis on the roof of the van. He seemed familiar. I couldn’t get it off my mind, and this morning I realized he reminded me of Benny so I decided to check the license plate. That’s it.”
“Benny strikes again,” Packy growled. “Who’d you tell?”
“No one. But the people I’m with are going to start wondering why I haven’t come back.” She decided not to say that the friends she was with included the head of the NYPD’s Major Case Squad, a licensed private investigator, and the best amateur detective on this side of the Atlantic.
Packy stared at her. “Turn on the television, Benny,” he ordered. There was a ten-inch set on the kitchen counter. “Let’s see if they’ve discovered the stump in the woods yet.”
His timing was perfect. The camera zoomed in on an agitated and furious Lem Pickens pointing at the stump on the ground and swearing that his neighbor Wayne Covel had done this to him. Packy picked up the machete on the table with Wayne’s name on it.
“Yup. He’s our guy,” Packy said flatly. “Benny, Jo-Jo, I need to speak to you inside.” He jerked his head toward Milo. “Keep an eye on her. Recite a poem or something.”
“Someone cut down the Rockefeller Center tree!” Opal exclaimed as the three of them filed into the living room and huddled in the corner, out of earshot.
Milo pointed to the living room. “They did. Can you believe it?”
“Jo-Jo,” Packy said, “did you get the sleeping pills for the flight back to Brazil?”
“Sure, Packy.”
“Where are they?”
“In my bag.”
“Bring me the bottle right now.”
Benny looked bothered. “Packy, I know we didn’t get any sleep last night. I know you’re nervous and upset. But I don’t think you should take a pill right now.”
“You are an idiot,” Packy said through clenched teeth.
Jo-Jo hurried upstairs and returned a moment later with the bottle of sleeping pills in his hand. He looked at Packy questioningly as he handed it to him.
“We gotta somehow get into Wayne Covel’s place and find the diamonds. Even if we tie her up, there’s a chance she could get away. Or if someone finds her here, she could talk. We gotta make sure she’s out of it until we board the plane and are well on our way. A couple of these will keep her quiet for at least eighteen hours.”
“I thought Milo was going to stay here.”
“He is. He’ll be sleeping right next to her.” Packy shook four pills out of the bottle.
“How are you going to make them swallow those babies?” Benny whispered.
“You pour Milo a fresh cup of coffee. Drop two of these into it and stir. He’ll drink it. I’m surprised he can sit still long enough to write a poem with all the coffee he inhales. I’ll be nice and fix another cup for Miss Moneybags. If she doesn’t drink it, we’ll move to Plan B.”
“What’s Plan B?”
“Shove it down her throat.”
Wordlessly, they all went back into the kitchen where Opal was giving Milo a laundry list of all the people who had lost money in the scam.
“One couple invested their retirement money,” she said. “And they had to sell their sweet little house in Florida. Now they’re supplementing their Social Security doing odd jobs. And then there was the woman who—”
“The woman who blah, blah, blah,” Packy interrupted. “It’s not my fault you were all so stupid. I’d like another cup of coffee.”
Milo jumped up.
“Don’t bother, Milo. I’ll pour it,”
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