“Get that thing away from me!“ Liz shrieked. She was shaking her ankle, but Spike was doing his best pit bull imitation and refused to be shaken off.
I saw this from behind the reception desk, where I was frantically scrabbling to find something I could use as a weapon. But when I saw Liz aiming her gun at Spike, I decided I had to act, weapon or no weapon. Although she was probably as likely to hit her own ankle as Spike, the odds were better that she'd miss both of them and plug poor Doc, who was struggling with a very angry George. So I vaulted back over the reception desk, grabbed Liz's wrist with my right hand, and began smacking her in the face with my bandaged left hand.
We teetered back and forth a few times until I managed to bang her wrist hard against the edge of the desk. I must have hit a nerve or something; her right hand went limp and the gun fell to the floor. She shrieked and tried to claw at my face with her nails, so I hit her in the stomach, hard. She half staggered and half fell backwards, into the closet.
She landed in the box that held the Affirmation Bears, several dozen of which squeaked various encouraging affirmations as she landed. At least most of them squeaked affirmations. Obviously the box contained a few that the guys had been tinkering with. As I grabbed the gun and pointed it toward Liz, one of the bears produced a prolonged belch, and another squeaked “Hehehehehe… wipeout!“ followed by a familiar riff of surf music.
“Don't move!“ I said. “Doc, are you all right?“
“That was wonderful,“ he said. “Risking your life to save your beloved dog!“
“Yeah, right,“ I said.
I risked a glance to where Doc was half sitting, half lying. George had found a new perch, on Doc's head. The excitement had obviously made George sick to his stomach again. And from the many small claw and beak wounds on Doc's face I deduced that George had been fairly insistent about reaching his new perch, and Doc seemed eager not to move any more than he could help.
“Nyuk-nyuk-nyuk!“ trilled a bear, alerting me to the possibility that Liz was on the move.
“Stay where you are!“ I said. “I have the gun, and I know how to use it, too.“
Which wasn't a lie. I may not have taken lessons, as Liz had, but I'd already figured out which end to point in her direction. If this species of gun had a safety latch of some sort, logically she'd already have taken it off while guarding me, so presumably if I pulled the trigger, bullets would emerge. Where they'd go was anybody's guess, of course. Unfortunately the odds were low that any of them would end up where I wanted them – in Liz's black, treacherous heart. Which was probably just as well; I might feel less bloodthirsty when the last hour or so was further in my past.
“Never put off till tomorrow what you can do today,“ a bear chirped.
“I'm not moving. They're just settling or something,“ Liz said hastily.
“Still, it's good advice,“ I said, stepping over Doc to get to the switchboard. Using my bandaged left hand, I managed to knock the receiver off the hook, snag the cord with my arm, and drop it down where Doc could grab it.
“I’ll dial 911,“ I said. “You talk to them.“
Once I was sure the police were on the way, I gave Doc the gun and told him to guard Liz for a couple of minutes. I left him sitting on the floor, clutching the gun with both hands and telling George, who was still perched on his head, what a good, brave buzzard he was. I went back to the library. Everyone looked up anxiously when I came in.
“Relax, folks,“ I said. “George and Spike saved the day, I've called the police, and Doc is keeping Liz out of mischief until they get here.“
I could tell if they hadn't all been gagged I'd have heard a collective sigh of relief. They all began squirming, each obviously hoping to catch my attention and get untied first. The room looked like my fifth-grade science project the day all the cocoons began hatching at once.
I played favorites and untied Michael first. He reacted the way you want the love of your We to react after a close brush with the grim reaper, and we briefly ignored the restless wiggling of the others.
“One of these days I will manage to rescue you, you know,“ he said finally, in a shaky voice.
“The way my life keeps going, I have no doubt of it,“ I said. “Go help Doc keep an eye on Liz.“
“Oh, God,“ Rob moaned when I took off his gag. “This is terrible.“
“Relax,“ I said. “The danger's over.“
“Yes, but think of the bad publicity we're going to get,“ he said.
I was momentarily stunned into silence. When had my happy-go-lucky brother begun worrying about publicity? But he looked so miserable that I took pity on him.
“Don't worry,“ I said. “It was a lawyer gone bad. Can't you see the headlines already: Real Life Lawyer from Hell Attacks Mutant Wizards CEO. Hit Game Comes to Life in Hostage Crisis. You couldn't buy better publicity if you spent millions.“
“You think?“ Rob asked, rubbing his wrists.
“Sales will go through the roof,“ I said. “Go untie Dad.“
I headed back to the reception room. Not that I didn't trust Michael to keep Liz neutralized. But Chief Burke had a very big “I told you so,“ coming, and the way I wanted to deliver it was to have him walk in to find me holding a gun on the real killer.
I never claimed to be subtle.
It was several more hours before Michael and I finally got back to the Cave.
“I could sleep for a week,“ I said, gazing fondly at the lumpy sofa bed and thinking how wonderful it was that I'd been too busy that morning to transform it into its sofa incarnation.
“We could fly back to California in the morning,“ Michael said. “Give me one good reason why we can't do that. In fact, give me one good reason why we can't just get back in the car and drive up to Dulles right now.“
“I'll give you three,“ I said. “One, I'm too tired to pack right now.“
“I could pack for you.“
“Two, I don't plan to wake up till tomorrow afternoon.“
“Yes; but what about tonight?“
“Three, we have better things to do tonight,“ I said, hitting the light switch.
“You're right,“ Michael said, a little later. “Tomorrow afternoon.“
“You've finished everything you need to do at Mutant Wizards,“ Michael said, finishing the last of his morning coffee.
“Just sit on the suitcase so I can close it.“
“Here, let me do it. You've proved Rob's suspicions were right, there was something fishy going on, and you've exposed the perpetrator, not to mention solving Ted's murder. I don't see why you need to go back there.“
“I just need to pick up a few things and delegate a few things,“ I said. “It won't take more than an hour, and we've got plenty of time. You booked the three P.M. flight, right?“
“Yes, but I was hoping we could drive by and take a look at our house before we left,“ he said.
“Our house?“
“Yes… I've got the house,“ Michael said.
“House? What house? Not the one with the five-and-a-half-foot ceilings?“
“No – Ted's house. Edwina Sprocket's house. Home of the attack moose. I was going to surprise you – after you told me about going there, I put in a bid on it – and I got a message yesterday afternoon that Mrs. Sprocket's heirs accepted.“
He was grinning from ear to ear, obviously waiting for me to shout with joy. All I could think of was the long string of zeroes at the end of the sale price.
“Michael, we can't afford Mrs. Sprocket's house,“ I said. “I know what they're asking, remember?“
“I got them to knock the price down,“ he said.
“Knock the price down? Every house that's been sold in Caerphilly over the last year has gone for fifty to one
