“Hey, this is a dangerous job. You have to be compensated.”
“OK, Bartholomew. Wait, can I call you Bart? Bartholomew just seems so grown.”
His eyes lit up as if it were Christmas morning. “Sure thing. I’ve never had a nickname. Pretty soon I’ll have a secret identity and—”
I had to stop him before he decided to leap buildings in a single bound. Bartholomew really needed friends his age. “Slow down, now. One thing at a time. Let’s stick with the nickname. So tell me, where does the money come from? I mean, we pay taxes; there’s insurance. This looks pretty legit.”
“Have you heard of the Boatman?”
I had no clue what he was talking about. I shook my head, and my miniature professor continued.
“Back in ancient times, people used to bury their dead with a coin in their mouth, so the ferryman would carry them to the afterlife. Over centuries, many forms of that ritual have evolved. Who do you think the ferrymen work for?”
I was in awe. “Really?” I was trying hard not to ask him if he was serious again.
Bart smiled. “Add a bunch of people dying to the power of compound interest, and you have one super-rich entity.” Lectures made Bart glow with information.
“So we are actually a real company?” That was insane.
“Money has always meant power. As long as you’re paying the appropriate Caesar of the times, have all your documents in order, and have a simple backstory, you’ll be surprised how the world looks the other way.”
I had pulled up to the Granary while Bart was talking. I was in shock. “I can see why most people don’t turn down the job.” I was actually surprised more people weren’t taking out interns for the position.
“Yeah. They normally read the manual the first day. The fringe benefits are pretty amazing. There’s a short history of the enterprise in the manual as well.”
Ouch. I was never going to live that one down.
We parked in front of the store, with an empty space on either side. It would be easier to load the minivan that way. Only two other vehicles were parked in front. I always wondered where the staff parked. For a Monday afternoon, the place was pretty empty. Fridays were usually a nightmare, since most of the workers from the army depot were off on Fridays and were running around town. I was so lost in my thoughts and celebrating having enough money to pay that I ran into a person.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” I had to look down, since I had run into a little girl. Bart had to peer around me.
“It’s all good, Ms. Isis.” The little girl was probably around ten or eleven, but next to Bart, she looked even younger. Or maybe Bart just looked mature for his age. Being raised by Death and a talking cat probably had that effect on kids. It took me a minute to remember her name.
“Hi, Dulce. What are you doing here alone?” We really didn’t need kids disappearing around here.
“Mom is inside. She said I could stay in the car, since it was so nice today. I got bored and was going to find her.” Dulce and her family were regulars at Abuelita’s. I was pretty sure they were among the human regulars. Dulce had a habit of being easily bored. I was amazed she had agreed to stay outside.
“That’s a good idea.” I stopped midsentence. Dulce was staring over my shoulder across the street. I turned to follow her gaze.
“Ms. Isis, I think someone is trying to rob that lady.”
I prayed Dulce was right. Unfortunately, that evil black van was parked on the other side. The same two guys who had taken Bob were pulling the girl in. This time I could see two girls in the front of the van.
“Dulce, head inside and stay with your mom. Bart, we have to go.”
Bart was already running back to the Whale. Dulce looked way too curious for her own good. I could relate to her. I gave her a look, and she headed inside. At least my sergeant’s glare was still working.
Bart and I jumped into the Whale. I was not planning to lose those fools again. By the time we got the Whale turned around and facing 82, the black van had taken off heading west. Fortunately, they were trying to blend in and were not speeding off. That didn’t last long. As soon as we started following them, they took off like bats out of hell. The speed limit in this part of town was forty-five, and they were going at least seventy. I gunned the Whale after them.
The black van made it to the intersection with a green light and took a sharp left, heading out of Wake Village and the 59 loop. I was driving like a madwoman, and I took the same turn just as fast, except my light was red. Horns were honked, and Bartholomew was holding on to his door handle for dear life. I finally understood the term “oh shit handle.” The black van kept left and headed to the loop. If we didn’t catch them soon, we would lose them again. We took the ramp faster than recommended by most manufacturers. The Whale skidded all the way to the left. At least we didn’t flip. I had no idea how their van was handling this so smoothly.
The Lord was on our side, since the loop was empty. We caught up with them, and I tried to cut them off to make them stop. OK, so I had no idea what we were going to do after we caught them. I just wanted them to stop. We were moving fast and had passed the Seventh Street exit when the crazy driver chick threw a ball out her window.
“Oh, shoot!” Bartholomew screamed and ducked in his seat.
The weird balloon
