Part 14 (1/2)

Lyle shook it, then Charlie.

”That's it?” Lyle said.

”That's it.”

”Ay, yo, you kidnapped them!” Charlie said.

”Technically, yes. Does that bother you?”

”No, but the cops, the FBI-”

”Won't ever hear about this. Those people never saw me, and they don't know their car is parked in your garage.” Jack rubbed his hands together. Time to learn a little about the Kenton brothers. ”So, the question now is, what do you want to do to them? We can break their arms, break their legs, break their heads...”

He watched their expressions, was glad for the revulsion reflected there.

”Oh, man,” Lyle said. ”This afternoon I wanted blood. I wanted to kill them. Now...”

”Yeah,” Jack said. ”They are kind of pathetic looking. Personally I prefer messing with heads to breaking them.”

”Mess with their heads,” Charlie said, looking relieved. ”Yeah, I'm down with that. Sound like the way to go.”

Lyle nodded. ”Fine with me. How?”

”First off, some rules. Only I speak in their presence, and I'll sound like Colonel Klink. Not a word out of you two because they might know your voices. We don't want them connecting you with this, right?”

They both nodded.

”Good. That settled, the first thing we'll do is take them out of the car, lay them on the floor, strip search them-”

”Yo. Rewind there. Strip 'em?”

”Right. I think a little humiliation will be good for the souls of a couple of attempted murderers, don't you? Plus, it'll keep them cowed; nothing makes you feel more vulnerable and helpless than being without your clothes. On top of all that, it'll scare the h.e.l.l out of them, wondering if we've got some twisted s.e.xual plans for them.”

”But we don't, right?” Charlie said with a pleading look.

”You kidding?” Jack said. ”You got a look at them. Having them lying around naked will be lots tougher on us than them.”

”And after that?” Lyle said.

”We comb through their clothes, their wallets and pocketbooks, the glove compartment, learn everything we can about them, then decide how you guys get even.”

Jack noticed their reluctant expressions. Like true scam artists, they didn't like getting physical.

”If it makes you too uncomfortable, I can do it alone. But things'll move much faster if I have some help.”

Lyle glanced at Charlie, then sighed. ”Lead the way.”

10.

Twenty minutes later they were back in the kitchen.

Jack dumped the man's wallet, the woman's pocketbook, and the contents of the glove compartment onto the table, then began sorting through them.

Lyle had this dazed expression. He'd looked that way since they found a .32 caliber pistol in the trunk's now-empty spare tire well.

”Those two people,” he muttered. ”They want me dead.”

”What gives you that idea?” Jack said. ”Just because they shot at you, tried to burn down your house, and run you down with their car?”

”This isn't funny.”

Jack looked up from the car registration and driver licenses he'd collected. He had to lighten this guy up.

”d.a.m.n right it's not funny. Especially cutting their clothes off.” He cringed at the memory of the woman's pale, squat, flabby body. ”I had to keep mentally dressing her.”

Finally a smile from Lyle. This was one major stiff.

”Okay,” Jack said. ”From what I can gather here, we're dealing with a married couple, Carl and Elizabeth Foster.”

Lyle pulled a stack of business cards from the purse and shuffled through them. ”I'll be d.a.m.ned!”

”Not if I can help it,” Charlie said.

If Lyle heard, he didn't acknowledge the remark. ”She's Madame Pomerol! I've heard of her. She was on Letterman.”

Jack rarely watched talk shows. ”She's big time?”

”Pretty much. Upper East Side. I hear she's been hot the past few years. Her name's popped up quite a bit from my sitters-a lot lot of them used to be Pomerol regulars.” of them used to be Pomerol regulars.”

”There you go,” Jack said. ”You know who, and now you know why.”

”They Upper East Side?” Charlie said. ”How come they got such a hooptie ride?”

Jack was about to explain that it was a city thing, but Lyle cut him off.

”The b.i.t.c.h!” he muttered, still staring at Madame Pomerol's business card. ”She tried to kill me!”

”The husband was driving the car that just missed you, don't forget,” Jack told him. ”Looks like a joint effort to me.”