do is say so. Come into the van and we’ll talk about it. Your…uh, girlfriend can come too.” The defensive lineman planted himself behind Sam and Molly while the other slid the van’s door open.
“Look; I don’t know what you bozos are talking about!” Molly shouted. “My college roommate invited us to come to her party, and I read the directions wrong! This is where we were to meet, I thought…and now we are going to be late! Now if you don’t mind, I have to find a bathroom real quick, or I am going to ruin my new dress. Excuse me, Mister. Honey, are you coming?” Molly called over her shoulder as she scooted past a surprised linebacker.
Sam shrugged his shoulders and trotted after Molly, who was walking as fast as she could manage in her ill-fitting outfit. A second after they both hopped into her car parked a few houses away, Molly hit the gas and the car took off with a jolt before Sam had his door completely shut.
The minivan’s engine sputtered and coughed, then finally came to life, and its frame filled the rearview mirror of Molly’s car as she headed for the highway. A string of green traffic lights increased the distance between the two cars, but the last traffic light before the highway ramp was yellow. Molly floored it. The linebacker tried to do the same, but a river of cars flowed with the opposing green light, sufficiently separating Molly from the minivan as she merged onto the highway, heading north toward the historic port town of Wilmington.
“What were you thinking?” Sam shouted when they reached the highway.
“Apparently the same thing you were!” Molly shot back at him. “May their alternator fall apart just as they reach the bridge, and their tires fall off too—which may happen, curse or no curse!”
Deftly swerving between cars at a speed that would frighten most drivers, Molly exited the highway at the entrance to the permanently-docked USS North Carolina battleship. At the end of the road, past the last parking lot for the battleship-turned-museum, lay the river and a full view of Wilmington’s downtown waterfront on the opposing bank. Partially hidden under low-growing shrubs a few yards away was an old beat-up dinghy with chipped paint on its hull and a sack of clothes under a tarp. Kicking off her shoes, Molly ducked behind the bushes. She soon reemerged wearing jeans and a long gray cable knit turtleneck sweater. Molly quickly tucked her hair up under a blue Durham Bulls ball cap, shoved her other outfit in the dry sack, and pushed the boat out from under the bushes into the murky water.
“Coming?” she called to Sam as she jumped into the tender and took the oars in her hands.
Sam nearly missed the boat by leaping for it. He took an uneasy seat in the bow, incredulously watching Molly at the oars.
“What about your car?”
“Not mine.” Molly was so nonchalant that Sam was afraid to ask whose it was.
Chapter twenty-one
“Where are we going, Mol?”
“Well, I figure your boat is marked, but so far, nobody knows about mine…. At least, I don’t think they do.” Her stroke was strong and steady, her course straight. “My boat is around the wharf, just past the chemical plant. I figure we should go there to sort things out and think out our plan of action.”
“There you go again, we-ing all over the place. I told you I don’t need a partner. And just what were you planning on doing—walking into that place and taking the next customer who flashed the cash? You could get hurt bad trying that kind of act.”
“Oh, you’re just jealous because I could get in without paying to get some information. All I planned on doing was talking it up with the girls. Reneeta had arranged everything for me, but we had to make it look like I was just visiting, dressed proper for a visit with the girls, see, but not the visitors. Then you burst onto the scene and nearly get us hauled away to who knows where by two gorillas who think they know you! Man, if those are your friends, you might want to pick some new ones.”
“They weren’t friends; they were cops. And that house was their house. Those girls were their moneymakers. They thought I was cutting in on the action!”
“Lee was in deep over his head, and he didn’t even know it,” said Molly, voicing Sam’s thoughts.
“Um-hum. He had no idea