Sky and the Hijackers

Fiction by Frank Knebel

Chapter 10

“I certainly appreciate what you did for my nieces,” May Vinson said to Sky. “But wasn’t helping them extremely dangerous with your wife in their hands?”

     After taking a day to recover and move some of his considerable haul of prisoners to State police lockups, Sheriff Winchell had called an afternoon meeting of the parties most interested in the case. Seated in a rough circle along the walls of his office, they included Sky, Julie and Copper Ryder, Karen and Jill Irons and their aunt, May Vinson, Professor Stanton, Lieutenant Conway and Sergeant Boyer of the State police, and Deputies Harry Tyler, Amy Cole, and Al MacKeever.

     Julie, seated next to Sky, reached over to take her husband’s hand.

     “Of course there was danger, Mrs. Vinson,” said Julie. “But tricking them didn’t put me in any more danger than I was already in. We had no assurance that the gang would keep the promise they had given to release me if Sky cooperated. And Sky actually did keep his word by leaving the Hummingbird on the ground for the day.”

     “You can’t rely on the good faith of hijackers, kidnappers and murderers, Mrs. Vinson,” said Winchell.

     “Murderers!” the woman gasped.

     “That gang, or someone in it, tried to kill your nieces and me last week,” Copper put in firmly. “We were left bound and gagged and helpless in a closed garage with a truck engine running.”

     May Vinson turned to her nieces with wide-eyed astonishment.

     “You told me nothing of this, Karen!”

     Karen looked sheepish.

     “We didn’t want to worry you, Aunt May. You’d have run all the way over from Lake Havasu City for no real reason.”

     “I suppose that we’re fortunate that those ruffians couldn’t fit a truck into Shirley’s shop to try to dispose of us. Well, that redoubles my determination to see that the girls are well protected.”

     “You mean that you’re not going to try to convince us to give up and sell the business?” asked Karen.

     “Certainly not,” the trim matron declared. “We’re going to see this through. Then we’re going to see that this gang is brought to justice! And I hope the legal system is a good deal more severe with them than it was with my ex-husband.”

     There was a good deal of laughter at this remark. Mrs. Vinson seemed surprised enough at the response and her own vehemence to smile slightly.

     “But, Sheriff,” said Jill Irons, “you and the State police almost wiped out the part of the gang that tried to take our trucks. Do you think they would ever try again?”

     “We took eight of them into custody on Tuesday, and four of them were wounded,” the Sheriff said. “I’d think that would be a pretty heavy blow to any gang.” He stroked his mustache thoughtfully. “But I can’t say what this bunch will do.”

     “We weren’t able to learn much about the gang from the men we questioned,” said Lieutenant Conway. “Most of them had been hired in the past few days and have no idea who the real leader is or if there’s any larger motive behind the hijackings.”

     “That’s why we thought that Professor Stanton might be able to help us at this meeting,” added Winchell.

     The Professor appeared startled by the idea.

     “Of course, I’ll be glad to help in any way I can, but I don’t see how.”

     “Winch and I have been wondering if you or one of your parties might be the real target,” said Sky. “Maybe you could tell us a bit about your work and how things are going.”

     The archaeologist shook his head wonderingly.

     “This is the third year we’ve been searching for artifacts of a minor Indian civilization that flourished in this area around the year 1000 A. D. They were hardly as wealthy or prominent as the kingdoms of the Mayas, or the Incas or the Mexica.”

     “The who?” asked Copper.

     “The Mexica are generally called the Aztecs,” said Sky.

     “Quite right, Mr. Ryder,” said the professor with a series of nods. “Though of course you’re probably aware that the name Aztec was given in an inaccurate guess about their origins. Quite right.”

     Harry Tyler leaned forward.

     “Is it possible that someone thinks this tribe was rich, say in gold or silver, and wants to drive your people out to dig for it themselves?”

     “Oh, I hardly think so, Mr. Tyler. As I said, these people were not wealthy, as were the larger tribes I mentioned. The success of their civilization was based in agriculture and trade. When the climate changed and became much drier, somewhere around the year 1200, they either died out or were forced to move. We’re interested in their pottery and other artifacts, their cave and rock paintings, and clues to the social structure.”

     Conway shook his head.

     “Why would someone want to stop you from doing work of that kind?”

     “I have no idea. Especially since our work had not been very fruitful until this year. In fact, Dr. Folger, Dr. Fields and I all came out this summer expecting it to be our last field work in the area. Our contract for rights to the material we find expires in September, and there seemed no point in renewing it.”

     “Which would mean the end of your contract with us as well,” said Karen.

     “And also hurt Martha Winthrop,” added Jill, “since her store supplies a lot of the food we bring to you.”

     “Oh, but results have been much more promising so far this season,” Stanton added brightly. “In fact, we’ve recommended to the head of our department, the dean of the college and the president of the university that the contracts with the owners of the land be renewed for two more years. And that would mean that we’ll need your services for the next two seasons.”

     “I don’t get it,” said MacKeever. “I don’t see how there’d be any more motive in taking over the rights to recover Indian artifacts that have no commercial value than there is in driving Karen and Jill out of business.”

     Sky gave Winchell a significant look.

     “Well, what we’ve gone over today is a start,” the tall rancher said. “Our immediate problem is protecting the next shipment to Dr. Folger’s party tomorrow.”

     “We figure that the gang’s been hurt pretty hard,” said Winchell. “With so many men lost, they probably won’t be able to mount a serious effort against the trucks this time. And Sky will be back in the air for this one, so we should be pretty safe.”

     After a brief discussion of security procedures, the meeting was broken up. Within a few minutes only Sky, Julie and Copper remained with Winchell.

     “I saw the look, Sky,” said Winchell. “You got an idea during the meeting. What is it?”

     “I have a couple of ideas, Winch. I think I may know what’s going on here, but I need a couple of detectives to help me out.”

     He looked at Julie and Copper. Both women eagerly raised their hands to volunteer.

“Honestly, Jill,” said Martha Winthrop, “I don’t know how you two girls do it! If I were in your shoes, I’d be just scared to death. Where you two find the courage to keep going is just a mystery to me.”

     Martha sat on the edge of Jill’s desk in the Irons sisters’ office. Jill was slowly typing a letter using the ‘hunt-and-peck’ system. Out in the loading dock they could hear the voices of Karen and Don Henderson as they checked and adjusted the load for the next day’s delivery to Dr. Folger’s party.

     “Well, it sure isn’t anything inborn,” said Jill as she struck a key. “Darn!”

     She picked up an eraser and tried to rub out her mistake.

     “I hope I’m not distracting you, dear,” said Martha.

     “You’re no problem,” said Jill. She blew and brushed away the dust the erasure had made. “I just wish I’d taken typing in school instead of so many art classes.” She looked up at the older woman. “You know, you don’t have to wait for your copy of the invoice. I can bring it over to you when Don and Karen are done.”

     “Nonsense! Why make you go out in the hot sun for a little thing like that? There’s not much business for me in the heat of the day, so I might as well wait.”

     Jill went back to her painstaking task.

     “Well, as I was saying,” Martha continued, “I get pretty worried about you two trying to fight these hijackers all alone.”

     Jill glanced up at her with a smile.

     “As I remember, you’ve shared some of the danger with us.”

     Martha waved dismissively.

     “They can’t scare a tough old bird like me by tying me up a couple times.”

     “Well, you’re braver than I am. I’m scared most of the time. Karen too. If the Sheriff and Mr. Ryder weren’t doing all the things they are, I’d have given up. Thank goodness they’ve got a good plan for tomorrow.”

     As they waited, Jill outlined the plan for protecting the next day’s shipment.

Laughton and Rowlands stood, hats in hands, before the desk in Paul Watling’s study, like two naughty schoolboys called in to the principal. After admitting them to the room, he had continued writing notes and signing papers as he passed them from a pile in one corner of his desk to another pile in the opposite corner. Finally all the papers were transferred to one stack. With an irritated glance at the two men, Watling picked up the papers and straightened them, aligning all the edges and corners perfectly before he spoke.

     “Well, gentlemen, we did not achieve a very satisfactory result from our last little effort, did we? I say ‘we’ only in the loosest sense, for I believe that you two were in charge of the operation. Eight more men lost for absolutely no gain.”

     Laughton gave Watling a surly look.

     “We tried, and it was a good try. We were just outmaneuvered.”

     Watling’s lips drew into a sneer.

     “But not so outmaneuvered that either of you was taken by the police, eh?”

     Rowlands simply shrugged.

     “Having us arrested too wouldn’t have helped the results any. We were lucky that they didn’t bag everyone, including the women. I don’t think you’d have liked that.”

     “Of course not. But perhaps you should explain again the virtue of simplicity.”

     “Listen,” said Rowlands with more heat, “if an ambush by ten armed men couldn’t stop those trucks, maybe you can suggest something better. The problem is that we’ve completely lost any element of surprise here, and there’s no way to get it back. Now that they know we’re trying to stop the trucks, they can come up with a hundred ways to protect them.”

     “Rowlands is right,” said Laughton. “We stopped them from using that plane to protect the trucks so they just came up with another way.”

     Watling stood up and walked around the desk. Rowlands pulled up a chair and sat down, Laughton following his example. Watling sat lightly on the edge of the desk.

     “Well, what do you suggest now?” Watling asked. “There’s another shipment of supplies going out to Dr. Folger tomorrow. Will you try to stop it with twenty men this time and hope they don’t have thirty men guarding it?”

     Rowlands shook his head.

     “We figure that they’ll know we can’t replace our losses that quickly, so they’ll probably go back to having Ryder watching the trucks from the air. So we’ll try another stealth and misdirection plan this time. That is, if you want us to try again.”

     “Time is running very short, gentlemen. My sources at the University tell me that Professor Stanton has asked for a two-year continuation of the project. That would be disastrous for us. You must succeed in making any continuation of this work impossible.”

     Laughton and Rowlands exchanged a look. Rowlands nodded to the other man. Laughton leaned forward.

     “We know what security measures they’re going to take, so this is what we plan to do...”

Bradford ambled to the open door of the garage office and looked inside. Mary La Rocque was seated at a small table applying lipstick with the aid of her compact mirror. She wore a lightweight gray skirt and white top ensemble that showed off her figure quite well. Bradford knocked lightly on the doorframe. The woman looked up.

     “You wanted to see me?” asked Bradford.

     “Yes, I did, Bradford. Come on in and close the door.” When he had done so, she continued: “You’re a good friend of Rowlands, aren’t you?”

     “We’ve known each other a long time.”

     She nodded.

     “And you’d like to help him, wouldn’t you? I mean, if there was something you could do to keep him out of trouble, you’d do it if you could.”

     “Anything within reason,” the man replied warily.

     The right corner of her mouth raised a little.

     “There’s no need to be so careful, Bradford. This isn’t a trick or a trap. You know that your friend has it bad for that cute little deputy, don’t you? And I can’t believe that you’re happy about it.”

     Bradford shrugged.

     “I don’t blame him in a way. She’s real easy on the eyes. But she’s a cop, and I can’t see anything good coming of it.”

     “Right. And you’re worried that she might affect his judgment on tomorrow’s job.”

     Bradford said nothing.

     “Well, I think I’ve come up with a way to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

     “How?”

     She folded the mirror shut on her compact.

     “If he doesn’t see her, there’s no danger of him doing anything foolish, is there?”

     “I guess not, but I’m no hired killer if that’s what you’ve got in mind.”

     “It’s nothing like that. The girls and I are going to do a little early work tomorrow to make sure she stays out of the way. We need you and one other man to help us. Interested?”

Amy Cole, her long, dark hair tucked neatly under a plastic shower cap, finished soaping the front of her body and stepped back into the spray of the shower to rinse off. She let the shower do the work, savoring the sensation of the warm water on her bare skin. She thought idly that a warm shower was one of the few sensual pleasures she had enjoyed on a regular basis since becoming a deputy nearly four years ago. It was rather odd, Amy thought further, that in light of the several young men and several sexual experiences she had had in two years spent at college, that she should now feel so fondly about showering. And she was mildly surprised that the pleasant, sensual feeling made her thoughts turn to Harry Tyler.

     Sue Kendall’s warning that Harry was crazy for her had not been a quarter of the surprise Amy had pretended it was. Of course, Amy knew that most of the male deputies, including the married ones, thought that she was attractive and desirable. She had noticed some of them staring at her lost in daydreams, and had supposed she knew at least part of the content of those reveries. But in her heart, she had always known that it went deeper with Harry. The real surprise was the fear she had felt for him when she learned that he and Andy were to lead the convoy into the hijackers’ trap. And she remembered how, when it was all over, he had run back to her as she got out of the cab of the truck, grabbed and hugged her, asking if she were all right, then kissed her lightly. He had seemed embarrassed about it later.

     And she remembered his little joke about rescuing her every so often, untying her and helping her get dressed. Amy looked down at the washcloth in her hand. Hesitantly, and after reminding herself that she was safe in her own apartment, she folded it into a band, slipped her hands behind her back, and wrapped the band around her wrists, though she had to hold it in place. She shivered with pleasure and held the pose for a moment before letting go of the cloth and going back to concentrating on rinsing.

     In reaching up to wipe some soap from the area of her collarbone, her right forearm brushed across her right nipple. She was surprised at how hard it was. She knew that the reaction was not caused solely by the refreshing warmth and sensual feel of the water.

     She turned off the water, stepped from the combination tub/shower and reached for one of the large towels hanging on the rack. After drying herself, she wrapped the towel around herself sarong style and removed the showercap. She started to unpin her hair, wondering if she should have washed it.

     “Well all refreshed now, I hope,” said a woman’s voice.

     Amy turned in astonishment to see the blonde leader of the hijacker gang’s women standing in the bathroom doorway pointing a small automatic pistol directly at her. Two more women, both brunettes appeared one either side behind her.

     “You!” Amy exclaimed. “How did you---“

     “Sorry, dear,” said the blonde. “No time for chatting just now. We’ve got to hurry things along. Come on out so we can get started.”

     Amy followed the woman’s gestures with the pistol, coming out of the bathroom with her hands raised. The woman kept motioning her to the bedroom. She and the other two women followed her inside. Amy had left a clean uniform folded on the foot of the bed with clean underwear on top. Now there were a number of ropes on the bed as well, some laid out folded, some coiled.

     “I think you know how this goes, Deputy,” said the blonde. “Turn around and hands behind you.”

     “I suppose there’s no point in asking what you’re going to do with me,” said Amy, trying to remain cool. “You want my uniform, I’ll bet.”

     The taller brunette tied Amy’s wrists, hands palm-to-palm then made a cinch. The other brunette, who was about the same height as Amy and of very similar build, circled around in front of the deputy wadding a piece of white cloth into a ball. Amy looked directly at her.

     “And this woman’s going to take my uniform and pretend to be me while I’m actually bound and gagged in my own bedroom. Right?”

     The brunette raised the wadded cloth to Amy’s face. The helpless woman opened her mouth and let her attacker pack the balled fabric in her mouth.

     “Well, not exactly,” said the blonde. “We’ve got a little adventure for you this time. There’s nothing to worry too much about. We’re just going to keep you out of the way for a few hours, but your apartment isn’t a good place to do it. Just bear with us while we get you ready.”

     The short brunette passed a band of cloth between Amy’s jaws and around her head. When the other brunette finished tying Amy’s hands, she took the ends of the cloth strip and tied them securely behind the Deputy’s neck. The short brunette opened a roll of adhesive tape and pressed several strips over Amy’s mouth to seal the gag.

     The blonde stowed the pistol in her handbag and, with a sardonic smile on one side of her mouth, stepped around in front of the now bound and gagged Amy. She took the top of the wrapped sarong, just above Amy’s breasts, and pulled it loose. The helpless woman watched silently as the towel fell away. Though she made no noise, she flushed slightly pink as she stood naked before the three women.

     “And I really meant bare with us, Deputy,” the blonde said. The two brunettes giggled. “Let’s get a move on, girls.”

     The two women worked like a well-drilled team in passing ropes around Amy’s arms and body in several places. In less than three minutes, the beautiful Deputy’s arms were completely pinned against her back and sides.

     “Do her feet and legs while I get the men,” ordered the blonde.

     The tall brunette pushed on Amy’s shoulder as an order to sit on the bed. The shorter woman bound and cinched Amy’s ankles side by side while the taller tied her legs just above the knees.

     “Very nice, wouldn’t you say?” the short woman asked her partner.

     The taller brunette cradled Amy’s left breast in her hand.

     “Positively delicious!” she cooed to Amy. “I love a girl who’s all tied up. Just ask Lisa” --- she nodded toward the shorter woman --- “how much fun you can have like this!”

     Amy mewed indignantly into the gag and tried to pull away from the woman’s touch. The blonde returned leading two men. The first man Amy recognized as Bradford. He was carrying the end handle of an old-fashioned steamer trunk. An equally large man with a surly expression, dark-haired both on his head and in his permanent five o’clock shadow held the other end.

     “Put it down boys,” said the blonde.

     They placed the trunk beside Amy’s bed and Bradford opened the lid. A thick, soft blanket lined the bottom and the lower sides. Amy, seeing what was to come, protested into the gag and shook her head.

     “Don’t worry, Deputy,” said the blonde. “It’s not a very long ride. It’s a nice big trunk and you’re such a petite little thing it shouldn’t be too bad.”

     “I drilled a few holes in it to make sure you get enough air,” said Bradford. His face wore the same impassive expression Amy remembered, but something in his voice told her he was trying to be comforting.

     She nodded. The blonde took a banded scarf from her purse and bound it over Amy’s eyes. The two men picked her up, Bradford by the shoulders, the other man by the feet, and put her into the trunk. There was enough room for her to remain in a semi-seated position. The blonde leaned close to the prisoner.

     “I hope there’s no need to warn you about trying to make a lot of noise, Deputy. Because if you do, the boys might just drop this trunk down a couple flights of stairs. Understand?”

     The bound woman nodded. The blonde closed the lid and the men latched it.

     Mary La Rocque looked at Bradford.

     “You know where to take her?”

     “Yeah, I know.”

     “Well, get on with it. The girls and I have work to do.”

     Bradford and Reeves picked up the trunk. Jean opened the door of Amy’s apartment, and they took the trunk into the hall and down the stairs. Mary and the women followed them.

Copper Ryder sat at the breakfast table listening to the radio on the counter across the room. Her head lay cradled in her left hand supported by her elbow. A spoonful of Grape-Nuts was in her right hand suspended halfway between the bowl and her chin. Her eyes were half-closed as she dreamily mouthed the words as Pat Boone crooned soulfully about writing love letters in the sand. When the song ended, the girl sighed in perfect bliss.

     Sky and Julie appeared just as the disc jockey started the time and weather report. Copper quickly stuffed the cereal into her mouth and chewed in a vigorous and businesslike way.

     “Good morning, Copper,” said Julie with a smile. She wore a crisp white blouse and dark Capri slacks. “That young man certainly knows how to do a ballad, doesn’t he?”

     Copper swallowed.

     “Who do you mean?” she asked in well-feigned surprise.

     “Why Pat Boone of course,” said Sky. “That tune that was just on has had girls all across the country sighing for him for months now.”

     “Song? I’m sorry. I wasn’t really paying attention.”

     Sky grinned at Julie, and she giggled as Copper hastily finished her cereal.

     “All ready for today?” Sky asked Copper as she took the bowl to the sink and rinsed it.

     Copper nodded.

     “Aren’t you two going to have breakfast?” she asked. “It’s sure to be a big day.”

     “We already had it and cleaned up,” said Julie. “Old soldiers and sailors rise early you know.”

     “And you know what to do?” Sky asked Copper.

     She nodded vigorously.

     “I’m all set. I fly the Hummingbird to Lake Havasu City and get the information you want from the Hall of Records there. Then I fly back to the Kermit airport and fuel up so we can keep watch on the shipment to Dr. Folger’s camp this afternoon.”

     “Right.” He turned to Julie.

     “And I’m going to take my car into Kermit and keep my eyes on the other person you’re so interested in,” she said. “And when the trucks leave the Irons sisters’ office, I’m to run interference.”

     Sky raised a qualifying index finger.

     “Only minor interference, nothing that will make anyone too suspicious or put you in danger. We can’t be running around town rescuing you several times a week.”

     “I’ll be careful,” she promised.

     “See that you do,” he said.

     He leaned over and kissed her lightly. They looked into each other’s eyes and kissed again.

     “Newlyweds!” groaned Copper in mock disgust.

     * * * * *

     “Who’s goin fer the plane?” Strothers squeaked anxiously. “I cain’t see who it is. Is it Ryder?”

     Monroe lowered the field glasses for a moment.

     “No. It’s his niece. It looks like she’s taking off alone.” He raised the eyepieces to his eyes again and twisted the central focusing drive back and forth.

     “Maybe Ryder’ll come out in a minute,” suggested Strothers.

     Monroe kept watching. The propellers of the plane began to turn and a moment later the sound of the engines starting reached them in their vantage point on a hilltop across the road. Monroe lowered the binoculars again.

     “There’s somethin’ screwy goin’ on over there,” he said.

     “What?”

     “Look for yourself.” Monroe handed the glasses to his partner.

     Strothers trained the glasses on the ranch house and readjusted the focus. He saw Sky and Julie Ryder standing outside the gate of the little fence that ran between the yard and the highway. They kissed one another, then Sky opened the door of a white sedan for Julie. She started the car as Sky headed for the Flying Coronet station wagon parked immediately behind her. Within a few seconds, both cars had pulled away from the house headed north toward town.

     Strothers handed the glasses back to Monroe.

     “Now what do ya s’pose his niece is doin’ goin’ off flyin’ by herself while Ryder and his wife are drivin’ t’ town?”

     Monroe watched Copper take off in the Hummingbird. The runway was laid out in an east/west orientation, and the takeoff had been to the west. As they watched, the plane made a slow, gentle turn to the left. He lowered the glasses.

     “She’s headed southwest,” said Monroe. “What for, I wonder?”

     “Well, ain’t that the direction the trucks’ll be goin’ t’day?”

     “Yeah. But they aren’t leaving for at least four hours.” Monroe thought for a moment. “Come on. Let’s find a phone and report this to Laughton.”

Sheriff Winchell checked his wristwatch then compared the time on it against that on the large-faced clock on the office wall.

     “No word from Amy yet?” he asked.

     Dispatcher Bonnie Johnson, a wide-eyed, curvaceous brunette of twenty-two, shook her head. Deputies Kendall, MacKeever, Norris, Barnes, Harrison and Cooley all looked up from their work and either shrugged or shook their heads.

     “Do you want me to go check on her, Sheriff?” asked Barnes.

     Winchell looked at his watch again.

     “Not yet,” said Winchell. “She’s not all that late. I’ll have Bonnie call if she’s not here in fifteen minutes. But, Sue, I think you should get on over to Martha’s store to help Mrs. Ryder. Take your own car as planned.”

     “What about Amy?” asked Sue.

     “I’ll have to have one of the boys drop her off when she gets here. It’s probably a good idea to have a patrol seen in the area every so often.”

     Sue put on her hat.

     “All right, Sheriff. I’m on my way.”

     The male deputies were about equally divided between watching the attractive, willowy Sue leave the office and the buxom, shapely Bonnie answer a call in her honey-sweet drawl.

     “I love this job,” bespectacled Deputy Bill Harrison said dreamily.

“Headed southwest, was she?” Paul Watling asked into the phone.

     “That’s what Monroe says,” said Laughton on the other end. “Of course, that’s the direction the trucks will be going in a while, but I don’t know what she could be looking for now. There’s nothing out there between Kermit and Lake Havasu City.”

     Paul Watling paused a few moments.

     “And Ryder’s driving into town,” continued Laughton. “Do you know what he’s up to?”

     “I have a feeling that I may have underestimated this man Ryder.” He paused again. “I’m going to need you for a little job, Laughton. Your skills as a pilot will prove invaluable here. You’re going to make a flight from the Kermit airport. But first, I want you to stop and pick up a passenger...”

Martha Winthrop was in the back room of her store, loading some canned goods onto a little wheeled cart for restocking, when she heard the bell over the front door ring. She hurried from the storeroom into the front to find Julie Ryder and Deputy Sue Kendall entering. Sue carried a thermos bottle.

     “Good morning, Martha,” said Julie. “I hope you don’t mind sharing the store with us this morning, but Sky and the Sheriff thought it might be a good idea if we kept an eye on the Irons sisters’ office until the trucks leave.”

     “Just in case someone tries anything before Al and Ben get here to escort them,” added Sue. She held the thermos up. “I even brought coffee for us.”

     Martha smiled.

     “That was very thoughtful of you. I’m doing some restocking of the shelves right now, so I hope you won’t mind if I’m in and out for a while.”

     Julie and Sue drew stools up to the counter and sat down. Sue unscrewed the thermos cap.

     “You can just go on as if we’re not even here, Martha,” said Julie. “We don’t want to disturb you in any way.”

“Who are these good lookin’ women goin’ into the store?” asked the new man, a tall good-looking fellow with brown hair.

     Rowlands lowered his field glasses.

     “The woman in the white blouse and slacks was Ryder’s wife, and the other was Deputy Sheriff Kendall. Did you notice anything unusual, Healy?”

     The man squinted through the blinds of the abandoned building at Martha’s store across the street.

     “Only that the Deputy didn’t use an official car.”

     “Very good, Healy, very good. They don’t want anyone to know that the Sheriff is watching the girls’ office. So it looks like we’ll have a little work to do over there before we pay the Irons sisters a visit.”

May Vinson had just hung up the phone when there was a knock at the motel room door.

     “Just a minute,” she called.

     Though it was early, Mrs. Vinson was already immaculately dressed and groomed. She wore a lightweight, pale pink, sheath-type dress with a matching round fabric belt, stockings, and black high-heels. Her hair was beautifully arrayed, and just short enough to display a set of dangling, jeweled earrings. There was a bracelet with matching stones on her right wrist that now clinked against the dishes of her room service breakfast tray as she gathered them up. When she had the tray ready, she stepped over to the door and swung it open.

     “Sorry to have kept you wait---“

     She stopped. Her caller was not a maid or waiter, but two men. One was tall and good-looking, his brown hair slightly curling. The other was medium sized and lean but strong looking. The tall man smiled charmingly.

     “Good morning, Mrs. Vinson,” he said affably. “I hope you won’t mind coming along with us.”

     “I don’t know you, so why should I come along wi—“

     She stopped again as the man drew a revolver from his pocket and pointed it at her.

     “We insist,” said the other man.