Nowhere to Run - Chapter 17

It was just past five in the morning when Michael ventured out to find a new vehicle. He hated having to do this, but with Evie with him now he thought it a safer way to travel. Always before when he moved from place to place he had either hitchhiked or taken a bus.  Taking a bus wasn't an option now, the Team was probably watching all forms of mass transit and there was no way he was going to make Evie hitchhike.

     He could tell it was going to be a beautiful day.  The sun was just peeking over the horizon and he could hear the chirping of the katydids promise of an afternoon heat wave. 

     He was strolling though the parking lot of an apartment complex looking for something newer and more reliable.  He wanted to travel a lot of ground and didn't want to worry about breaking down. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake he made when he boosted that bug.

Spotting a beige Camry at the end of the lot he knew he found his car. Tires looked good and it couldn't have been more than a year or two off the showroom floor.  He continued past the car as he spotted a police cruiser rounding the corner.

     "Damn!" Michael swore. He had hoped this would be easy.  He walked to the end of the lot as the cop cruised past. Hesitating on the corner he turned back to see the cop turn at the other end of the street and he doubled back. The coast was clear. In two minutes he'd be on the road.

     Crouching down next to the Camery he went to work on the lock.  His training with the Team had been thorough, he could open anything. Thirty seconds later he was standing up and with one last look around the lot, he opened the car door.

     The alarm was loud enough to wake the dead, which Michael believed was the intent.  He got in and slammed the door. Taking a minute to disconnect the alarm and stop the blaring electronic beeping he sat back and rested his head against the seat, closing his eyes for just a second.

“Damn, that was loud.” He was beginning to sweat.

     As he opened his eyes there was a rap on the window and he turned to face the barrel of a gun.

     An officer, who closely resembled Barney Fife from the old Andy Griffin show, ordered him out of the car. The man was reed thin with eyes that seemed ready to pop out their sockets.  They were big, brown and bloodshot. Michael didn't know if the man was surprised he had actually caught someone or if this was his first arrest. The way the gun was trembling as if in the hands of a nervous chicken, Michael guessed it could be a little of both. Barney had him spread eagle on the trunk of the car as he ran his hands up and down Michael's frame. His quaking gun resting against his spine.  If it hadn't been for the way the guy was shaking Michael might have tried something, but right now he was just praying that the damn gun didn't go off by accident. It was probably the first time old Barney ever had it out of his holster.

     Once he was cuffed, the Deputy spun him around. He seemed to get a bit of courage out of the fact that Michael was now safely restrained. It gave him a cocky swagger that was missing when he first held the gun in Michael's face.

"What you doin' messin' with my wife's car?" spittle sprayed as he talked to Michael.

Michael was speechless.  His wife? His luck was going from bad to worse. Who would have believed that out of all the cars in the lot, he would pick one owned by a cop? This guy must have doubled back because he didn't recognize him from the apartment building. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Could it get any worse?

"Well?" the deputy waved the gun in his face. Most of the trembling was gone now, as the man got braver.

He looked at the Deputy and shrugged which got him a clout on the side of the head.

"I asked you a question, boy!" the deputy grabbed his collar and gave him a shake. "I says what you doing messin' with my wife's car? Huh? I bought her that car for her birthday. I don't need no scumbag taking it for no joy ride. You hear me, boy?"

Michael nodded and muttered, "Sorry."

"That’s Sorry Sir, to you."

Michael stared at him, refusing to be intimidated by this goofball, but when the gun was pressed in his face again he mumbled, "Sorry sir."

"Maybe you should say; Sorry, Officer White, sir."

Michael seethed, this redneck was really pushing his authority, but he spit it out anyway, "Sorry Officer White, sir."

"Oh, you'll be sorry boy, I'm takin' you in and gonna make sure they throw the book at you!”

Michael almost laughed. Being brought up on charges for boosting a car was nothing compared to what would happen when they ran his fingerprints. And he was sure they would. Once his prints hit the national databank, the Team would be on this town like a swarm of locust.
     Still lecturing him on the evil of his ways and what it does to the kind of people who work for a living, the Deputy dragged him around the corner to his patrol car and threw him in the back seat headfirst. Evidently, Barney Fife let his position of power go to his head.

He was taken to the little rinky-dink station house and fingerprinted and photographed. When asked his name he refused to answer. He wasn't going to give them any information if he could help it. The less they had on him the better. Then he heard the deputy ask the one other man in the station to have his fingerprints run and his heart sunk. It was just a matter of time.

As he was being led down a long corridor Michael realized they were putting him in a cell.

"Hey, wait."  He pulled back. "Don't I get a phone call?"

"Yeah, you get the phone call when I say you get the phone call." Barney pushed him forward and when they had reached the cell and the Deputy shoved him inside and slammed the door. Without so much as a backward glance, he turned to go.

"What? You don't use the Constitution in this state?" Michael argued. "One phone call is one of my civil rights. I'm innocent until proven guilty and all that."

The Deputy turned and walked back to where Michael was leaning against the bars and put his face right up to Michael's.

"You tried to seal my wife's car. You are a scumbag. You have no rights until I decide to give them too you."

Keeping his voice even, Michael responded, "I have a right to counsel. May I use the phone to call my lawyer?"

One thin lip lifted on the side of the deputy's face, twisting into a sneer, "No. Scumbag. You can't. And every time you open that smart mouth of yours, you get to wait again. So shut up and I'll let you know when the phone call will be."

Frustrated beyond belief, Michael swallowed back the names he wanted to call the man and moved back.  He knew he would get nothing from this guy by yelling. He was at the mercy of psycho cop on a power trip and he had to get a message to Evie. She was in danger now.  The deputy glared for a moment more then turned and left.

It was two hours later before the another officer came down to tell him he could use the phone.

His call to Evie had been a disaster. 

****

Now, Michael paced the inside of his cell. He had a sinking suspicion that Evie wasn’t going to listen to him. It killed him to talk to her like he did, but he had to make sure she would leave. If Evie would take the money, she could be gone by nightfall.  He couldn’t afford to put her in any more danger. Once his fingerprints bounced back, he was cooked.  The Team would be on this little one horse town in a matter of hours. 

     Michael cursed himself for getting caught by this Barney Fife look-a-like. He must be losing his touch. His edge. The only explanation was that he was still too dazed from the night before.

     Lying with Evie had been like walking in Heaven. Like a dream that went on and on all night long.  Even waking up with her curled up in his arms was wonderful and deep inside he knew he wanted to wake up every morning of his life just like that. With Evie tucked in safe and warm beside him.

     His heart ached when he heard her voice on the phone. She said she loved him and he was unable to declare his own feelings. He had hurt her, but he was betting that hurt would turn to anger and she would leave and not look back.

     The day was dragging along and Michael's patience was wearing thin. Looking at the clock on the wall opposite his cell, he saw it was almost four o’clock. It was surprising that the Team hadn’t showed up yet. They usually worked quicker than this. It irked him that after all his time evading the Team he had been brought down by a Barney Phife look alike in a little one horse town like this, struck down in Mayberry. He couldn’t believe it.

Just then the door up the hall opened and Michael heard voices coming down the hall.

     “Right this way, little lady.” It was Officer White.

     “Oh, thank you, kind sir.”

     Automatically, Michael stepped back and put his back to the wall. Was this the Team? Would they send a woman?

     He watched the deputy come into view with a woman he thought he recognized. Blond hair was teased and piled high on top of her head. She wore a tight, black tank that stopped way before it reached her belly button and showed so much cleavage it barely contained the luscious globes nestled within. A hot pink, mini skirt gave way to the longest legs Michael had ever seen in a pair of three-inch spike heels. Her full lips gleamed with deep, red lipstick and she had on so much eye makeup Michael almost didn’t recognize her.  

     Speechless, he stood mute, watching Evie work her magic on Barney Fife.

     “Oh yeah, that’s him.” Evie said in a thick NY accent that reminded him of Marisa Tome’ in My Cousin Vinny. “I’m so sorry if he’s given you any trouble.”

     She smiled so sweetly at the deputy that Michael thought the man was going to melt on the spot.

     "Are you sure Miss?” The deputy's eyes seemed locked on her cleavage. "He didn't seem like a dummy when we brought him in."

     Evie looked insulted as she flashed her big green eyes at the cop and leaned in close, giving him a good view of her merchandise, to whisper, "Shhhh…we don't call him names. He is intellectually challenged."

     "Oh," mumbled Barney, "I'm sorry." He cleared his throat, "But when we brought him in he was calling for a lawyer and all. He sure didn't seem um, intellectually challenged."

     "Oh that," Evie laughed, "That’s the effect of all those court shows he watches all day. You know, Judge Judy and all that. I swear he's glued to the set all day going from one judge show to the other. Then at night he watches all the cop shows."

     She paused and traced the patch on the deputy's sleeve with one slow finger. Smiling seductively she said, "Not that I mind at all. You know what they say about a man in uniform."

     The man practically vibrated out of his shoes and Michael could almost see the drool escaping from the side of his thin lip.

     "You, a, you like a man in uniform?"

     "Ooo, yes, it just makes a man look so…" she lowered her voice and leaned in again, "sexy."

     Evie laughed a high giggly little laugh and continued, "You know he even tells me about his "rights" when I have to yell at him for not doing his chores. Imagine a six year old telling you about his civil rights?" She laughed again and this time Officer White laughed with her.

     “We have to fill out a few forms in the office." said the deputy as he unlocked the cell and waved Michael out.

     “Come along, Mickey. Be a good boy now.” She talked to him like a child, pinching his cheek and snapping her gum.

     Michael glared at her, but she took the deputy’s arm and leaned against him as they strolled up the hall. Her hips, encased in a too tight skirt swayed provocatively in front of him as he silently swore he would ring her neck if they got out of this mess.

     He over heard her say to the deputy, “He really is a pussycat when you get to know him. It’s just his size that throws people off. It’s amazing that someone who looks like him could have the mind of a six year old child.”

     Michael growled as he watched Evie give the deputy's arm a squeeze. “Ooh, I can tell you’ve been working out.”       

     After signing the proper papers and watching Evie make the deputy drool some more they were out on the steps of the sheriff’s office. The deputy had followed Evie out and was taking down her phone number. She rattled off some numbers with the instruction that he should call her on Saturday. 

     “Oooo, and wear your uniform.”

     Michael held his tongue. He would wait to find out what the hell she thought she was doing until they were out of earshot of Barney Fife. Evie took Michael's hand and led him down the street. Tugging him along like a rebellious child.

"Come along now Mickey, you've been a bad boy and now I'm going to have to punish you. No Judge Judy for a week!"

     “Mind telling me what the hell is going on here?” he hissed as soon as they were out of earshot.

     “Not now, deputy dog is still watching.” Evie whispered as she gave his hand another tug. Then she turned to wave at the deputy one more time. She blew him and kiss.

     “Stop that!”

     “Relax, it’s just an act.”

     “Well, you’re enjoying it too much.”

     “Calm down, Mickey.”

     “You were supposed to leave.” Michael said through clenched teeth. Not really sure if he was angry or relieved.

     “Oh well, guess I didn’t have a chance to do that.  But I did have a heck of a time finding you. I had no idea what name you were using, you didn’t tell me what jail you were in. I didn’t think you would give them your real name...or rather your Michael Connors name.”

     “Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t want to be found?”

     “Yeah, so?”

     “Yeah? So, what?”

“Yeah, so it doesn’t matter.”

     Michael’s frustration grew with the “so what” attitude. This was too much. The way she just strolled in to the jail. The way she got chummy with the deputy and that...that outfit she was wearing!

     “And just what do you think you’re doing dressed like that?” He pulled back on her hand and spun her around.

     “Diverting attention away from you. I had no idea what kind of men I would be dealing with when I walked into that jail. I needed something that would hold their attention. Just thank God it wasn't a woman deputy.”

     “So you decided to dress like a hooker???”

     "If it was a woman, it wouldn't have worked at all."

     "He was falling all over himself!" Michael fought to keep his voice from rising with his temper.

     “Well, it got his attention didn’t it?” She smiled as she yanked her hand out of his and began to walk again.  “Why are you so upset? I got you out, didn't I?”

She expected a little gratitude, a simple thank you would have been appreciated. But did he say one thing along those lines? No, all she was hearing was complaints. Men! She'd never understand the beast!

     “I thought I was going to have to pry his eyeballs out of your cleavage.” Michael growled as he stomped along beside her. "And that skirt is almost…almost…indecent!"

     Evie looked at him.  He was scowling as he marched along at a fast, determined clip, his hands clenched into fists at his side. Then it hit her. An epiphany that lifted her heart and gave her hope.

     “Why Michael, you're jealous!”

     Michael stopped short. Jealous? Him? He didn’t have a jealous bone in his body.  He would never.... He looked Evie over, with her tight skirt, long shapely legs and low-necked top...  He couldn't stand it anymore.

     “For Christ sake pull up that top!” he blurted out without thinking. He started moving again, but Evie stood there, waiting. When he had gone about ten feet, he realized he was walking alone and turned back to her. She was standing there waiting.
     “Well?” he asked.

     "Well?" she countered, a slight smile lighting the corners of her rouged lips.

     “Okay, so I’m jealous.” He growled, reluctant to admit it.  "Are you satisfied?"

     “It wasn’t a one night stand, was it?” Evie asked softly, watching him carefully for his reaction.

     Michael stood there for a moment looking at her as he tried to weigh the effect his words might have if the Team should catch up to them again. Would the truth bind her to him? Did he want it, too? She was foolish to try this, the Team could have been at the station house when she got there. It may have fooled Barney Fife, but the Team was a different story.  Yet, logic escaped him as he looked at her. Standing there dressed like a two dollar hooker and she did it all for him.

Then his fierce scowl faded and he walked back to where she stood.  He took her hand and placed a tender kiss on the palm.

     “Not for me," he said softly. "It was the most wonderful night of my life."

     “Mine too, Evie whispered as she sank into his embrace. Tears came as relief washed over her. "I love you."

     He crushed her to him, inhaling her sweet scent and whispered, "I love you, too."

    “Let’s get off the street and go back to the motel.”

     “No, we have to move on. If those fingerprints come back...”

     “Okay,” she agreed without hesitating. She didn’t want the hounds from Hell on their heels again. This time she would follow Michael’s lead. She had learned her lesson where the Team was concerned. She would never underestimate them again.

     “Come on, I got us a car.”

     “Whoa...what? You got a car?” Michael asked in amazement, “How?”

     Evie smiled, almost proud of herself, and led him down the street without saying a word.

     It was a black Chevy Blazer, a few years older than Michael would have liked, but in decent shape. He frowned and looked at Evie.

     “Isn’t it great?” She asked excitedly. Proud of what she had done.

     He took her hand, “I’m sorry, Evie, I never meant to make you a thief.”

     “You didn’t”

     “Evie, this car. You shouldn’t have had to do something like this.”

     “I bought it.”

     “You bought it? How? When?” Michael stared at her, mouth agape.

     Evie grinned, “Yep! I bought it.”

     Then she explained that she bought it from the old couple that ran the hotel.  She paid a thousand dollars for it from the money she found in the jar.

     “And we don’t have to register it for two weeks.” She told the disbelieving man beside her. “I kind of told them we were on the run from my family. That we had eloped. You were Catholic and I was not, and my big brother was against us on religious grounds. From all the statues and crucifixes around their apartment I figured they were Catholic so I thought that would get me some sympathy.”

     Michael just stared at her.  When did his fragile little flower get so resourceful? He was speechless again. How did she keep doing that to him?

     “So anyway,” she continued, “I told them my brother was an FBI agent and had access to all DMV records.  So, that if either you or I registered a car he would be able to find us. So, they agreed to give us two weeks.  I told them we would be married long enough by then so Ned...”

     “Ned?” Michael interrupted.
     “Yeah, that's what I called my brother. One of the men in the house told me his name was Ned Janerone so I figured if they came to the motel the old couple would think it was my brother and not tell him anything.”

     “Anyway, I explained to them that if we could just have two weeks that by then Ned wouldn’t be able to do anything. You know, the marriage would be consummated.”

     "And they believed you?"

     "Yeah," Evie couldn't wipe the grin off her face, "Every blessed word."

     "I can't believe this," Michael shook his head. "How did you come up with such a scheme?"

     "I can come up with a plan now and then."

     “Amazing.”

     "Well?" Evie dug through her purse, "You want hit the trail, cowboy?"

     Evie showed him the keys and when he went to take them, she pulled back.

     “Remember, you’re only six, you can’t drive.”