Fat Assassins (22 page)

She gave me a big grin. “Thanks! That would be really cool.”

“She is taking forever!” I glared at Ruth. “I’m gonna go see what Ulyssa is up to.”

I walked to back of the library and found Ulyssa seated in one of the armchairs, reading Cosmo.

“Ok. You need to do this quiz! I think it explains a few things!” She handed me the folded magazine and I looked down at the page.

Is Stress Making You Bitchy?

“Whatever!” I threw the magazine back at her.

I grabbed a People magazine and sat down in the chair opposite her. “It doesn’t look like Ruth is leaving anytime soon.”

We sat there reading quietly for the next half hour before Jennifer came back to let us know that Ruth was off the computer.

“Go ahead. I want to finish this article on Sandra Bullock real quick. Did you know she drives a Prius?”

Ulyssa rolled her eyes and walked away.

I finished the section on her automotive choices and flipped the page to read about her childhood. My hand stopped mid-flip. A giant photo of Buck’s wife in a long, sequined gown was the main focus of the follow-on story. I read the fine print below her photo:

Mia Taylor received an Emmy nomination for her portrayal of Alexis Fuqua
on General Hospital. Mia caught the director’s eye seven years ago when she
debuted on Stranded. The audience remembers her for her flirtatious attitude at
camp that earned her a spot in the final four. She was voted off the island by her
all male alliance, who decided it would be dangerous to take a sexy woman to the
finals. Shortly after the show aired, she was selected to start filming the medical
based soap opera series. She’s in the running with Lisa Morena (Guiding Light),
Felicia Vasilly (All My Children) and Casey Livingstead (The Bold and The
Beautiful).

That explains why Virginia is being all friendly with Jennifer! If Mia wins, she’ll probably get loads of interviews and the media will be very interested in her hometown. Virginia was probably hoping for a little bit of television time. I wonder if Buck or Jennifer know how well Mia’s doing in Hollywood, or if they even care.

Buck bought his bar a few years ago when Mia ran off to Hollywood for her ‘shot‘ on one of those reality TV shows. He took his half of the divorce settlement and got his shot -
Buck’s Shot
. It’s the best (and only) bar around for thirty miles because it’s on the edge of two dry counties, so he’s rich by small town standards.

It was a good thing too, since he’d been raising Jennifer on his own over the past six year. Jennifer inherited his gentle temperament and I’ve always felt a little protective of her, even though she was twenty-one. I ripped the page out of the magazine to show Ulyssa later when Jennifer couldn’t overhear us.

Ulyssa was scrolling through Google search results when I walked up to the computer.

“I think I found some good stuff.” She printed off a couple pages on the antique black and white printer. She ran another quick search and printed two more pages. She folded the papers and shoved them into her jacket pocket. She did a few more searches, clicked on some of the links and spent a few minutes looking at the pages. I was so distracted by the Mia news that I didn’t pay attention to what she was doing.

“Ready?” She stood up abruptly and walked over to the counter.

“Did you have luck finding what you were looking for?” Jennifer asked.

“Yeah. But I’m a little disappointed. We were looking for information on local colleges. Thinking about going back to school, so we can get a good job. But it looks like we already missed the deadlines for fall enrollment. We’ll have wait an apply for the spring semester now.”

“Huh?”
What the hell was Ulyssa talking about? We’re not going back to
school!

They both ignored me and kept talking.

“That’s good that you’re thinking about going to school. Don’t get discouraged! You can do it!”

“Aw, thanks! You’re so sweet. Aren’t you going to college over in Charleston?”

“Yup. A few nights a week. Just started last semester though and I’m still undecided on my major. But I’m thinking liberal arts.” I was starting to think she and Buck were the only folks in town not on the hustle. I felt another stab of guilt about stealing the magazine article about her mom.

“That’s cool. I may ask you for some advice when we get ready to enroll.”

“Sure. No problem.”

“Here’s fifty cents for the papers.” Ulyssa laid two quarters on the desk. “Talk to ya later.”

Unsure of what just happened, I followed Ulyssa out the door without a comment.

“Just keep walking. I’ll explain when we’re somewhere safe.” Five steps later we were in the car and I was going nuts with curiosity over her coded delay tactic. “Okay. What’s up?”

“Just wait. I’m driving us to a safe spot, so we can talk.” I pouted the whole time she was driving. Patience isn’t one of my strengths.

I’m really annoying when it’s my birthday or Christmas.

She pulled into the dirt road near the Saint Albans-Nitro bridge and I stared at her. “Are you kidding me?”

“C’mon. Let’s go.”

I grabbed my jacket and followed her onto the catwalk under the bridge. It wasn’t even 10AM yet and the day was already shaping up to be a weird one. The bridge was one of Nitro’s primo makeout spots, so it didn’t see too many visitors during the day. Cars thundered overhead as we huddled together to talk on the metallic grids suspended above the river.

“I’ve been giving it some thought and we must be bugged. Maybe the car. Maybe the trailer. I don’t know. Otherwise, how would they have found out that the money was in the Tampax box?”

I hadn’t given it much thought. “Okay.”

“You throw the other hitmen into the mix and we have to assume that we’re being followed or listened to 24/7.” She extended her arms. “I didn’t want to tip anyone off about our plans, so I thought this would be the perfect place. It’s hidden and noisy.”

“Okay.” She was getting a little too clever with this clandestine stuff.

“I think I found the perfect way to kill Marcus!”

“How?”

“We’ll make a bomb!”

“How did you come up with that idea?”

“I just Googled for ways to assassinate people. Stabbing, shooting, and hit-and-run were the most popular, but we’ve already been down that road, so I had to go with option #4. Homemade bomb! And we’ll be able to get all the materials here locally too. I printed out the how-to guide. Easy peasy!”

“How do you know how to make a bomb?”

“I Googled it too.”

“So…..you did a Google search on assassination ideas, searched on bomb making and printed out the how-to guide?”

She nodded.

“You didn’t think it might look a little suspicious?” I started looking around expecting someone to come sprinting down the catwalk and arrest us for being terrorists.

“Of course I thought of that. I covered our tracks. After I printed the bomb directions, I printed out Ruth’s chat logs and a few pages that old people would visit. Then I spent fifteen minutes looking around at colleges. That’s why I was talking to Jennifer about schools. She’ll remember that we were in there after Ruth, talking to her about schools. So, if someone is smart enough to check the computer and printer. It will look like Ruth did it.” I stood there silent and stunned.

“Say something!”

“Freaking brilliant!” I exclaimed. “Let’s see the bomb directions.” She pulled the folded papers from her pocket. “It’s called Acetone Peroxide. I had a quick look at the ingredients and it didn’t look to hard to make.”

“Dang. I’m glad my mom never let me bleach my hair with peroxide. One little spill onto the nail polish remover and kaboom!”

“I think it requires a little more science than that. I guess it’s a good thing I got a C in chemistry.” She puffed her chest out and the wind caught the papers pulling a few from her grip and sending them down to the river.

“Whew I think we got most of the instructions.” 

She flipped through the pages trying to figure out which ones were missing. “We’re just missing the part that explains crystal sizes. It’s not nearly as important as the composition and heating process. I think we have most of the ingredients at the house to make the mixture. The only challenge now is getting the bomb materials without raising suspicions.” 

I nodded in agreement. “What all do we need?”

She flipped pages. “Looks like we need some PVC pipe, tape, a timer, and a few other pieces of hardware. Most of this stuff is at Home Depot.” 

There was only one Home Depot in town and we never shop there. So, it would be out of character for us to stroll in for a shopping spree to buy a bomb making supplies. 

“If we try to buy all that stuff, won’t it look suspicious?”

“Yeah. We can’t get caught on camera buying it and we’ll have to cover our tracks like we did at the library.” I could see the gears turning in her mind.

“We could shoplift it.” I offered.

“We’re stockpiling felonies! We’ll be institutionalized by the time we get paroled. Besides how are we going to shoplift something as crazy as PVC piping? I can’t even steal a grape from the grocery store without getting caught.”

“You’re right. We’re way to clumsy. It would take a real professional.” 

We looked at each other. “Tater!”

“Best shoplifter in the state!”

“And he owes me big time since it was his stupid lottery ticket that got us in this mess.”

“We’ll just have to give him a shopping list. We can’t tell him what it’s for, just in case he gets caught.”

“Okay. Let’s go make our list and find Tater.”

We found him at Mabel’s Diner eating biscuits and gravy.

“Hey cuz!”

“Hey, Tater.” We slid into the booth. “Got a minute?”

“I reckon.”

“We need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“I need you to pick up some stuff for me.”

“C’mon. You know I’m going straight.”His eyes shifted to the right.

“I know. This is the only time I’ll ask you to do it. And we’ll call it even for the birthday present.”

“Gawd! That ain’t fair!”

I leaned back and watched his internal struggle.

“What kinda stuff do you need?”

“We have to swear you to silence first. Hillybilly Oath.”

“C’mon cuz!” He whined. “You know I won’t say anything. It ain’t right to use the Hillbilly Oath.”

I just stared at him.

“Ok! Fine!” He grabbed his skoal can from his back pocket and slapped it on the table.

The trick with the Hillybilly Oath was to make the person swear with their hand on a valued item. The valuable items could be anything, but they usually used a Skoal can/bag of tobacco, autotrader magazine or pork rinds.

“Place your right hand on the can and repeat after me.” He laid his right hand on the Skoal can.

“I do hereby swear an oath of silence on this here can of Skoal that I will never tell anyone one word about what I’m about to hear.” I paused while he repeated.

“If I break this oath I will suffer the justice of the Hillbilly ancestors and my trailer will fall off its blocks. And Shasta can put Democrat signs in my front yard.”

He repeated the last part in a whisper.

“Here’s the list.” I laid it in front of him. “Remember you can’t make a copy or show anyone. I’ll need it back when you’re done.”

“Dang. Paranoid much? This ain’t my first time on a shopping trip!” He picked up the list and scanned the contents. “Aw, this will be easy. When do you need the items?”

“Yesterday.”

“I reckon we can do it this afternoon. I’ll need a few hours to formaldehyde a plan.”

“You mean formulate?”

“Yeah formulate. Duh, formaldehyde is something they do to frogs. I been watching Jeopardy to learn, but keep getting the answers confused.” I looked at Ulyssa to confirm that I wasn’t this country, but she just shrugged.

I punched her in the leg.

Tater folded up the paper and stuck it in the front pocket of his overalls. “So, you gonna give me a ride to the store for the shopping trip?”

“Sure. Remember you can’t say anything to anyone about this.” He stopped chewing and looked back and forth between us. “Ok. Pick me up at the house about six then.”

“You gonna eat that?” I grabbed a fork and finished the last bite of gravy drenched biscuit. “See ya at six!”

We managed a quick visit to Cornnut to borrow a car and a shopping trip to Wal-Mart for more disguises before we pulled up in front of Tater’s trailer at 6 o’clock on the dot. His momma, my aunt, stared out the window as we drove by in the borrowed El Camino. I waved at her, forgetting I was in disguise. She just scowled and let the curtain fall down. She liked to keep tabs on Tater’s visitors even though he was a grown man now. It didn’t help that when he turned eighteen, he bought a trailer and parked it in her backyard.

Ulyssa hit the horn and La Cucaracha blared out the front of the car. I scooted into the middle to make room for him. Tater walked down the stairs laughing.

“You two look like Cheech and Chong!”

“Is it Hammertime or something?” I asked pointing at his huge, colorful pants.

“It’s all part of the plan.”

“So, what is the plan?”

“You’ll just have to trust me.”

My eyes widened.

“I already told you I wuz sorry about the joke ticket. When are you gonna let it go?”

“Once you do us this favor. I’ll let it go.”

A few minutes later Ulyssa drove us past the Hurricane city limits and pulled the El Camino into a remote parking spot at the far end of the Home Depot lot.

“Dang. Could you have parked any further away?” Tater complained.

“It’s so we’re not on the security cameras.”

“Oh.”

“So what do you need us to do? Cause a distraction or anything?” I asked.

“Nope. Just wait here. You’ll know what to do when the time comes.” He hopped out of the El Camino and strutted in the orange entrance with his pants flapping in the wind.

We spent the next hour impatiently waiting outside for Tater and our anxiety grew with each passing minute. Tater was renowned for his shoplifting ability, but he had a large list of items and we weren’t sure how he was going to smuggle it all out. He musta wore his hammer pants, so there was extra room in the legs to stash some of the more awkward items. I still wasn’t sure how he was going to get the compound and some of the piping out. Paranoid thoughts kept flitting around in my head.
Did he get caught? Should we leave before they come after us?