~ Sweeter Than Honey ~

by

Judy Boettcher

Mark accompanied Honey to her car and waited as she unlocked and opened the door. A light, misty rain moistened their faces and created oily rainbow swirls across the blacktop of the parking lot.

Suddenly, Honey froze. “Mark, where’s your car?”

Mark, passing her the bag of rolls, casually asked, “Why?”

Honey immediately tossed the bag into the back seat, slammed the car door and clicked the locks shut with her key chain. “They’ll recognize my car if we chase them in mine.”

Mark’s face said it all, as he looked around the parking lot. “We’re going to chase someone?”

Honey yelled, “No time, Mark. We’ve got to go. Where is it?”

“Well, okay.” Mark turned around to locate his red Mustang. “Over there.”

Honey started walking in that direction. Mark snatched his plastic grocery bag from the cart and charged by her, running.

“Wait, Mark. Don’t run. They might spot us.”

Mark slowed beside her and matched his pace to her quick gait. “Got it. Whom are we chasing, by the way?”

Honey watched an old green Pontiac exit the parking lot and turn right. “Lonnie Presley and Lyle Denning.”

As they reached the back end of his Mustang, Mark said, “Lonnie Presley?”

“Yes. And his sidekick, Lyle.”

Mark hesitated by his car door. “Who’s going to drive?”

Honey answered, “You are.”

“Why?” Mark asked.

Honey looked exasperated. “Because it’s your car.”

“Oh, yeah.” He pulled the car keys from his pocket, unlocked the door, and swooped the grocery bag into the backseat of the Mustang. He got in and reached over to unlock the passenger door.

Honey wasted no time jumping into the low bucket seat and reaching for the seatbelt. “Hurry. There they go. See them?”

Mark inserted and turned the key, flipped on the windshield wipers, and squinted across the parking lot. “Yes, I think so.”

“Hurry!”

Pulling back the restored Mustang’s floor gearshift to ‘D,’ Mark pressed the gas pedal to the floor, and shot out of the parking space. Luckily, he had parked far enough away from the grocery store to avoid much pedestrian traffic. He slowed momentarily as a store employee crossed the lot with a long line of shopping carts lassoed together, heading for the front door of the store. Mark waited a few seconds to traverse safely around the store employee.

“Go around!” Honey cried, with her face pushed as far into the front windshield as the seatbelt would allow. “Turn right!”

Mark followed directions, and after lurching into the four-lane street, searched for the green Pontiac. “Where are they?”

“I’ve got them. I’m not taking my eyes off them. They’re two cars ahead of us. But try to catch up.”

Mark signaled into the left lane, gunned the gas pedal, and shot ahead of the next car.

“That’s good. Stay here.”

Finally allowing himself to exhale, Mark clenched both hands around the steering wheel and wiggled deep into his bucket seat for the chase. “Do you do this a lot?” he nervously chuckled.

Honey complained, “Not often enough.”

Mark glanced at her face, made even more beautiful by the faint glow of passing streetlights and the excitement of this shared magic moment.

~ * ~

As they followed closely, Honey took her cell phone from her purse, hitting the speed dial for Allan’s office. His secretary quickly transferred the call.

“Allan! I’m in pursuit of Lonnie Presley right now. He’s with Lyle Denning in Lyle’s Pontiac.”

Allan cautioned her to be careful. “Where is he headed right now?”

“We’re east on Speedway, nearing Euclid. We’re following fairly close.”

Allan didn’t miss a thing. “We?”

“Uh… just a friend. Look, he’s signaling right ahead. Stay with him.”

“I didn’t see you after court today. I wanted to congratulate you on your testimony.”

“Thanks, Allan. I tried to do my best.”

Allan’s voice was faint. “What’d you say, Honey? You’re breaking up.”

“Must be the rain, Allan. By the way, what did you tell Judge Franklin to postpone the remainder of my testimony until Monday?”

“I told her I believed there was evidence out there that would exonerate an innocent man, and if she didn’t listen to it now, she’d surely be pushing us to appeal.”

“Brilliant, Allan.” She paused. “What evidence?”

“You’re chasing it, Honey. Keep me informed.”

“Check with you soon.” She clicked off the cell phone.

“What evidence?” Mark repeated.

Suddenly, Honey wondered what in the world she thought she was doing, and exactly what the ramifications would be, if she were caught chasing down this street, riding shotgun with the former court reporter on the trial. Was she insane?

“Never mind, Honey. Don’t tell me.”

“Thank you, Mark. I may be getting you into enough trouble if anyone discovers you’re my taxi driver.”

“Well, I’ve been sitting inside the courtroom as an observer for three days straight now, and if Judge Franklin hasn’t questioned it yet, I think I’m safe--still, let’s not mention this chase, for Stanley’s sake.”

Honey glanced quickly at Mark. “You’ve been inside the courtroom all this week?”

Mark hesitated. “I’m very interested in the case. I took off some vacation days.”

The late November afternoon sun was setting. Faintly illuminated by the glow of the Mustang’s panel lights, Honey tried to make out Mark’s facial features. She couldn’t see much so she concentrated on the cars ahead. “Where are these guys going?”

“Looks like south of the University.”

“And I’d bet straight back to the same neighborhood I followed Lyle to earlier this week. Ease up a bit and pull back. I know where they’re going.”

Mark followed Honey’s orders and allowed another car to pass his Mustang. “Is this good?”

Honey nodded. “Yes. The traffic lights are with us so I don’t think we’ll get left behind, but be prepared to run a red light.”

Mark jerked his head sideways, “Run a red light?”

“Just kidding, Mark. You’re doing fine.”

He sighed. They followed the old green Pontiac straight for a few blocks, before Lyle signaled and turned left onto Broadway.

“See that?” Honey asked.

“Got it.”

They followed the Pontiac for a mile, without incident. Honey relaxed. “You’re good at this, Mark. Ever think of becoming a private eye?”

“I don’t know if I could handle all the excitement.”

“Believe me, Mark--most of private investigating is done in front of a computer screen these days. You could handle it.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Honey turned back to the windshield. “They’re turning again--left onto Plumer, just where Lyle led me to the other day.”

Mark quickly reassured her, “I’ve got it. I’m going to turn left on the side street just before Plumer and try to follow him parallel-wise. That way, if he’s spotted us…”

“Scratch what I said before, Mark. You’re great at this.”

Mark turned left and they kept track of Lyle’s Pontiac from the parallel side street, as Lyle and Lonnie continued north. The Pontiac suddenly slowed down and continued through an empty intersection before turning right. Mark continued on for one block, turned right himself, and doubled back. “Where’d he go?”

Honey cautioned, “Slow down. I see them. They’re parked in a driveway about five houses down on the right side.”

Mark slowed to a crawl and pulled over to the curb. “I’d better wait here.”

“Good thinking.”

They watched as Lyle and Lonnie exited the Pontiac and shuffled up the driveway to the side entrance of the house.

“Pull up, Mark. I think it’s safe now.”

Mark pulled the floor gear back and inched forward. They passed the house just as Lyle and Lonnie stepped inside.

Honey directed Mark to drive around the block as she turned on her cell phone and dialed her brother’s cell phone number. Brad answered immediately.

“Where are you right now?” Honey demanded.

“Back at the office. Excellent testimony this morning, Honey. But I couldn’t catch you after court. Where’d you go?”

“I had some shopping to do. Thanks for the accolades, but no time right now. I need you to see what you can find on 224 E. Desert Bloom.”

“On it. Call you right back.” Brad hung up.

As Mark returned to the top of the street, Honey sighted Lyle and Lonnie walking back to the Pontiac.

“Pull over, quickly!”

Mark immediately pulled off to the right side and turned off the Mustang’s loud engine.

“Duck down in your seat,” Honey commanded, as she slouched beneath view.

Mark folded his long legs beneath the steering column and compressed his neck as far as possible, but his eyes were still level with the bottom of the windshield. “I can still see.”

“Good.” Honey whispered. “But keep low.”

“Lonnie is carrying something. Looks like a rolled up paper bag.”

Honey slightly raised her head to catch a glimpse of the package under Lonnie’s arm. “Yep. I see it.”

Honey’s cell phone rang. She immediately answered it. “Brad?”

“Why are you whispering?” Brad asked.

“We’re ducked down in… uh… Mark’s car.”

“Mark? You’re with Mark Ryan right now? Honey! What are you thinking?”

“Never mind, Brad. We’ll discuss it later. What did you find?”

Brad firmly sighed, then shared some illuminating information with Honey that helped her instantly add up two and two and get four.

“That’s great, Brad. Thanks.”

“Wait, Honey--”

She clicked off her cell phone, with no time for further lectures right now.

Mark was anxiously waiting. “Shall I follow them? I can still catch up.”

“No need. We’ve got Lonnie now. Head back up to Broadway. You can drop me off at Allan’s office a few miles east, and I’ll get a ride back to my car. I’ve got to speak with him right away.”