…Iron Chef South won it
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The Doclopedia #2,348
A California Kid & Spider Story: The Junkyard Job: Part 7
It was nearing midnight on Sunday, roughly 50 hours after they had finished the junkyard job and about three hours after the going away party for Smooth Paul had ended, allowing the two college students on the team some time to get a good night’s sleep before morning classes. Spider and the Kid were out on his rooftop patio, feet up on the fire pit, glasses of very expensive single malt scotch in hand. From start to finish, the weekend had been wildly successful.
Spider reached down and gave Bones a scratch behind his ear. The dog responded by licking his hand.
“You know, Kid, in summation about this weekend, let me just say, Holy Fucking Shit. Just under three and a half million dollars from a junkyard! I don’t mind saying, when I saw those cases, I got a boner.”
The Kid laughed so loud that Watson, who was sleeping in his lap, started, then gave him a dirty look. Irene, who was sleeping between the two men, twitched an ear. Over by their hay pile, Kirk & Spock looked up, then went back to eating.
“I’ll admit to some strong feelings myself. That was the find of a lifetime. Once the Bradley money is properly laundered, due to those damned sequentially numbered new bills, we’ll see an 80% return.”
Spider turned toward him and stared.
“80%? Who launders money like that for only 20%? Who…oh, wait…you’re going to have your sisters do it! What is it costing you?”
Spider had known the Kid’s four sisters all his life. The Kid was a genius, but his sisters were each much smarter than him. Together, the four were a redheaded force to be reckoned with. They also took a very keen interest in their brothers life, offering advice frequently. Advice the Kid often ignored, but they still did it because that’s what sisters do. Spider knew this because he had two sisters of his own.
Sighing, the Kid replied, “Two favors to be named later. I was, remarkably, able to negotiate them down from three. So, I sell a bit of my freedom and we get $2,400,000.00 in clean cash back at the start of the fall semester. Adding in the $450,000 that our friend Henry Evans so kindly provided, that comes to a cut of $475,000.00 each for the six of us. It rather makes me wonder if the next two jobs would be worth it. I doubt either would get us more than 100 grand.”
Taking another sip of his damned fine booze, Spider nodded in agreement. With finals coming up, it might be better just to end the year early.
“I think you’re right. Let’s scrap the house in the woods, and put the warehouse job off for six or seven months. Blondie said she’s off to university in the fall, and Trix has sped up her timeline for buying a house out in the suburbs. Smooth is out of here in a few hours, Pie was planning a vacation and talking about buying a shop at the party. I’m going on a road trip home via much of this great land of ours and you’re heading off to parts unknown. Yeah, let’s break until September.”
The Kid agreed with him and they clinked glasses. The truth was, he could use the extra time off. He had avoided the third sister imposed favor by promising the League that he would go spend at least a week back home visiting their parents and grandparents. This was not any great sacrifice, since he did love his family and sometimes missed small town life. Going home always helped clear his mind for the many tasks that would come his way in the future.
The extra months would also give him time to more thoroughly gather intel about Moriarty and what he needed to do in regards to bringing him down. And he’d be lying if he said a few extra weeks of good food and feminine companionship was not on his mind.
His thoughts were interrupted by Spider asking him something.
“So, are you going to recap for me? I know how you love doing recaps, Holmes.”
He snickered as he used his other nickname for the Kid.
Giving his friend a smile, the Kid began going over recent events.
“Well, after Trix squeezed her slender self through the partially open window of Henry’s office to let me in, I put his incriminating ledgers into the very rear of a file cabinet drawer, then called our hardworking friend, Special Agent King. Unsurprisingly, he was working on our case at the time. We had a short, but heartfelt discussion about the Bradley case, income tax evasion, and how fast he could get to the junkyard if he hopped on a Bureau jet within the hour. I assured him that good old Henry Evans would be sleeping in late at the home of one Miss Lana Love. Lana is a fine woman who was more than happy to do a favor for the fellows who made sure her abusive ex would do 20 to 35 in prison.”
“Yeah, that asshole deserved every day he got. Drug dealing shithead.”
“Agreed. So, after my pleasant chat with Agent King, I returned the open cases to the ice cream truck, along with the empty ammo box. Then I left, shutting the front gate and leaving an envelope with the feather of a Scarlet Ibis in it. After following you back to out to the freeway, I stopped long enough to call young Seth Evans, who Smooth had learned was running a side business in car parts that his father and oafish older brothers knew nothing about. I told him that the heat would soon be on and that he might consider taking his loot and leaving town as soon as possible. I even told him where to get a fake ID fast, in St. Louis. He thanked me and I’ll bet you a bottle of this scotch that he was on the road in 15 minutes. I then grabbed a bag of tacos before starting the 4 hour drive back here.”
Spider laughed long and hard at that.
“Oh, that poor dumb kid. The FBI will be hunting for him all over. He’ll have to leave the country.”
“Oh, certainly. I did, however, call Michael in St. Louis and tell him to arrange for Seth to get a flight to Calgary, and to give him the phone number of Mr. & Mrs. Gardener. They’ll set Seth up with a job on their ranch and get him educated enough to stay ahead of the law. He was planning on getting away from his family anyway. Eventually, one hopes, he’ll settle down in his new identity and lead a proper life.”
Spider looked up at the stars.
“You’re turning into an old softie, Kid.”
“I prefer to think I’m mellowing with age. Regardless, we now have Agent King busy with another piece of the Red Feather Gang puzzle, and Henry Evans looking at a either a long jail sentence or a long legal battle, with the loss of the junkyard either way. Our crew has far more money than they expected, and we all have a relaxing summer ahead of us. A damned fine end to this chapter of our adventures.”
They clinked glasses again, then sat in silence, watching the stars, and thinking of what the future might bring.
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