Marie suggested that she could go in and entice one of the owners out into the moonlight, but Bill rejected the idea. "Not that I don't know for a fact that you could entice a man, but I think I know a less dangerous way. If it works, we can be long gone before anybody knows it."
As Bill started to get out of the car, Molly caught his hand. "What's the plan?"
"You'll see." Bill winked and was gone.
Bill worked his way to the sidewalk in front of the tavern, the name of which he didn't even try to pronounce. As he strolled casually past the bar's front window he glanced in. Everyone seemed caught up in a song or something. So far, so good.
He moseyed on past the window and quickly examined the cluster of cars in front of him. He selected a dark BMW toward the center of the pack and set to work.
The door wasn't locked. In fact, none of the cars had locked their doors. Apparently, in a small town like this, nobody felt the need. Bill crept on all fours to the car he had chosen and slipped the driver side door open. He knew the sequence well: bypass the steering wheel lock system, close the circuit to the engine itself, then apply a hot wire to the lead of the starter solenoid. So far, no one had come out of the bar. He prayed that everybody would have one or two more for the road.
Little sparks jumped from Bill's fingers and the engine sprang to life. Keeping low, Bill made to back the car out and silently cursed his lack of foresight. The car had a five speed stick shift. An automatic would have been easier to sneak out, but it was too late now. As quietly as he could, he moved the shift lever to reverse and eased the clutch out with his hand.
The car staggered, but Bill didn't dare apply more throttle for fear of being heard. He massaged the clutch pedal again and again until the car's nose cleared the other cars' tails. Then he put it in first gear and repeated the clutching process. Within seconds the appropriated car sat purring beside the police car.
"What a marvelous vehicle," Molly said.
Bill grinned triumphantly. "Let's get our stuff in here."
While they transferred the suitcases, clothes and other items to the back seat of the BMW Paul asked Bill, "Is it not wrong to steal like this?"
Bill shrugged. "The way I see it, we're not stealing the car. We're swapping for it."
"Swapping?"
"Trading. You know, exchanging."
Paul acted more confused than ever. "But what are we swapping?"
Bill just looked at the police car.
"Ah, I see. We give this person the police car in exchange for his car. Is this correct?"
"This is correct," Bill answered.
"But . . .did we not steal the police car?"
Bill patted the boy on the back. "Of course not. We swapped Molly's car for it."
Molly almost gagged on her stifled laughter. "Bill, you're hopeless."
"Thank you."
"That's the most involved example of milking technicalities for all they're worth that I've ever encountered. And I love it."
Bill's smile faded. "Well, let's just say I have to come up with something, because I don't have the faith to ask the Lord for a car and expect to see one come down out of the clouds. Are we all packed?"
"We are," Marie answered.
"Good. Now I'll pull the police car into the space where this one was. Those guys are getting pretty bombed in there, so if we leave the keys in it they might not even notice the switch."
"Would you call that taking advantage of the mammon of unrighteousness?" Molly laughed.
"Hey, why not?" Bill climbed into the seat of the police car. On a hunch, he flipped the radio on again. "What are those guys saying?"
Marie leaned over and listened. "Monsieur Leblanc has repaired his car and comes this way. The helicopter searches the fields along the road, to see if we turned off to hide. We must hurry."
"Good idea," Bill said as he clicked the radio off. On impulse, he also ripped the microphone cord out. He swung the car around and guided it into the empty space in front of the whatever-the-sign-said tavern. Once in the space, Bill shut the engine off and crept out the door onto the ground. He crawled back to the sidewalk and assumed his casual stroll again.
Back at the car, he jumped into the driver's seat and said, "Let's hit it." When he went to turn the car around, however, all four heard the screams of police sirens from the direction they had come on the main street. "We've got a problem."
"Have I ever told you you have a remarkable talent for denoting the obvious?"
"Now don't be a nag." Bill ground the gears into reverse and whipped the car around. As he accelerated down the side street he asked Marie, "Is there another way out of town?"
"Not without returning to the main street," Marie said.
"Well, then I guess we go to plan B."
Molly asked, "What's plan B?"
"When I figure it out I'll let you know." He squinted into the darkness ahead of them. The lights stayed off. "What's down here?"
"The end of the street," was Marie's response.
"What's there?"
"A field."
"Is it fenced?"
"I do not remember."
"Hmm. . ." Bill fell silent.
"What are you concocting, darling?"
Bill flashed the headlights on for a second, then off. "It's a long shot. Probably the craziest idea I've had so far."
She grinned. "That would take some doing."
''Don't get snippy, dear. You sound like a wife."
"At any rate, what's your idea?"
Bill paused, then said, "Okay, here it is. We stash this car--"
"Stash?" Paul interrupted.
"Hide it," Molly explained.
"--And hide out in the field for the night. The guy we took it from throws a fit at Leblanc because these nasty fugitives stole his car."
"But we did not steal it," Paul protested. "We swapped for it."
" We know that, but the owner doesn't. Anyway, he hollers that we stole his car and split town--"
"Split?" Paul again.
"Left town," Molly translated.
"Yeah. So the cops go screaming down the road after us. In the morning, we mosey into town and bemoan the fact that those rotten old fugitives overpowered us and took our car. We get some sympathetic soul to sell us his car and we're on our way again."
Molly nodded. "It might just work. Of course, a moment ago you wanted the car's owner so tanked that he wouldn't notice the switch."
"Well, it's a man's prerogative to change his mind."
"I thought that was a woman's prerogative."
"What ever happened to equality and all that?"
Molly laughed. "I love you."
"Must you two joke all the time?" Marie exclaimed.
Bill choked back his laughter.
"What is funny about that?" Marie nearly screamed.
"I'd answer you, but I sound funny when I explain things."
Paul sounded hurt as he said, "I did not intent to insult you, Bill."
"Relax, Paul. I'm just kidding."
"Oh. I understand. I think."
Molly turned to Marie. "I'm afraid my new husband is a born jokester. However, in an instance such as this, making light of it helps ease the tension of the moment. It's sort of a--a--"
"Defense mechanism," Bill supplied.
"Yes. Exactly. Do you understand, dear?"
"I am not sure," Marie answered. "However, we have more important matters to concern ourselves with right now."
"Hang on." Bill jerked the car around the right corner at the end of the street and switched the lights on again.
"There!" He indicated a recess between two low buildings. He pulled the car up and stopped just short of the opening.
"Everybody out, and quietly. We can stow our gear behind those crates over there."
When the foursome had unloaded the car, Bill said, "Bring the guns and some light coats. Head for that stand of trees over there across the field. And watch out for that chopper."
"Chopper?" Paul asked.
"Helicopter, dear," Molly said.
"Why do you not speak English, Bill?"
"Americans don't speak English," Molly answered. "They speak American."
"Picky, picky, picky," Bill chided. "Now get going. I'm going to slip back there and see if it's working."
"No. Not you." Paul's voice caught everyone by surprise. "I will go. They have not seen me clearly. I am less likely to be detected."
Bill put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I hate to admit it, but you're right. Are you sure you can handle it?"
"Oui. I will make you proud of me."
Bill hesitated, then whispered, "Go. We'll meet you at the edge of the trees in twenty minutes."
"C'est bon."
Paul trotted away and Bill eased the car into the hollow. The women moved a few crates in behind it. "Let's go." He and the ladies headed into the field.
Marie lagged behind. "My son--"
Molly caught her hand and dragged her along. "He'll be all right, dear. Bill wouldn't have let him go if he wasn't certain."
"You are certain?"
"If there's one thing I've learned, it's to trust Bill's instincts. Come on."
Bill hissed, "Everybody down!" All three flopped on their faces as the whump-whump-whump of a helicopter approached. A searchlight beam swept the ground about twenty yards behind them and the sound of the blades faded slightly.
"Stay still." The sound increased again and the beam crossed several yards in front of them. When Bill said, "Go!" they moved in a sprint toward the dark patch ahead of them.
Once in the trees, Marie sat down panting. Bill said, "Wrong. Stand up. Lean over like this." He bent and put his hands on his knees. "Helps you avoid cramps and recover faster."
After a momentary rest, they found a soft spot and sat down to wait for Paul. Marie wrung her hands feverishly. Molly tried to reassure her, but Marie asked to be left alone. Molly joined Bill in his vigil at the edge of the grove.
"She okay?"
"Terrified, but holding her own."
"Can't blame her."
"Bill?"
"Yeah?"
"What if they don't take the bait?"
"I'm trying not to think about that."
Paul padded up another side street until he reached the highway. He assumed the character of a teenage boy out for an evening stroll. He whistled to himself, flipped a coin periodically and shuffled his feet now and then in time with his whistling.
Police cars littered the street. Paul watched as officers raided each tavern in its turn. When the searchers discovered the exchanged police car, pandemonium erupted.
The owner of the missing BMW charged into the street, only to discover his car missing. He sprayed a fire hose of curses at the car, at the thieves, at Leblanc and his entourage. Paul maintained a safe distance, but he stayed close enough to hear the conversation. It occurred to him that he probably could have heard it from the grove of trees where the others waited for him.
Leblanc asked the owner where his car had been taken. The man replied, between strings of curses and insults, that the thieves had not bothered to tell him where they were taking his car, and what kind of stupid question was that anyway? Leblanc offered to arrest the man and show him what they did with people who speak so discourteously to gendarmes, whereupon the man calmed himself a bit.
Police began questioning everyone on the street, seeking a clue about the missing car. Paul watched and listened, then froze when one of the officers spotted him and started toward him. He wanted to run, but his legs remained paralyzed. The policeman approached him and said in French, "Wait. I want to talk to you."
"I haven't done anything," Paul said, trying to keep his voice steady.
"I didn't say you had," the officer smiled. "We are looking for some dangerous fugitives. Perhaps you have seen them."
"What do they look like?"
"A big man, American, two women, one blonde, one brunette. Possibly a fourth person."
"I saw no one on my way to town," Paul said truthfully.
"Did you see a car? From which direction did you enter?"
" From this way." Paul indicated the southern path of town. "I saw many cars."
"Did you see a brown, late model BMW?"
Paul thought a minute. "I cannot be sure of the color. It was, after all, dark and the headlights were in my eyes. But I did see a car with a man driving that looked like a BMW. It went very fast and nearly hit me."
"Were there other people in the car?" The policeman grew visibly excited.
"Yes, but I could not see who they were. But I also saw much equipment in the back."
"Did you see the license number?"
"No."
The policeman practically danced. "How long ago did this occur, and how far away?"
"About a kilometer down the road, around thirty minutes ago, I believe."
"Stay here." The officer dashed back to where Leblanc stood overseeing the investigation. Paul saw him speak to Leblanc in a very agitated manner, saw Leblanc straighten up as the officer pointed back toward Paul, saw the two start in his direction. Paul put his hands in his pockets and looked at his feet, hoping Leblanc wouldn't notice any family resemblance between him and his mother.
Leblanc faced him. "Is this true, what you have told my officer? You saw the American and his companions?"
"No, Monsieur. That is not what I said. I said a car similar to the one you seek almost hit me. I do not know who the driver was."
"Did you see him at all?"
"Yes," Paul answered.
"What did he look like?"
"Young, darkish hair, clean shaven--that is all I saw in the brief glare of his headlights. My concern at the time was to get out of his way."
The other officer bounced up and down. "It must be them, Leblanc. We have found their trail. Now we must pursue them at once."
Leblanc turned to his officer. "It is Commander Leblanc to you, and I will decide what we must do."
"Excuse me, Monsieur Commander?" Paul interposed as the policeman nearly melted from fright. "May I go now?"
Leblanc extended his hand. "Yes, my boy, you may go your way. You have done well. Thank you."
As Leblanc returned to the task of tongue-lashing his subordinate, Paul faded into the crowd and slipped down the side street where he and his friends had fled earlier. When he knew he was clear, he recalled Leblanc's words, "You have done well," and smiled. "Monsieur Leblanc, you have no idea how well. Bill will be proud of me." He laughed out loud as he heard the sirens chase each other down the highway toward the south.
Marie sat in the same spot, chewing her nails. Bill and Molly left her alone, and instead prayed quietly for Paul's safety. Bill was having second thoughts about sending the boy into the lions' mouth. He told Molly about his fears.
"At the risk of sounding shallow and uncaring, it seems a bit late for such doubts."
"That's what scares me."
Molly stroked Bill's bruised cheek. "Don't fret. He'll be all right. I can feel it."
"How can you be so certain?" Marie asked from behind them.
Bill exhaled hard. "You just scared me silly."
"I am sorry. But I fear for my son."
Bill and Molly each folded an arm around the frightened mother and drew her between them. Marie put her face between their chests and cried. "He is all I have," she whimpered. "When they took Jaques away I thought I would die. But Paul filled my life and made me keep living. If I lost him--my son!" And she cried harder.
Molly stroked the younger woman's hair and said in a voice scarcely over a whisper, "He'll be all right. The Lord will take care of him. You must believe, have faith, trust Paul in Jesus' hands."
"I will try."
"Thatta girl," Bill said. "It takes time to get to where you really trust Him for every little thing, but the more you try the more you learn how."
Molly winked across at him. "Are you preaching to her or to yourself?"
Bill winked back. "Yes."
"Perhaps you should make it all three of us. My faith could use a boost, as well."
"Shh! I hear something." Bill pushed the women to the ground and drew his pistol out of the back of his belt. He set himself in a low crouch and pointed the barrel in the direction of the sound.
There it was again. A twig snap, a little rustle. He motioned to the ladies to stay where they were and moved to his left, into the trees. He circled the source of the sound and tried to use the trees as cover to move closer. There, in the filtered moonlight, a human outline made its way through the trees. The figure moved uncertainly, as if lost. Bill held his position and waited for it to approach him. A single ray of moonbeam flickered on the moving face for an instant and Bill lowered his gun. In a loud whisper he called, "Paul?"
Paul turned toward the voice. "Were you expecting someone else?" Bill ran to him and swept him up in a bear hug. Paul grunted, "Please, Plain-Old-Bill. You crush me."
Bill relaxed the grip. "Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes."
"I make your eyes hurt? Why?"
"No. That means I'm glad to see you."
"Ah. You speak American again."
"Remind me to turn my wife over my knee. Come on. They're waiting."
As Paul followed, he asked, "Why do you wish to turn Madame Molly over your knee? Since you are married, I thought you would wish to turn her--"
"Never mind," Bill laughed out loud. "Come on. Your mom's worried sick."
"She is sick? Does she need a doctor?"
Bill stopped and turned to Paul. "You're determined to cure me of cliché-itis, aren't you?"
"Pardon?" Paul stared blankly.
Bill mussed the boy's hair. "Forget it. More American. I'm discovering just what a foreign language that is. Let's go."
Marie heard the voices and ran to them. She embraced her son and cried again. "Paul, my baby! Are you all right?"
"I am fine, mother. Let us sit and I will tell you all."
They made their way back to where Molly waited, and the four sat in a circle on the ground. Bill was beside himself. "So tell me. Did the cops buy it?"
"Monsieur Leblanc was uncertain until a witness spoke to him who saw the car leaving town to the south."
Molly's mouth fell open. "A witness? Who?"
Paul's chest swelled. "Me," he beamed. "A policeman questioned me, so I told him I saw such a car. I was not overly specific. I just told them enough to make them think the car passed me as I walked to town. The police--I believe in American you say, they high-tailed out of town after the stolen vehicle. Are you proud of me, Bill?"
"I sure am! Paul, that was magnificent. You're amazing!"
Paul glowed as if Bill had just given him a million dollars and the good sense to spend it wisely. Marie hugged him and said, "I am so proud of you. You have behaved like a man."
"And no one saw me leave and come here."
Bill stretched. "Well, thanks to you, I guess we might as well hit the sack." He saw Paul's look. "I mean, get some sleep. You're going to teach me English yet, Paul."
The night was warm and quiet. Ghostly moonlight trickled down through the newborn leaves above them. Bill lay on his back on the cool ground with his head propped on his rolled-up coat. Molly lay beside him on her side with her head propped up on her hand. Marie and Paul had sought repose in another part of the grove so the newlyweds could be alone. Bill tried to protest, but Marie only smiled, pointed to the beautiful setting and bade them good night. Molly studied her husband's face in the semidarkness. "That bruise looks awful. Does it hurt much?"
"Not really," Bill said to the trees above him. "I saw the blow coming and tried to roll with it. If it looks that bad, maybe I should have ducked instead."
Molly took Bill's hand and drew it to her cheek. "What's on your mind?"
Bill turned his head to look at her. "Just the whole day. The whole situation, everything. It bugs me a little that I have three people looking to me for leadership, strength and the wisdom of the ages. I never really thought of myself as a leader, and the idea of people's lives riding on my decisions scares the pants off me."
"Now there's an interesting metaphor to use on your wedding night."
"Be serious, will you? I mean it. I'm terrified. I don't want this job."
Molly whimpered a little. "I'm sorry. I was just trying to lift your spirits a bit. I understand your apprehension, but I really don't know what to do about it."
Bill reached over and pulled her head up onto his shoulder. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bit your head off like that. Forgive me?"
She craned her neck and kissed the point of his chin. "Of course. I love you."
"I love you. You're terrific. I never imagined I'd ever find somebody as wonderful as you."
"I never dreamed that a gorgeous young buck like yourself would ever prefer an aging crone like me over all others. Particularly someone like Marie."
"Why should I prefer Marie over you?"
"She's very pretty, for one thing. For another, she's younger than I. For another--"
"For another," Bill butted in, "She's got a kid fourteen years old. At twenty-four, I somehow can't see a fourteen-year-old calling me 'dad'. Not only that but you're just as attractive as she is, if that's got anything to do with it. And we already agreed that ages don't mean anything."
"I just thought she might interest you, seeing that I know you have a proclivity for older women."
Bill laughed and held her tightly. Molly added, "And you know that Paul virtually worships you.''
"Yeah, I know. I know how hard it is for a kid like him not to have some male figurehead in his life."
"Did you notice tonight that he didn't care a twopence for his mother's praise, but yours meant the world to him?"
"Don't rub it in. You sound like an aunt trying to marry me off to Marie."
"Hardly. I want this marvelous bit of man for myself."
"So come and get him," Bill murmured.