Motor Mouth

team. I think it’s time to bring in the police.”
    Suzanne was in the back with me, sitting on the other side of Beans. “Easy for you to say,” Suzanne said. “You didn’t just kidnap Ray Huevo. I’m in favor of us going in and solving the problem ourselves. I work out, and I can shoot, and I’m in the mood to do some damage,” she said, selecting a gun from the pocket in front of her. “I’m putting my name on this Glock nine.”
    We drove to the house and Rosa sat at idle in front of the gate. The gate was closed and attached to a six-foot solid-stucco fence that encircled the property. From what we could see of the grounds, we would have to get over the fence and then cover some open grass before reaching the house. A small metal medallion attached to the front gate told us the property was protected by All Season Security.
    “It would be better if we could do this in the dark,” Rosa said.
    I looked at the sky. The sun was low. Maybe an hour until sunset. Maybe a little more. An hour felt like a long time to leave Hooker in there with the finger chopper.
    “It’ll take them a while to go through a gallon of poop,” Felicia said. “They gonna have to put it in a strainer little by little and power wash it.”
    We all made gagging sounds.
    “I think we have until the next phone call,” Suzanne said. “If they don’t find the circuit board, they’ll call. They don’t know for certain that this was a setup.”

SIXTEEN
    We were parked four houses down from the estate where they were holding Hooker hostage, the Camry tucked back into the driveway of an ungated and unoccupied house. We’d carefully watched the street for activity, but there’d been nothing to see. No cars coming or going. No one out for a stroll. We watched the sun set in a brilliant display of fluorescent orange and pink. We watched the sky change from dusk to dark.
    “This is it,” Rosa said. “Showtime.”
    We armed ourselves, got out of the Camry, and started walking down the street. Rosa, Felicia, Suzanne, and me. Beans was left behind, and he wasn’t liking it. Beans was in the car, barking loud enough to raise the dead.
    “You got to do something with doggie,” Felicia said. “People gonna call the cops on us.”
    I went back to the car, opened the door, and Beans bounded out. I took the leash, and he pranced beside me. He was happy. He was going for a walk with everyone.
    “When I die I want to come back as this doggie,” Felicia said.
    We stopped when we got to the gate. It was still closed and locked. Beyond the gate we could see the BMW parked in the courtyard. The house was dark. Not a single light burning.
    “Maybe they have black-out shades,” Rosa said.
    “Maybe they’re watching a movie on television,” Felicia said.
    Maybe they’re waiting for us, I thought.
    Lights were also off in neighboring houses. This wasn’t high season in Florida. Not a lot of the rich folks in residence. We walked off the road and chose a spot where the shadows were deep.
    “We gonna have to
alley-oop
over the wall,” Felicia said.
    Rosa and I linked hands and gave Suzanne a boost up.
    “Everything looks quiet inside the wall,” Suzanne whispered. She straddled the wall and silently dropped out of sight.
    Felicia was next to go.
    “I can’t reach,” she said, one foot in our hands. “I have to climb on your shoulders. Hold still.”
    Felicia managed to get onto Rosa’s shoulders, I got my hand under her ass and gave her a shove, and she went over the wall and landed on the other side with a thud.
    Rosa and I looked at Beans. He was alert, watching us, watching the wall.
    “I swear, he’s waiting to go over,” Rosa said.
    “We need one of those bucket trucks the phone company uses.”
    “If we can get Felicia over the wall, we can get
him
over the wall,” Rosa said.
    We stood him up on his hind legs with his two front paws against the wall, and we got our hands under his big dog butt.
    “
Heave
,
”
Rosa said.
    We both gave a grunt and got Beans about three feet off the ground.
    “Christ,” Rosa said, “it’s like lifting a hundred-and-fifty-pound sandbag.”
    “Here, doggie,” Felicia whispered from the other side of the wall. “Nice Beansy.”
    “Come to Aunt Sue,” Suzanne cooed. “Come on. You can do it. Come to Aunt Suzy Woozy!”
    “On the count of three,” Rosa said. “One, two,
three
!”
    We took a deep breath and hefted Beans up another foot and a half. Somehow he got a back paw