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The car service had been waiting in the Aston Martin parking lot and was ready to bring them to the airport. Myra and Annie were like two schoolgirls getting ready for a prom. And Malcolm Fielder was their date.
An hour and a half later they were airborne. The pilot welcomed Annie and her guests and announced lunch would be served when they reached cruising altitude.
Myra had the exact dose of zolpidem ready to go. It was a long-term sleep aid, perfect for keeping Fielder unconscious for at least six hours. But first, he needed to relax.
Annie ordered a bourbon on the rocks for him. “That should soothe your nerves.” He downed it lickety-split. The light on the FASTEN SEATBELT sign went off and Myra got up. Without asking, she fixed Fielder another drink, but this time it was laced with the sleeping drug; he would soon be down for the count. It was a good thing Kathryn would be waiting at the airport. Fielder was robust enough that an extra set of arms would be helpful getting him off the plane. Should there be any onlookers, the standard response would be “Drank too much.”
Fielder began to yawn and blink his eyes rapidly. “Wow. I can’t seem to keep my eyes open.” Then he started to sway forward. Annie put her foot on his chest and nudged him back into his seat, where he fell into a deep sleep. Annie and Myra watched in amusement at how his mouth was agape as he began to snore. “Time for the earphones.” Annie placed her headset on and dialed to a channel that had nature sounds accompanied by piano music. Myra also donned a headset and chose Mozart.
Two hours later the pilot announced that they would be beginning their descent. Therefore, if they had to contact anyone using an electronic device, they had approximately fifteen minutes to do so.
Annie checked in with Kathryn. She was waiting at the terminal and Pearl was waiting at an abandoned junkyard on the outskirts of town. “Does she have the items I requested?” Annie asked.
“Yes, she does. All of it.” Kathryn chuckled. “You are too much.”
“Whatever it takes.” Annie laughed.
When the jet landed, it taxied to the small terminal. There were only a few people milling about. The pilot, who had been with Annie for many years, knew she used her jet for a number of different purposes. He never asked questions and always looked the other way. This time he knew to taxi to the hangar and turn the jet so they could deplane without anyone observing. He lowered the airstairs and Kathryn climbed up, taking the steps two at a time. Annie and Myra guided her over to the still-sleeping Fielder.
“Come on, dude,” Kathryn said as she slung one of his limp arms around her neck. Annie took his other arm around her neck and together they dragged him down the stairs to the waiting van. They heaved him in the back and Kathryn jumped in behind him. She began to zip-tie his hands and feet and tape his mouth. She looked over at Annie and Myra. “Just in case.” High fives all around.
They had several hours to kill before Walsh would show up. So they went to a Chick-fil-A and bought almost everything on the menu, from a grilled cool wrap to a grilled spicy deluxe and, of course, the famous mac and cheese. “Four orders of that, please.” Kathryn spoke into the drive-thru box to order their food.
“You’d think Maggie was here!” Annie laughed.
“In honor of her.” Kathryn drove up to the next window, paid, and scooped up the bags of food. “Beer run is next.” She knew to purchase Guinness. The flavor was so robust it could camouflage any additive.
When they arrived at the motel, Fielder was still out cold. “How long do you think he’ll be like that?” Kathryn asked.
Annie counted on her fingers. Maybe another two, three hours. “We’re going to have to pump him again.”
“When he comes to, we’ll poke a hole in the tape and give him something to drink. He might refuse at first, but he’ll also be very thirsty,” Myra said.
“If he tries to resist, I’ll handle him.” Kathryn smirked.
In the meantime, the women kept Fielder locked in the van, which was parked close enough so that they could keep an eye on it and check on him from time to time. Kathryn brought a blanket from her truck and spread it over one of the motel beds and they proceeded to have a chicken picnic. After it had been a few hours Kathryn went to check on Fielder. She brought a beverage in a paper cup with a straw to their guest. As expected, his eyes were rolling around as he was trying to focus. Before he could get much clarity, Kathryn poked a small hole in the tape that covered his mouth and slid the straw through the hole. “Here—drink this. It will make you feel better.”
Fielder was so confused he readily accepted the drink. Within minutes he was out like a light once more.
It was almost eleven P.M. when the women received a message from Charles. Walsh was making good time on the interstate and should be arriving within the hour.
The rest of the evening was about to unfold. Kathryn would be sitting on one of the metal chairs outside her room. She would be drinking a beer. When Walsh showed up, she would make small talk and say, “You look like a feller who could use one of these.” If he said yes, then it would be easy. More zolpidem. If he declined, she would have to use the sleeper hold Yoko had taught her. Then they would have to force-feed him the drug. “Let’s pray for cooperation,” Annie said.
“How about let’s just pray anyway.” Myra said. The three women held hands as Myra spoke. “Lord, give us the strength to help rid the world of evildoers and that these men should never have the opportunity to prey on innocent people again.”
“Amen!” Annie said, followed by Kathryn.
Lights from an approaching vehicle swung past their windows.
“Alright! Places, everyone!” Annie clapped her hands and Myra cleaned up their picnic.
The car first stopped at the small motel office and then parked outside the room next to Kathryn’s. She sat outside, rocking herself slowly in her chair and sipping beer out of the bottle. The taste almost made her wince, but it was for a good cause.
“Evenin’,” she said with an exaggerated Southern drawl. She wanted to appear a bit in the bag, as if she might have had one too many. “Long drive?”
Walsh looked at the woman. He really wasn’t in the mood for small talk. The six messages from Fielder had him unstrung, and he tried to put them out of his head. “Uh, yeah.”
On cue, Kathryn said, “You look like a man who could use a beer right about now.”
