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Daves partner was named Rudy. Grade school must have been hell with a name like that.
Rudy got out and looked through the gate to the other side. “Hey!” he yelled. He turned back to us and shrugged. “Don't see anyone.”
“Its pretty big,” I said. “Maybe there's another entrance.”
Rudy got back behind the wheel and drove down Stark. He followed a side road that curved around the salvage yard and did a complete loop. We didn't see any other entrances.
“This is perplexing,” Petiak said.
“Maybe you don't need the key,” I said. I knew he needed the key. He'd gotten the codes off Dickie and now he needed the key to electronically transfer the $ million. If he went to Holland to make a personal pickup, he couldn't pass the retinal and hand scan.
“Are you sure the key is in there?” he asked.
“Yep. This is where they took the car.”
“Can you climb the fence?” Petiak asked Rudy.
“Yeah, but there's three feet of razor wire at the top. I'll get torn to shreds. I'll never get over the razor wire.”
“Go back and try the gate. Maybe it's open. Maybe there's a call box.”
Rudy went back and rattled the gate and looked around. He returned to the car. "I don't see anything. It's locked up tight with a padlock. I could get in if I had bolt cutters/'
“Home Depot,” I said.
Petiak cut his eyes to me. “You know where there's a Home Depot?”
Thirty-five minutes later, we were in the Home Depot parking lot, and I was imagining an elaborate rescue scenario. Ranger had tracked us down at Home Depot, and he was organizing an army to storm the salvage yard once we returned to break in with our newly purchased bolt cutters. Petiak and Dave and I were in the car, waiting for Rudy. No one was saying anything.
Finally, Rudy appeared, striding back to the car. No bolt cutters.
“Now what?” Petiak said.
“They didn't have any bolt cutters,” Rudy told him, angling himself behind the wheel.
“I know where there's a Lowe s,” I said.
Twenty minutes later, we were at Lowes. I was loving this. More setup time for Ranger and Morelli. Probably the entire police department and the National Guard were at the salvage yard by now.
Rudy ran into Lowe's and fifteen minutes later came out. No bolt cutters.
“I'm losing patience,” Petiak said. “Go back to the salvage yard.”
We were now forty minutes away from the salvage yard, and I was thinking it would be good if we could resolve this hostage thing soon because before long I was going to need a bathroom. I'd had a lot of coffee with the doughnuts.
I concentrated on sending Rudy mental messages. Drive faster. Drive faster. Unfortunately, Rudy was having none of it. Rudy wasn't taking a chance on getting stopped by a cop. Rudy was obeying all the rules. After what seemed like hours, we eased up to the salvage yard gate. Still locked. Still no one in sight.
“Ram it,” Petiak said.
“Excuse me?” Rudy said.
“Ram the fucker,” Petiak said. “Back up and floor it and ram the gate open.”
“It's pretty sturdy,” Rudy said.
Dave was stoic beside me, but I could smell him sweating. Dave was nervous.
“Maybe we should all get out and let Rudy ram the gate by himself,” I said. “Then we can walk in if it works.”
