Cody palmed the volleyball and took a quick look at the crowd. Millard Murray was sitting midway up the stands with the McAvoys and Ian Patterson. Tim Harwell and Rusty Wise had good seats with Tim's mom on the left side down front. Reed and Olatidoye were standing behind the court, watching over everything. Quinlan supposedly had officers watching the other top seeds.
The team Cody and Nick were playing should have easily beaten them, but the Australians were having all kinds of problems. And the duo of Allen and Ryder had such a sweet rhythm going that nearly everything was falling their way. All their shots hit just inside the line or were a hairsbreadth from being returnable. And they were making some unbelievable plays on their side of the net. They'd never had such a run. Plus, Nick and Cody were the hometown boys with all the local fans rooting for them. Loudly. Which was maybe a little tough on the Australians. Cody checked the score and saw that he and Nick were up eight points in the second game after taking the first handily. If they won out, they'd win the match and actually advance to the next round. At the beginning of the week, he'd never dreamt they might be here.
Cody's serve was just barely returned by their opponents, and Nick's set was perfect. Cody hammered a shot straight down the line for their fifteenth point. He slapped hands with Nick and collected the ball. As he started to name their next play, Cody noticed that his partner suddenly wasn't paying attention. Nick's eyes were sweeping the stands in consternation.
Always nervous whenever Nick became anxious, Cody glanced up to see what was wrong. "What?"
"Where are Tim and Rusty? Joyce is sitting by herself."
Cody scanned the bleachers and found their friends now sitting on the other side of the stands, talking to a pretty lady reporter from San Diego. Cody had seen her hanging around since early in the week. He nodded in their direction, "Over there, buddy."
Nick finally saw them and nodded.
After that tiny hiccup, their lead began to erode since Nick was now a little distracted. Cody tried to refocus him on the game, but it didn't seem to matter; Nick was keeping an eye on Joyce despite the fact that her son was mere yards away and she was surrounded by other spectators. And Nick's preoccupation threw off their earlier rhythm.
Their lead was down to four, and Cody was just hoping that they could finish the game—and maybe still win the match—when Nick suddenly went on alert. He searched the stands, clearly concerned, then abruptly sprinted off. "Cody! Tim! They've got her! Over there!"
It happened so fast that Cody was caught flat-footed. A quick glance to where Joyce had been sitting, and he saw she was gone. Without a thought, he took off after his partner, trusting that Nick must have seen her. The audience sat in shock as they ran off the court, and Cody could hear the announcer sputtering, trying to come up with a reason why they had just ditched the game.
Finally, Cody caught a glimpse of their quarry: at least fifty feet in front of Nick was petite Joyce Harwell, struggling with two large men as they dragged her into a car in the packed parking lot. The two guys jumped in, gunned the engine, and took off.
Nick didn't even break stride. Cody saw that their only chance to catch up was their greater maneuverability. On foot, Nick and Cody could slip between cars and cut the distance to their targets. Although how they were going to stop a car was anyone's guess since they didn't have weapons in their swim trunks. No doubt Murray had caught on to what was going on and he had his gun, but Cody was under no illusion that Boz would be able to catch up before the car hit the street.
The sedan slid around the end of an aisle of vehicles, and Cody lost sight of it. But ahead of him, Nick poured on the speed. And suddenly, Cody realized exactly what his partner planned to do. No, damn it! They'd talked about this, and Nick had agreed: No more jumping on moving cars! Damn it, Nick! No!
But as Cody trailed a good twenty-five or thirty yards, he saw Nick rush between two parked cars, take a running leap, and land on the roof of the bad guys' car as it went past. He slid for a split second then grabbed the roof and the driver's window and hung on as the car sped ahead. Cody saw Nick reach inside the open window in an attempt to interfere with the driver's control. Which meant the stupid idiot was hanging on with only one hand!
Cody kept following—it was a lot easier to keep track of the car with Nick on top. Plus, it kept bouncing off various bumpers and fenders as it skidded from side to side like in a demolition derby. Of course, when it bounced, Nick bounced right along with it. Cody's heart was pounding, but he wasn't sure if it was because of the sprint from the beach or from watching Nick risk his life…and being unable to do a damn thing to help.
As Cody tore after the car, he saw the driver had picked up speed as he reached the outer aisles of the lot. Cody climbed over a couple of parked cars, trying to get ahead of the driver who was flying along the far end of the lot. As Cody watched, the bad guy tried to negotiate a weird angle along the end of the aisle, but he lost control of the speeding car. It slid sideways into two steel bollards put up to protect a cinderblock wall and the fire hydrant in front of it. The car hit the posts at full speed and came to an abrupt, crunching stop. Nick flew off the passenger side, over the bollards and the wall, and disappeared on the other side. "Nick!"
The two kidnappers scrambled out of the disabled car and fled down the aisle. Without stopping, Cody spared them a long enough glance to see they weren't coming back, and then he closed in on the car. In the sudden void of silence, he could hear Tim and Rusty behind him, calling for Joyce. Seeing her scoot toward the door of the car, Cody catalogued that she seemed to be okay, and he jumped on the hood of the car and vaulted the wall, desperate to find his partner. "Nick!"
Nick had fallen down the other side of the divider which was about six feet high on that side, and then into a ditch beside the road. He lay in a heap at the bottom, a drop of nine or ten feet altogether. Cody skidded down the bank, praying his idiot partner hadn't done serious damage to himself. Only…Nick wasn't moving. And Cody held his breath, a little afraid to touch him, terrified of what he might find.
A silent prayer…then, "Nick? Talk to me, buddy." Cody finally stretched out a still hesitant hand to the nearest shoulder—dirt, bruises, and scrapes discoloring the tanned skin of his back.
A grunt.
And Cody closed his eyes in sudden, overwhelmed relief. Nick was an idiot…but he was half of Cody's world. Half that Cody couldn't do without. And despite flaunting the odds, Nick had apparently managed to survive being ridiculously stupid. Again. Cody wanted to both slug him and hug him for being such a damn foolish hero.
"What hurts, big guy?"
A groan as Nick eased over and ground out, "Everything."
Cody released a pent up breath as practiced hands ran over Nick's arms and legs. "Just lie still. Anywhere in particular?"
"Hands. Shoulder. Back. Hip." He opened his eyes, looking up at Cody, "I'm okay, man; just got the wind knocked outta me."
"Let me see those hands."
Just as he reached to look, he heard a call from above. Boz sounded frantic. "Cody? Is he okay?"
Nick started to get up, but Cody aimed a severe look in his direction that stopped all movement. "I think he's all right. Just gimme a sec to check him over." Nick's palms were scraped, filthy, and bleeding where the skin had rubbed off, but the bones all seemed to be intact. Nick shifted slightly, and Cody checked his pelvis, making sure the hips didn't move in ways they weren't supposed to. He helped Nick to stand and dusted off his back, finding the beginnings of all the bruises and scrapes that would result from the fall.
They slowly climbed the embankment, finding Boz, Tim, Rusty, and Joyce all looking over the wall anxiously. "Are you all right?" was the general chorus.
Nick pasted on a smile, but Cody could tell he was having to work for it. "Yeah."
Cody gave him a boost, and Nick was helped on the other side by Boz and Rusty. When Cody climbed over, he found his partner sandwiched in a three-way hug between Joyce and Tim Harwell. They were both crying.
When the embrace ended, Tim cupped Nick's neck. "Mom, anytime you want to adopt him, I'm fine with that."
Joyce sobbed and buried her head in Tim's shoulder, never letting go of Nick. But Cody could see the discomfort on Nick's face despite his efforts to hide it.
"Okay, we can do the Leave It to Beaver scene later; we gotta deal with those hands, buddy. They're a mess."
By then, Reed and Olatidoye had rushed up with Quinlan and a few of his uniforms.
As usual, Quinlan was full of bluster. "Let me guess; you clowns managed to lose the perps, right?"
Cody would long remember the complete astonishment on the faces of everybody but the partners of the Riptide Detective Agency. "Yes, Lieutenant, but we saved the car. Surely a man of your…abilities…will be able to trace the car back to the bad guys."
Tim bristled, "And, by the way, they did save my mother from being kidnapped."
"Even dimwits get lucky once in a while." Cody couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw the corners of Quinlan's mouth raise just a bit. Maybe. "I'll get on with the heavy lifting so the volleyball players can get back to their game."
Tim looked ready to erupt, but Murray deftly stepped in front to block him from going against Quinlan who lifted his chin just barely in Nick and Cody's direction and then turned around to speak to his men about getting a team to deal with the car.
Nick carefully extracted himself from the Harwell family, looking at Cody significantly.
He and Nick were on the same page, and Cody turned to Quinlan. "Lieutenant, have your men found Ottaviano?"
Quinlan mumbled into his radio. Then, "What do you mean you lost him? Find him or you're going to find out what it's like being a meter maid till you retire!" He glanced back and shook his head once in frustration. "They had him, and they lost him."
Cody looked around, "Boz, is Sharon with her husband?"
Murray was tense, "Yeah."
"Quinlan? Carritas and Mendez, Boyle and Radford, Anson and Jeffers; still got men on them?"
Another mutter into the radio with a couple of seconds for responses, and then Quinlan nodded once.
Murray snapped his fingers, "Decker and Newton should be playing right about now."
"Good thinking, Boz!" Cody turned to Nick again, "You gonna be okay?"
Nick looked torn and dissatisfied at the prospect of being left behind, but there was no way he could keep up after going over that wall. Nick's eyes, always so easy to read, were an open book. Be careful; I'm not gonna be there. But his only outward response was a delayed nod.
Cody offered his partner a sad smile and then he and Murray hurried through the parking lot. Cody had enjoyed seeing Quinlan go ballistic at the crowded parking area, but he'd never imagined that all those cars squeezed inside the enclosed lot would be the reason they'd prevent a kidnapping. That and having a complete moron for a partner.
Cody ran back to the beach, "Which court, Boz?"
"Two!"
Naturally. That was the court furthest from the parking area. Hence, if the flunkies managed to notify Ottaviano and his other men that they'd failed in the kidnap attempt, they would have more time to get away as Cody and the police tried to close in.
Cody slowed to a jog as he approached the stands for court two. Murray closed in behind, and the two of them did a quick scan of the bleachers. When he didn't see Ottaviano, Cody turned to search the area behind the stands that led to the parking lot as Murray looked over the beach.
"Cody! There!" Boz was pointing at three men walking away, down the beach, wearing polo shirts and shorts.
"Are you sure?"
Murray nodded vigorously, and, trusting his third partner, Cody took off after them. They had a good head start, and he suddenly realized he had no idea how he might stop them. Or hold them. Or—
The matter was taken out of his hands when one of the three men saw him, then sprinted away.
The man Cody finally recognized as Harold Ottaviano yelled out, "Idiot! What are you running for?"
The guy turned around uncertainly, "They're coming after us, boss."
"We ain't done nothing, you lug. They can't hold us."
The man who'd started running looked at Cody accusingly as he finally caught up. "Yeah, that's right. You can't hold us."
Cody took a deep breath, casting about for a good reason why they couldn't leave, when his musings were suddenly interrupted.
"He can't, but I can."
Quinlan jogged up with a couple of officers. "Mr. Ottaviano, to what do we owe the pleasure?"
"Officer. I'm just here to take in the sights of your lovely little town."
"Oh, really. Enjoy volleyball, do you?"
Ottaviano paused for a split second, "As a matter of fact…" followed by a quick nod.
"I'll just bet you do." Quinlan glanced around, "Got a favorite team?"
Ottaviano's eyes narrowed slightly, "No."
"No? You didn't put any money on this little tournament?"
The mobster studied Quinlan, "That's none of your business."
The police lieutenant looked smug, "I think it is my business. I think we have a lot of business to discuss. Perhaps you'd like to get out of the heat?" Quinlan extended a hand back toward tournament headquarters.
Ottaviano eyed the lieutenant, his men, and Cody, and then he stalked back across the sand, his men following with the police close behind.
Cody let out a breath and glanced around for Boz. He found him on the near side of the bleachers, one hand firmly clamped around Nick's elbow. Cody didn't have to wonder why; he knew is partner better than himself—Nick had caught up and was planning to jump in as Cody's backup before Quinlan arrived.
Cody walked back to his relieved partners. "I think that's it. If Quinlan can trace the car to Ottaviano and his men and Joyce can identify her kidnappers, that should take care of it."
Murray shrugged, "I'm not sure what else to do except let the police finish this up."
Cody nodded, "Our job was to find out who was sending the threats and stop them. We did that. Now, the tournament can continue without interference. Even if Quinlan can't get enough to charge them, by the time they're released, the tournament will be over."
Nick's strong sense of justice wasn't satisfied, though. "Yeah, but—"
Cody couldn't stop the pointed finger, "You're benched, buddy."
"But—"
"I'm not listening." Cody lightly put his hands on Nick's shoulders and turned him back toward headquarters, pushing with only the slightest pressure.
"Cody!"
Murray settled in on Nick's other side and looked at him critically. "We really need to get those scrapes cleaned before they get infected."
Nick looked at both of them in wordless plea/protest, but he evidently found no sign of leniency. He finally just threw his hands up and dropped his head in surrender.
As they approached headquarters, they found an anxious group waiting. Reed, Olatidoye, Rusty, and the Harwells exclaimed when the three of them walked up.
"We saw Quinlan come back with three guys. Was that them?" Tim was easily the most nervous of the bunch. Cody figured having his mother almost kidnapped while he was sitting on the other side of the stands was probably one of life's moments-of-truth.
Cody smiled as Murray started to explain. He'd done the lion's share of the investigating on this case, and he deserved the limelight. Besides, Cody was tired, and he knew Nick was flagging.
"That should take care of it. A gambler was trying to skew the tournament results. We figured a couple of men were probably working with him, so if Joyce can pick out the men who took her and the lieutenant can tie them to the car, that should wrap it up."
Rusty blurted out the next question, "Who was it? Anyone connected with the tournament?"
Boz sent a brief glance toward Cody and Nick before he cleared his throat. "Well, I imagine there will probably be charges from this, and we wouldn't want to cause the police or District Attorney any problems by discussing it prematurely. We really shouldn't get into it. Especially since Joyce hasn't given her statement yet."
Tim and Rusty appeared ready to protest, but Joyce placed a hand on their arms. "Of course. We understand." She eyed both her boys sternly and then turned back to Nick, "Are you all right?"
He nodded, "Yes, ma'am."
She looked him over with a mother's knowing eye. "I think you're lying, but I don't care; I love you anyway. Now let's get you cleaned up."