The Launch

Chapter Six

I wake up Sunday morning in the upstairs guest room and roll over to look at the alarm clock. Wow, I slept in. It's after 9:30. Wonder if anyone else is stirring downstairs? I stop in at the kitchen to put on a full pot of coffee before I go downstairs to wake the troops. Lots to do, here, people. Ray's still asleep on the couch. The guest room door is open and there's a light on down the hall in the office, so I leave Ray alone and go to check out what JC's up to.

"Morning," I say.

He looks up from the laptop and nods.

"Whatcha working on?" I walk over and stand behind his chair to look over his shoulder. He doesn't look up.

"Coffee?" he says to the computer.

"Yes, it's coming. I'll even get you a cup." He seems to be busily copying files to somewhere, so I leave him to it. I wander back down the hall to the den, where Ray is emerging from the couch. He scratches his head and gives a big stretch, then nods in my direction. He pulls his leg chain up over the back of the couch so he can give himself enough slack to get to the bathroom, I assume.

"Morning," I say.

"Uh-huh," he says, walking towards the bathroom.

"Coffee?"

"Yep." He closes the door all the way over to where the chain blocks it and I head upstairs to get everybody some coffee. A lot of grouchy people up in here. Let's hope the magic liquid fixes that.

By the time the machine beeps its readiness, I have two mugs and a styrofoam cup out and some sugar and soy milk for Ray. I put all three on a tray with a couple of bananas and a bag of miniature cinnamon buns... bed and breakfast to the stars. Then back downstairs to my cohorts for the day, an editor and a librarian. If I can get a good day's work out of the two of them I'll be happy. Lots to do and not a lot of time in which to do it.

I stop in to see JC first and he just takes a coffee. I bring all the rest out to the den and sit on the couch opposite Ray. I take a few cinnamon buns for myself and pass him the bag and his coffee. He grunts and takes a sip of his coffee, leaving the open bag on the end table next to him. I have a sip of the scalding black coffee which perks my eyebrows all by itself, but slightly burns the tip of my tongue. I switch to a mini-bun, putting the whole thing in my mouth at once. Mmm. Chewy sweet.

"So," I say, still chewing. "How'd you sleep?"

"Meh," he says. He sets his coffee down and takes a cinnamon bun. The livid bruises and swelling around his face make him look as though he is in round seven of a prize fight and has to get back to the ring once he finishes this pastry confection.

I wash down a mouthful of bun with some coffee. "Awkward," I say. "How's the face today?"

He looks at me sharply for a second. Then he takes up his coffee in both hands and takes a sip. It would be a very effete-looking move without the wrist restraints. Then he returns to the very direct stare. "How do I get out of here?" he says.

Ah. Of course, the obvious question. JC and I talked long and hard about this. Because unless you're willing to murder your kidnappee and dump the body, how do you deal with a victim of a crime who can identify you to the police? We aren't willing to kill him. We're not killers. Kidnapping and pummeling is where we draw the line — it's a kind of moral code with us. But we also don't want to go to jail, so we have a back-up plan involving blackmail. Also part of the moral code. We're good people, what can I say?

"You help us with this launch," I say to Ray. "And we will get you back to New York in one piece. You can go back to the office, take credit for an incredible new comic strip out there with a ton of newspapers and get on with your life. As far as anyone knows you were just under the weather for a few weeks and worked from home."