(1997) Lucky You by Carl Hiaasen

Author:Carl Hiaasen [Hiaasen, Carl]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-06-13T05:35:28+00:00

Chapter 17

It was Shiner's first kidnapping, and despite a shaky start it came off pretty well.He had hitchhiked to the Grove, where he'd fallen asleep in Peacock Park. In mid afternoon he'd awakened and wandered down Grand Avenue to buy a handgun. His street-corner inquiries had been so poorly received that he'd been chased from the neighborhood by a group of black and Hispanic teenagers. Naturally he'd lost his bush hat and the golf spikes, which were ill-suited for a footrace.

Armed only with a stubby Phillips-head screwdriver he'd found beneath a banyan tree, Shiner arrived at Hooters shortly before five o'clock. Remembering Chub's instructions, he struck up a conversation with the bartender, who was glad to point out Amber among the servers. Shiner scoped her out—hot-looking, like Chub had said, but as a rule most waitresses were hot-looking to Shiner. And while Chub had made a great point of detailing Amber's uncanny resemblance to Kim Basinger, the information was useless to Shiner. He didn't know who Kim Basinger was. While preparing for the crime, Shiner became apprehensive over the possibility of snatching the wrong girl. What if Hooters had more than one Amber? Chub would shoot him dead, that's what.

Hours later, Shiner was crouched behind a hedgerow when the waitress identified by the bartender left work. She slipped behind the wheel of a giant Ford sedan, which momentarily rattled Shiner (who'd been expecting a sports car—in his mind, all hot-looking babes belonged in sports cars). He recovered his composure, flung himself in the passenger side and placed the tip of the screwdriver against Amber's soft and flawless neck.

"Whoa," she said.

Not a scream, but a whoa.

"You Amber?"

She nodded carefully.

"The one looks like the actor—Kim something?"

Amber said, "You're the second guy this week who's told me that."

Shiner was flooded with relief. "All right. Now drive."

"That a knife?"

Shiner pulled the screwdriver away from Amber's neck. The grooved tip left a small, stellate impression in her skin; Shiner could see it in the green glow of the dashboard.

Hastily he slipped the tool into his pocket. "Yeah, it's a knife. I got a damn gun, too."

"I believe you," Amber said.

After a few wrong turns, he got her pointed south. She didn't ask where they were going, but Shiner was ready if she did. Base camp, would be his answer. Base camp of the White Clarion Aryans! That'd give her something to think about.

"This your car?" he asked.

"My dad gave it to me. Runs great," Amber said.

Not the least bit shy. That's cool, Shiner thought.

"My boyfriend has a Miata," she added. "Well, had a Miata. Anyhow, I like this better. More legroom—I've got super-long legs."

Shiner felt his cheeks flush. Up close, Amber was very beautiful. Whenever headlights passed in the other direction, he could see glimmers of gold in her long eyelashes. Plus she smelled absolutely fantastic for someone who worked with chicken wings and burgers, not to mention the onions. Shiner believed Amber smelled about a thousand times sweeter than the baskets of orange blossoms his mother would take to the Road-Stain Jesus.

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