Disclaimer: I think a lot when I make decisions because I don't want to make the wrong mistake. - Yogi Berra

The Great Escape - Chapter 11
c)1999-2001 KSH

For the first time, Tim actually showed a reaction. His mouth dropped open. Just for a moment, before he regained his composure.

"Okay, what the hell have I missed this time? What does Raisin Bran have to do with anything?" Neal asked, shaking his head.

Jon managed to catch Neal's eye, look toward the gun in Tim's hand, and nod slightly. "Jeez, Neal, what kind of an idiot are you?! We could have had everything settled and been back home yesterday if we didn't have to keep stopping and explaining things to you! What did you think Stacy was looking for in the apartment?" Jon continued to rant, while Tim stared at him in surprise. "She sent you to the living room to keep you out of the way! You have done nothing but..."

Tim was distracted enough for Neal to be able to kick the gun out of his hand, and almost immediately Jon tackled him. Tim started to fight Jon off, but Stacy and Neal were quickly on either side of Tim with guns aimed at him.

"So now what do we do with him?" Jon asked as he got up. "Tie him to a chair and leave him here?"

"If he has to go to the bathroom before we get back, I'm not cleaning it up." Stacy answered, motioning Tim to his feet.

"Well, we can't just leave him loose in here. I mean, it didn't work with Jon, and it's not even his cabin." Neal pointed out.

"I'm not taking him with us," Stacy insisted.

"Why not? We could put him in the trunk." Neal suggested.

"It's a Honda!" Jon and Stacy chorused.

"And Tim drives a 3 series BMW," Stacy chimed in before Neal could suggest it. "No trunk space there, either." She smacked Tim on the side of the head. "Why couldn't you get a Lincoln or something?"

"Can you two keep him under control for a minute?" Jon asked.

"Bite me," Neal answered.

"I'm going outside. I'll be right back."

Stacy ordered Tim to sit in the nearest chair. "You tried to kill me, and you still have my Evolution cd. I should let them put you in the Honda trunk!"

"No, let's take him out back and torture him," Neal offered, pulling up a chair next to Tim.

Jon came back through the door with a hammer in his hand. "Okay let's take him outside."

"Really? And beat him with the hammer?" Neal jumped up out of the chair.

Jon looked at Neal like the guitarist had lost his mind. "No. And lock him in the shed."

Neal and Stacy both looked at Jon like they thought he had now lost his mind.

"No, really, I think it'll work. Come on, I'll show you." Jon started to hand the hammer to Neal, and then apparently thinking better of it, hooked it on his own belt. He grabbed a gallon of water and a few groceries out of the pantry. He led them out and around to the back of the cabin, where there was a small shed. A small pile of tools and old boards lay outside the door.

"See," Jon gestured at the door of the shed. "There's nothing in there he can use to get out, and if he has to use the bathroom in there, well, it's his shed. We'll just nail the door shut, and he'll be contained until we get back."

"Contained?" Stacy asked.

"Stacy, empty his pockets." Jon said, ignoring her.

"Not no, but hell no! He'd like it if I did it."

"Well, I'm not feeling up some guy!" Neal insisted when Jon looked toward him.

"Dammit, you two." Jon put the food and water in the shed and then emptied Tim's pockets himself. "Okay, inside."

"Gentlemen, couldn't we be reasonable about this?" Tim began.

"NO!" the other three shouted.

Neal shoved Tim inside with a little more force than necessary, and slammed the door. Jon nailed six boards across the door before stepping back and asking if they thought that was enough.

"Well, it's not pretty, but it should hold." Neal told him, pulling on a board.

"When I joined this band, no one said anything about carpentry skills." Jon retorted.

They debated for a moment whether to take the tools and stuff inside the cabin, or to take it with them. They finally decided that inside the cabin should be sufficient, since they were fairly certain Tim couldn't get out of the cabin. Stacy suggested that they take Tim's car keys and wallet just to be sure.

As they stepped inside the cabin, Jon turned to Stacy. "Okay, what *does* Raisin Bran have to do with anything?"

"You don't know either?" Neal looked a little relieved. "I'm glad I'm not the only idiot around here."

"Tim hates raisins. Will not eat anything with raisins in it, even if you pick them out. I noticed a box of Raisin Bran in his kitchen, so I knew something was wrong. There was a key taped to the inside of the box. I don't know what the key is for, but obviously he didn't want anyone to find it. So I left it at my apartment, and left a message for my brother that if I didn't contact him by noon tomorrow, to go get it."

"I know, I know!" Neal rushed to answer before Jon could. "It's a key to a safety deposit box where all of his secrets are stored. Don't you guys watch tv?"

Jon rolled his eyes. "You've watched too much Miami Vice."

Neal made a face at him. "No, I think that was on Matlock or something."

"Children, please," Stacy interrupted. "The next step is obviously to go get the key and figure out what it *does* go to. Do we take the Honda or the Beemer?"

"Let's take the Honda back and use the BMW," Jon said. "I'm still driving."

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Twenty minutes later, they were en route to Stacy's apartment, which was a few blocks from Tim's. Jon drove, while Neal rode in the front seat and Stacy in the back.

"Guys, so you know someone in a big black Bentley?" Stacy asked.

"No." Neal shook his head.

"Me, neither. Why?" Jon glanced over his shoulder.

"Because it's been following us for about a mile."

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