Razor Sharp by Fern Michaels Page B

“Put him together with Lizzie, and you have a stick of dynamite with a lit fuse. As you well know, they are now as one.”
    “You just had to say that, didn’t you, Harry?” Bert growled again.
    “Forewarned is forearmed,” Harry said smugly.
    Jack took his eyes off the road for a second to look at Harry via the rearview mirror. His stomach crunched into a knot at his friend’s serene expression. Harry was up to something, but Jack knew he’d never know what that something was until Harry wanted him to know.
    “Maybe we need to get off all this serious shit and have a little sing-along,” Jack said. “When we were kids, my mother made us sing so we’d shut up and not fight in the backseat. It never worked, though.”
    “Then why did you bring it up?” Harry murmured.
    “To have something to say because you are scaring the shit out of me, that’s why,” Jack said. “What are you thinking?”
    “Nothing. My mind is a total blank. I’m traveling cosmically to other parts of the universe, and the universe has no place for bullshit. Now, shut the hell up and drive.”
    “Yes, sir,” Jack said, saluting smartly.
    Bert hunkered down in his seat and clamped his lips shut.
    For the next three hours no one said a word. When he couldn’t take the silence any longer, Jack slipped an Eric Clapton CD into the player and, like Harry, transported himself someplace else until they arrived at their destination at the Shell gas station.
    Jack watched from the car as Bert checked out the dull gray Ford sitting at the far end of the station. He watched as Bert reached up under the left rear fender and withdrew a key in a metal magnetic box. He shoved it in the pocket of his jacket, then loped back to Jack’s car.
    “Aren’t you going to park this buggy?” Bert asked. “I thought the plan was to park here and make our way to the base of the mountain.”
    “No. We’re driving to the base. I know where to…stash this buggy. It’s too damn cold to hike from here to there. Get in. Harry, call Yoko and tell her to send the cable car down. By the time we get there all we have to do is step in and, voilà, we’re among friends.”
    Harry was speaking into his cell before Jack could finish what he was saying.
    A satisfied look could be seen on Harry’s face. “Yoko said they have a ton of snow on the mountain. She said they are looking for three strong backs to man the shovels.” He cackled at the expressions on Jack’s and Bert’s faces.
    After they hid the car, Bert started grousing about how much he hated the cable car. “I don’t like dangling thousands of feet in midair. In daylight, you feel like you have a fighting chance should something go wrong, but at times like this, you’re at the night’s mercy. Hell, we won’t even know if something is wrong till it’s all over. That’s if we don’t plummet down and aren’t dead.”
    “Shut up, Bert. Nothing is going to happen. Don’t jinx us,” Jack said as he flapped his arms for warmth. “C’mon, let’s go,” he said, jogging in place.
    Fifteen minutes later the three friends stepped from the cable car to a rousing welcome. Flashlights skittered about as the women waved them for additional illumination. A light snow was starting to fall.
    Laughs, kisses, and hugs were the order of the day, with Isabelle announcing the late-dinner menu as they all trooped through the knee-high snow. They all stomped their feet on the wide plank porch, then removed their shoes and boots. All three men sniffed appreciatively as Annie held open the door.
    Two hours later, when dinner was over, Myra and Annie offered to do the cleanup so the “young people” could go off and do whatever they were going to do.
    “Think of it as a free night,” Myra said. “We’ll meet here for breakfast at six sharp since Bert has to leave.”
    “The youngsters,” as Annie called the little group, bundled up, and, with a lot of laughing and shouting, ran outdoors into the