Page 46 of Buck Baxter and the Mysteries of Love

As we entered the car, Hammer threw Stella to the ground.

“Hey, watch it with the merchandise,” she scowled.

“I couldn’t agree more,” said the man with a whizzing, moving, mechanical hand, his German accent thick and his telescopic lenses zooming in and out as he set eyes on Stella. “Such a delicate, curious creature of beauty I’ve never seen before. With a few minor corrections I could make her… perfect.”

In one swift move Stella leapt off the floor, clambered up myshoulders and climbed onto my head for protection. “Holy baloney, what the fuck is that and can you please keep it away from me? And for the record, there ain’t nothin’ here needs correctin’! I’m perfect just the way I am!”

The man stepped closer, his robotic hand seemingly giving birth to a screwdriver…

A pair of plyers…

A corkscrew?

“Yikes!” Stella climbed even higher onto my head like she was about to make a nest.

“Herr Bockenheimer,” said Herr Garbutt. “Perhaps you can concentrate on your next project some other time.Mein Führeris more concerned with testing the prototype of Herr Hart’s amphibious train. Your devices are in place.”

Stella’s eyes turned to saucers. “Yikes! You’re Boom-Boom Bockenheimer? Maniac of mayhem? Fanatic of doom and destruction?”

Bockenheimer’s face flushed red. “Does my reputation precede me? Oh, how you flatter me, my damsel of detachable parts.”

“Detachable parts? Ain’t nothing getting detached in here except maybe your—”

“Silence!” Garbutt barked. “Herr Bockheimer, might I remind you that you are here on theFührer’s orders!”

“Of course,” Bockenheimer said, tearing his lens-zooming gaze away from Stella. “Yes, of course! Let the apocalypse begin!”

“Apocalypse?” Harry turned to his father, begging him, “Dad, you can’t do this. Please don’t do this.”

For a moment Howard gazed into the eyes of his son.

Then, raising his hand, he slapped Harry so hard it knocked him to the ground, blood gushing from his lip.

“Let me make one thing clear,” Howard fumed through gritted teeth. “If you and your mother will not stand by my side in Berlin, you will both rot here forever in the seasoff Wilde City. No son of mine will stand in my way.” He huffed through a snarl as he added, “Then again, you never were a son of mine. God only knows who you really belong to. And only God cares.”

“Herr Hart, it is unfortunate your family has become such a distraction,” Garbutt said. “Mein Führerdemands you do not lose sight of his directive.”

With a lingering look of disdain, Howard turned away from Harry and gave Garbutt the Nazi salute. “Hart Industries believes only in the future. Hart Industries believes only in theFührer.”

Herr Garbutt cackled. “Mein Führeris not entirely sure he believes in you. But now that your prototype is on its way to Berlin, the discussion seems rather moot.” With a glance at Hammer, Herr Garbutt calmly said, “Shoot him. In fact, shoot them all.”

Alarm swept across Hart’s face. “No!”

Hammer pointed his gun and pulled the trigger.

Mrs. Hart screamed as blood splattered over the silk curtains and Persian rugs, and Howard Hart fell dead to the floor.

Stella squealed and leapt from my shoulders, scrambling behind the chaise longue.

Harry clutched me in horror, wrapping his arms around me.

Mrs. Hart melted to the floor beside her husband as blood oozed from his temple.

Hammer pointed his gun between us, deciding who to kill, before settling on Stella. “I think this pain in thenackenshould go next,” he said, pushing the chaise longue aside and aiming his pistol straight at her.

I was about to launch to my feet and crash tackle the big lug one last time when suddenly we all heard—

“No!”

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