by Leanna Sain
Cut it out, Holmes! Don’t get sidetracked. You don’t have time for that. Remember the article you’re writing. Syndication…think syndication…stay on track.
Right.
It looked like they were almost finished, which meant it was nearly game time. My plan was a back door approach, get to the older woman through the younger one. All I had to do was somehow convince her to help me. Piece of cake, right? So how come I wasn’t oozing confidence? Probably due to the fact that all of my other interview attempts had crashed and burned.
I slurped the last of my drink before gathering my trash, and heading toward the exit. After sliding the tray’s contents into the can and adding my tray to the stack already there, I drew a deep breath, muttered, “Here goes nothing,” and pushed out into the bright sunshine.
I reached out to tap the girl on the shoulder, startled at the jolt that rocketed through my hand. What was—No! Figure it out later. “Excuse me, Miss?”
She whirled to face me, squinting through unbelievably long, thick lashes. The sun was blinding her.
“Oh, sorry!” I turned her to face away from the glare. “Better?”
“You!” I gasped. It was the girl who’d crashed into me while I was doing that interview about the bike thefts at SCAD. The most amazing set of eyes I’d ever seen stared up at me. Dark-lashed, turquoise…dazzling. She had perfect features, a faint sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks now suffused pink with embarrassment; soft lips that were curved into an enchanting smile.
I stared—I think my face still wore a smile, but my inner self was absolutely slack-jawed…dumbfounded. For a long second, I forgot how to speak. Heck…I almost forgot how to breathe. I hadn’t felt like this since—who was I kidding? I’d never felt so bowled over before! When my sluggish brain finally kicked back into gear, a single thought flashed red, over and over like a railroad warning: Danger, danger, danger!
“What?” The old woman growled, breaking the spell.
“Uh…sorry. My name is Jonas Holmes.” Numb fingers fumbled in my shirt pocket, trying to locate the business cards that I knew were there, but couldn’t feel. “I’m a reporter for the Savannah Tribune…”
****
Later, I tried to remember the rest of the conversation I’d had with Cleo and Lily, but it was mostly a blur. The gist of it was that I’d be meeting them later. I grinned at the thought, but then I gave myself a mental head smack. Get a grip, man!
The meeting place was an alley where Lily had seen a homeless man being beat up. It wasn’t much, but it was a better lead than anything else I’d come up with in over a week, and it meant I’d get to see Cleo again. That was the good part. The downside was that the old woman didn’t like me. I know, I know…what’s not to like? But she didn’t. At all. The negative feelings had been instantaneous, and as far as I could tell, it wasn’t from anything I’d done. Maybe she had something against men.
Whatever the reason, it made things tricky. It meant a tight-rope walk for me if I wanted to work with them. And since I saw no other means of getting any help with my story, I guess I needed to find an umbrella or some sort of pole to help me keep my balance. I was definitely going to need it.
My thoughts were interrupted by my cell phone. My brother, Andrew…the pediatrician. What did he want?
I answered. “What’s up, bro?”
“Just checking on you, man.”
“I’m fine. Did mom put you up to this?”
“Do I have to have a reason to call my brother?”
I rolled my eyes. “No back-peddling. You said “check on,” not “call.” And since when do you ever check on me unless coerced by mom?”
“Technicalities. I’m crushed, but yeah…mom might’ve mentioned you were a bit down…you know…three years since the Jill thing.”
“I’m fine,” I repeated. “And I’d be a lot finer if you guys would give it a rest. I mean, I’m glad you’re concerned and all, but honestly…I really am fine.”
“Okay, okay. I get the message. I’ll try to convince mom to back off.”
“Good luck with that, but give it a shot.”
“Job going all right?”
“As a matter of fact, it is. I’m working on a pretty big story right now. Have a meeting with a source later on tonight.”
“A source, huh?”
“Yeah, tracking down leads on homeless men who keep ending up in the river.”
“Oh, yeah. I heard something about that on the news. You mean there’s more to it?”
“That’s what my gut’s telling me. Plus, I’ve got a source I’m checking out. I’ll let you know.”
“Again with the source? What kind of source are we talking about?”
“A homeless woman, and before you ask…she’s old. I’m supposed to meet her and her friend when it gets dark.”
“Is the friend old too?”
“Um…why do you ask?”
Andrew laughed. “Curiosity more than anything. You sound different, and I’m trying to figure out the cause.”
“I’m just feeling good about this assignment, that’s all.”
“Whatever you say.” He sounded unconvinced. “Well, be careful. Anything you want me to pass on to mom?”
“Just get her to stop worrying.”
Andrew laughed again. “Like that’s going to happen.”
“I know, right? Well, give her my love, then.”
“Will do. See ya, man.”
“Bye.”
I shook my head with a rueful smile, as I hung up. Moms…can’t live with them, can’t live without them.
Chapter Nine
Cleo
“Why is it so dark?” I whispered, glaring upward in an accusatory manner. The high, thin clouds we’d had for most of the day had thickened as night fell and were now thwarting the attempt of moon or stars in shedding their light. “Isn’t there supposed to be a streetlight back here? Oops…sorry,” I apologized after bumping into Jonas for the fourth time. Not really. He was wearing some delicious-smelling cologne, and every time I jostled against him, I got a fresh wave of it. It made me want to press my face against his neck and take deep breaths until I got light-headed. I wondered how many more times I could get away with my bumping routine before he caught on.
After our discussion earlier that afternoon—YES, I talked to a guy! My mouth had actually formed coherent words that made sense! I know, I know! I can’t believe it either! Especially once I knew he’d recognized me as the idiot who’d slammed into him yesterday at school. Anyway, we decided to meet and hide in the alley behind Lily’s building. That’s where she’d found the bag; that’s where she’d witnessed Mark Spencer beating and then shooting the mystery man. It only stood to reason that’s where we needed to start. We were looking for a clue and not having much luck with it yet.
I’ll admit, we didn’t tell Jonas everything. Only that this was the place where Lily had seen a homeless man being beat up. Okay, so we didn’t know it was a homeless man, we just suspected it, stretching the truth a little. We also didn’t tell the part about the man being shot, thinking that Jonas might not be so gung-ho if he knew there was real danger involved. We just didn’t want to show all our cards yet…at least Lily didn’t. I went along with her because that was the only way she’d work with Jonas. We’d tell him the truth soon, I promised myself.
“There used to be a light,” Lily pointed over our heads. “Someone shot it out.”
“Ahh…” I responded. “To keep it as dark as the ace of spades. I see. They need it pitch black in order to cover up their clandestine shenanigans.”
Jonas chuckled, “Did you really just say “clandestine shenanigans”?”
I was saved from having to respond when a car stopped at the end of the street, waiting to make a turn. Without a word, we all leaped behind a bank of city regulation sized trashcans lined up and awaiting a visit from the sanitation crew the next morning. Our backs were pressed into the grape ivy that covered the wall like th
ick shag carpet. I was never so thankful that we didn’t have to contend with Lily’s cart. I was still amazed that she’d actually cut the umbilical cord and left it in its hiding place in the alley.
My heart was lodged in the vicinity of my throat, and it was having a difficult time beating properly. The car eased past us, pulling to a stop right beside the stairway Lily and I had climbed earlier in the day. Four car doors slammed in quick succession, then there was a confused shuffle of footsteps; loud at first, then fading away.
I was straining my ears so hard, listening for something else, that I jumped when Jonas broke the silence with a whisper. “Sounded like they went down a set of stairs. Is there a basement in this building?”
“Yes,” Lily answered. “Small window in the alley on the left side. Hasn’t closed properly in years. Always open a little bit. We need to get near it. It’s privacy glass, so we won’t be able to see anything, but that means they can’t see us either. If we can get close enough, maybe we can hear what they’re saying.”
“Great!” he replied. “Let’s move!”
We were able to scurry from the trashcans across the street in a surprisingly quiet manner, considering the way we moved, like we were all joined at the hip. Once we rounded the back corner, we spotted the slightly open window, just like Lily had said. A light clicked on behind it just as we were crouching down, startling me, and making me jump. I quickly clapped my hand over my mouth to keep from gasping out loud. I stared into two sets of very wide eyes; I’m sure mine looked similar.
Someone was talking, but it was mostly a hum at first. C’mon…I mentally urged them closer to the window. Over here…that’s it…a little more. Good!
“No, I was lucky to get this place. Renting it. I’d buy it if I could, but no one seems to know where the owner is. Been empty for years, and apparently the owner’s flown the coop. Since it’s owned outright, and the taxes and insurance keeps getting paid on time, it’s got the city’s hands tied. Until they figure out how to handle it, I thought it’d be the perfect base for my little enterprise.”
That was Mark Spencer talking! With all the campaign commercials on both TV and radio, I’d heard large doses of his coastal drawl. I’d recognize it anywhere.
“Now,” he went on. “…the reason you’re here is because my man, Al, recommended you for the job and you’ve already signed the agreement. Consider this your introduction into the business. Ready?”
I couldn’t hear any answer, but apparently Spencer had gotten one. “Right. This is the printer I was telling you about on the way over here…eleven by fourteen offset. Got a plate in place already. Two negatives for the portrait side and one for the back side. I paid two grand for that set,” he bragged. “Another fifteen hundred for each plate. But look at this quality, will you? You only get something like this if you’re willing to pay for it.”
There was a muttered response, with only a word here and there that I could make out, nothing that made sense, then Spencer’s smooth voice took over again. He must’ve been standing just on the other side of the window, and the others were across the room. “Yeah, you’re right. The paper’s one of the most important things. Even if everything else is perfect, if the paper’s off, it’s no good. It has to be twenty-five percent rag content. Disaperf’s the best.”
A different murmurer spoke. This one was slightly higher pitched than the other one. Again, I could only make out an occasional word. How many were in there? At least four, since we’d heard four car doors slam. This guy made three. Where was the fourth?
Spencer laughed, interrupting my wonderings. “Nothing you need to worry about, right Danny?”
A chuckle. “Yeah, boss.”
Ah…the fourth voice.
I swallowed hard and glanced at Jonas. I wondered if he’d figured out what they were talking about yet; that this was much bigger than a homeless man being beat up. His grave, brown eyes met mine, and I had my answer.
Yep, he knew.
Spencer went on, “You wrap it around the cylinder like this…and then load the black ink. Make sure you run more than you need because you’ll have a lot of rejects.” He gave an evil sounding laugh. “And just remember…it’s not good for your health to get any bright ideas about the rejects. You understand what I’m saying? You can ask Al and Danny about that.”
A quiet response. Did I hear the word, swim?
“Yeah. Okay…while the black is printing, you mix the ink for the serial numbers. A little white, maybe some yellow. Experiment ’til you get it right. Next, clean the press and print the other side. You’ll end up with a bill with no seal or serial numbers. Print a few with one number, change it, print a few more and then repeat that until you have as many numbers as you need.”
Murmur. I couldn’t tell whether it was the high or low pitched one.
“Not to worry. I have a list of all the numbers to use. Next, is the cutting process. It has to be exact and I mean exact. No mistakes. You’ll use that paper cutter over there for that.”
Another answer too quiet to make out.
“Of course they’re white, stupid. They’re not done yet. You have to mix up hot water and teabags and probably…uh…sixteen to twenty drops of green food coloring. Al knows the exact amount. He’ll show you, and you can experiment with some of the reject bills to get it right. After you’ve made any necessary adjustments, you’ll dye all the bills. Once they’re completely dry, you’ll have to crumple them up several times and rub them in coffee grounds, you know…to make them look used. If you follow these steps, it’s a pretty simple process. But you gotta follow the steps. Any questions?”
Again, the reply too indistinct to understand, but I could tell it was the low one.
“No, not tonight. I just wanted to give you an overview before you start tomorrow. Al will show you everything nice and slow. Do exactly what he says and you’ll do fine. Right now, there’s someplace I need to be, so we have to go. Just remember what I said about keeping your mouth shut. I think we understand each other on that point, don’t we?”
I was listening so hard for the response, that I was surprised when the light clicked off. The sudden darkness disoriented me, but I managed to scramble to my feet. Jonas had turned to dash back the way we’d come, but Lily grabbed his arm in one hand and mine in her other one, then pushed me and pulled him toward the front of the building along the same narrow space I’d trod earlier today. We were strolling along Oglethorpe Street within seconds. I just hoped we didn’t look as suspicious as I felt.
“Okay,” Jonas shoved an ice cream cone into my hand after giving one to Lily. “Which one of you wants to start?”
I was going to try to play innocent, to claim ignorance about all that had transpired the last hour, but I gave up before I started. It would be pointless to try. I gave Lily a look, but she just shrugged, too busy eating her cone.
“Well, I guess you could say that we weren’t entirely honest with you.”
“Oh! You think?” His eyes shot chocolate sparks at me.
“You’re angry,” I said, stating the obvious.
He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, pressing his lips together, and breathing deeply through his nose, apparently trying not to explode. He stared at me through narrowed eyes, waiting.
I nodded once. “Yeah…so…where should I start?”
“Try the beginning,” he ground out through clenched teeth.
Uh-oh…time to quit stalling. “Okay. Just so we’re clear, a man really was beaten in that alley, but we don’t know who.” He opened his mouth to reply, but I held up my hand to stop him, hurrying on. “However, Lily did see who was doing the beating…and the shooting.”
His eyes bugged out. “Shooting?! There was shooting too? Oh, jeez…” He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead like he had a headache.
“Do you want to hear this or not?”
Those brown eyes met mine again. The muscle in his jaw tightened, and he gave me a curt nod.
“
That’s better.” Was that me talking? How’d I get to be so sassy? This new Cleo handled impertinence like a pro; thinking nothing of spouting off smart aleck responses to this Greek god in flannel. Well, she better not quit on me, now. I couldn’t do this without her. “Now, the person Lily saw was Mark Spencer…you know, Police Commissioner Spencer? That was the smooth voice we just heard.”
His mouth gaped, and I blurted, “But that’s not all. The day before that, she found a black trash bag containing rejects from the little operation we heard about tonight. Lily picked up enough of the argument that preceded the attack to realize it was connected to the bag of money she’d found. Then the next day, a homeless man’s body was dragged out of the river. The news didn’t mention whether or not that man had been shot, but we’re afraid it’s all connected.” I took a deep breath and huffed it out. “That’s all. Now you can talk.”
Jonas turned to Lily and demanded, “Why didn’t you tell the police?”
She just rolled her eyes, gave him a “you’ve got to be kidding” look, and kept eating her cone.
I watched, waiting for him to make the connection. It didn’t take long.
“Right. Mark Spencer…police… I guess telling the cops is kind of out, isn’t it?”
I touched his arm and felt tingles travel from my fingertips to my shoulder then radiate out. It made me lose my train of thought for a second. “Uh…that’s why we told you. You’re an investigative reporter. You can help us by doing what you do best, and once you get all your facts, you can report them, bring it all out in the open, and the police will have to arrest him, no matter who he is. They’ll have no choice.”
He rubbed his eyes a little tiredly. “This is big, you know…huge!” He stared off into space, and never even noticed it when the big scoop of ice cream slipped right off his cone and plopped onto the sidewalk.