by Leanna Sain
Grabbing a large canvas from my supply in the closet, I secured it to the easel, quickly prepared my palette, and immediately started blocking in color. I’d decided this first painting would be composed of Lily sprinkling glitter around a parking meter. Its purpose? Well, basically, I wanted to capture her essence two-dimensionally and introduce the viewer to her colorful personality. I wanted to make her real enough, so that everyone could experience the same magical pull I’d felt the minute I saw her. It was a tall order, but I was anxious to try.
It didn’t take me long to get lost in my work.
****
When I stepped back and glanced at my watch, I did a double-take. Wow! After five, already. I glanced at the window, noting the fading light with a mixture of emotions. I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel. Excitement and anticipation were walking hand in hand with fear and worry…a veritable smorgasbord of emotional contradictions.
Tut opened one eye at me from his usual place on his pillow and yawned big enough I think I might’ve seen his small intestine. “Ugh! Thanks for sharing, Tut. Just what I wanted…a personal tour of a feline gastrological system.”
He ignored me and settled back down, pulling one of his front legs up over his face, like the big, bad light was hurting his poor, wittle eyes. Oh, brother!
Turning my attention back to the painting, I tried to study it “clinically,” in other words, to separate myself from my emotions—an admonition repeated by every SCAD professor when they critiqued our work. That was actually harder than it sounded. It’s the nature of the beast, really. We, artists get emotionally attached to our work, because we put a little piece of ourselves in everything we do. After a few minutes I nodded, and finally smiled. Not bad. Once it dried some, I’d add a few details here and there, and it could work. It could definitely work.
Hanging up my smock, I caught my reflection in the closet’s full-length mirror, and gave my appearance a critique, too. No stray paint splotches on my face…that was good, but was my outfit right for a stake-out? What did one wear to something like that? Was there some sort of protocol? Probably something dark, preferably black. I grimaced. Not really my color, so I don’t have too much to choose from. Decisions, decisions…Of course, the romantic side of me wanted to wear something pretty and feminine, something that’d knock Jonas’ socks off, but the practical side had a big mouth, and more volume.
Practicality won.
Heaving a sigh, I snagged a pair of black jeans from a hanger, before turning to the chest of drawers. The deep bottom one was full of sweaters that I rarely used since Savannah had such mild winters. The one I was looking for was underneath all the others; a black turtleneck that’d never been worn. Aunt Patricia had given it to me two Christmases ago and it still had the tags on it. I’d planned on exchanging it for something I’d be more likely to use, but had never gotten around to it. Staring at it, I wrinkled my nose.
Minutes later, I stared at the slim, boyish figure who gazed back at me from the mirror. The form-fitting black did nothing but emphasize my lack of “form.” I turned in order to get a side view and groaned. That was even worse! And I looked like a cat-burglar. All I needed was black knit cap and a mask. Maybe this wearing solid-black idea was overkill. Surely I had something both dark colored and frilly somewhere.
All of my clothes-changing activity had finally roused Tut, and he now sat at the end of my bed, staring at me.
“So…what do you think, boy? Do I look too much like Cat Woman?”
The expression he gave me was the feline equivalent of an eye roll.
I snorted. “Yeah, I know, I know…you’re saying, “You wish! Anne Hathaway, you’re not.” She might be able to make that look work, but…” I chewed my bottom lip, undecided. This was harder than it ought to be.
Minnie made the decision for me when she hollered upstairs. “Cleo, your date’s here!”
Date? Oh, no! I leaned my back against the door, head in my hands, embarrassed beyond belief. I felt like strangling her. This wasn’t a date, and Minnie knew it. I could almost picture the sly look she was more than likely wearing. What must Jonas be thinking? Probably wondering what I’d been telling her. My groan was filled with despair. If only the floor would supply a hole that would swallow me.
Okay, stop! Get a grip! You are not going to cringe back into the old Cleo…the pre-Lily Cleo. Jonas is downstairs, you idiot! What are you waiting for? Plus, you have no way of knowing what else Minnie might be saying to him at this very moment. She might refer to him as your boyfriend again…or worse. Get a move on!
Chapter Twenty
Jonas
I knew I was taking a big chance by breaking my “cover,” but if there was the slightest possibility that we could save Raymond again, it was a chance I was willing to take. Maybe it was the fact that I’d risked my life for him once already, but I felt like I had a lot invested in the guy.
I had to be careful, though. Spencer had connections. I didn’t know how many people were actually on his payroll, how many “eyes” might be watching me and would report back to him.
I hadn’t told Cleo yet, but my disguise had worked better than I’d expected. One of Spencer’s muscle-bound gorillas had approached me just after Cleo’s panicked call about Raymond.
“Haven’t seen you around here before.”
I glanced over at the man in a black leather jacket who was seated at the other end of the bench. The pea-sized diamond stud in his right ear caught the sun and sprayed a shimmering rainbow across his thick shoulder. The spectrum struck me as odd, out of place, the right prop on the wrong stage. He also had a tattoo on his neck. Some kind of a Chinese symbol. One that was supposed to mean “eat hot death” or “kitten torturer,” or some other sadistic line, but probably meant “I love butterflies.” I mean, besides the tattoo artist, who’d know? Someone fluent in Chinese, yeah, but there weren’t a lot of them around. It was the perfect joke to play on someone.
“Just got here this morning,” I drawled. That was one thing I hadn’t asked Lily…how I should speak while in this disguise.
“Where from?” He turned his head toward me for the briefest of seconds, and I caught a glimpse of his eyes, so pale blue, they were almost devoid of color. Their coldness was like an icy finger running up my spine, and it was all I could do to keep from shuddering.
“Charleston. Thumbed my way down.”
His only answer was a sort of low hum, then he was quiet. I listened to the everyday sounds of the city while I waited for him to speak, trying to pretend I didn’t care whether he had anything more to say to me or not. The beep-beep-beep of a UPS truck backing up; the high-pitched whine of a mo-ped; the unmistakable sound of Beach Boys music wafting from someone’s car window; a jogger panting past us, dragging an overweight Pomeranian on a leash behind him. The poor dog looked like a furry balloon on a string.
“You looking for work?” he finally asked.
This is it! “Uh…yeah, guess I could use the money. What kind of job we talking about? I don’t have a lot of experience.”
“Oh, we train you. That ain’t a problem, but it’s a real special kind of job…delicate, if you know what I mean…the main requirement is having the ability to keep your mouth shut. You got that kind of skill-set?”
“You mean can I keep my eyes and ears open and my mouth closed? Yeah, I got plenty of practice at that kind of job. I’m your man.”
Gorilla-neck nodded. “Glad to hear it. We work nights. I’ll meet you here at midnight.”
I nodded. “I’ll be here.”
****
He’d no sooner lumbered off, when my phone buzzed. I answered without checking the screen, thinking it was Cleo again.
“What’s up?”
“Jonas?”
My stomach flopped. It wasn’t the voice I was expecting.
“Oh, God! Jonas! I’ve been calling and calling. Didn’t you get my voice mails? Why haven’t you called me back?” She sounded breathless, excited.
“Hello, Jill.”
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Why haven’t you called me back?” Had she always sounded this whiney?
“I’d have thought that was pretty obvious, wouldn’t you? You’re pretty dense for a smart girl.”
“Don’t be mean, Jonas.”
What? “Please tell me you didn’t just say that. You can’t be serious. You dump me the night before our wedding; I don’t hear a word from you for three years, and now you’re telling me not to be “mean”? Give me a break!”
“I just needed to talk to you,” she whined again. I could almost see her famous pout. She wielded that tool like a pro, always managing to get what she wanted, but doing it in such a cute way that I’d never minded being maneuvered before. That is, until now.
“Everything was said three years ago.”
“No, Jonas. It wasn’t. I was wrong. I know that now. I—can we meet somewhere? To talk? I’m here…in Savannah. Didn’t your mom tell you?”
Jill was here? “No, I haven’t talked to her lately.”
“Yeah, well…I’m looking for an apartment now. I thought we might—”
“Might what? No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.” I yanked off my cap and raked an angry hand through my hair. “You can’t possibly think that you can waltz back into my life after all this time, that we’ll just pick up where we left off. It doesn’t work that way, Jill.”
“But—”
“No! If that’s what you came down here thinking, then you’ve wasted your time, and you might as well turn around and go right back the way you came. It’s over. It’s been over. There’s someone else in my life, now…someone very important to me.” Though I was surprised to hear myself saying those words aloud, I realized they were true. “And besides that, I’m in the middle of a big story. There’s no time to see you even if I wanted to—which I don’t—by the way. I’ve just got too much going on right now.”
After a long silence, she asked, “What’s her name? She must be pretty special if she’s captured your heart.”
“Her name’s Cleo…Cleo Davis…and yes, she is special.”
I heard her sigh. “Well…okay then. I’ll let you go. I know you’re busy. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Goodbye, Jill.”
****
I pulled my cap back on, yanking it low, staring at nothing through narrowed eyes. That was weird…very un-Jill-like. She’d acquiesced too easily. Made me suspicious. What was she up to? And what had caused her decision to move to Savannah? There had to be more to it. She wouldn’t have up and moved like this just to be closer to me. Last I’d heard, she’d married some rich old guy, about three times her age. Had he kicked the bucket or kicked her out? Maybe it was time to call Mom. I was sure she could shed some light on the subject. But not now. It wasn’t a good idea to stay on the phone for too long. I didn’t know who might be watching me. It was time to head to my apartment, anyway. Time to take a shower and change so I could meet Cleo.
Cleo…
Thinking about her made me smile. No teeth showing, though; I remembered her warning. The circumstances were far from ideal, we were mired up in some pretty serious stuff, and Raymond could be in grave danger again—maybe even dead this time. In spite of it all, I couldn’t wait to see her.
****
My apartment phone rang as I was heading out my front door, but I ignored it. I’d taken enough time to shower and change out of my hobo clothes into something more conducive to nighttime surveillance, but there was no time for chit-chat. If it was important, they’d leave a message or call back.
Before the fourth ring had even finished, my cell phone started vibrating. Wow! Someone was sure being persistent. I glanced at the screen. Mom. Better late than never, I guess. I unlocked my car door and slid inside before answering. “You’re late.” I scolded as I wheeled out of my parking space.
“You already know.” She sounded deflated.
“Mm-hmm. What took you so long?”
Silence crackled on the other end of the line before she finally asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yup.”
“You sound okay.”
“That’s because I am, Mom.” I laughed.
Another silence crackled. “You’ve met someone.”
How did she do that? Were all mothers equipped with special radar when it came to their kids? Some sort of device that was able to read mood variations via voice over the telephone? Or maybe it was just my mother. “I guess there’s no sense in my denying it. You’d see right through me. Yes, I’ve met someone, but it’s complicated.”
“Complicated? How?”
“I met her as a result of the story I’m working on for the paper, and it’s just taken an unexpected turn.”
“The story or the relationship?” She laughed.
“The story. She doesn’t know about the relationship, yet.”
“But you’re going to tell her, right?”
“Yes, Mom, but not yet. Like I said…it’s complicated.”
“Can I give you a piece of advice, Jonas?”
“If I said no, would it stop you?”
“Has it ever stopped me before?” she laughed.
“Exactly. Go ahead, before you burst.”
“It’s just this…tell her soon, son.”
“Right.”
“And Jonas…?”
“Yeah?”
“This story you’re working on? The one for the paper? I don’t know, but I’ve got a feeling that there’s danger involved?”
“No fishing, Mom.”
“You just answered my question. I don’t want to know any details. It’s easier for me not to know. Just please…do me a favor and be careful. I told you, I need more grandbabies, and you can’t give them to me if you’re not around.”
“Right. I got it. Gotta go.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Cleo
When I saw what he was wearing I couldn’t help grinning. We were identical! Well…what we wore was identical. He looked so much better than I could ever hope to, but it was nice to know I’d chosen the right outfit.
I managed the stairs without stumbling over my feet, but when I reached the bottom and looked up into his eyes, my bones sort of jellied. He seemed even better looking than the last time I’d seen him, even with the two-day growth of beard darkening his face. He’d be returning undercover later tonight, and that’d kept him from shaving. My fingertips were tingling with the desire to stroke along his jaw, across his chin, over his lips…
I fisted my hands. Whoa… I needed to keep those kinds of thoughts under a tighter rein. My eyes went back to his and locked in place. His gaze was warm…like melted chocolate. Too warm! I fought off the sudden desire to fling myself at him. What was happening to me? I’d never felt like this before. I pulled at the neck of my sweater, feeling a trickle of sweat slide down my back, between my shoulder blades. Had Minnie been messing with the thermostat again?
Minnie!
I whipped around and there she stood in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed under her quadruple-D chest, brows raised over eyes that missed nothing, wearing an “it’s about time you got yourself a man” smirk. I felt my cheeks grow hot under her scrutiny. “Where’s Lily,” I asked in a panic, afraid she’d say something else mortifying, and hoping my question would throw her off-track.
“Upstairs. Said she was tired…something about walking around too much today.”
My diversion tactic seemed to have worked, and I breathed a little easier. “Oh, yeah, she did…all the way to the river and back. Ended up with a blister. I hope she didn’t over-do it.”
“She’ll be fine. Just needs a little rest before dinner. She’s one tough lady.” Minnie’s gesture included Jonas. “When you two gonna be back?”
I shrugged, but he answered before I could open my mouth. “We shouldn’t be too late. This is probably pointless anyway, but I can’t think of a better idea, so we’
ll try it and see what happens.”
She beetled her brow at him. “I ’spect you to make sure nothing happens to Miz Cleo. You understand what I’m saying to you, son?”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”
“Well, all right then. C’mere, youngun.” She motioned me over.
Wrapping me in a bone-crushing hug, she whispered in my ear, “Please be careful, child. I got a bad feeling ’bout this.”
Her lapse into her old way of speaking showed me how distressed she really was. Though both of my arms were mostly pinned, I managed to pat her clumsily on the back. “It’ll be okay, Minnie. Don’t worry.”
****
“I’ve been thinking…” Jonas began, as soon as we were in his car. “…what do you say to us checking out the alley again before heading out to the truck stop? I know we probably have a better chance of winning the lottery…twice…than we do of something actually happening there again, but my gut is telling me to go there first. What do you think?”
What did he expect me to say? His idea would provide me with the perfect excuse to sit all squashed up next to him for as long as we were there. It was a no-brainer. “Sounds like a plan!” I agreed, feeling very much like a half-grown puppy, eagerly prancing back and forth; waiting for the ball or Frisbee to be thrown. It’s how I felt. I hoped I didn’t look like that.
“Okay, then…let’s roll.”
****
Just minutes later, we were pulling into the same spot behind the real estate office we’d parked the night of Raymond’s rescue. Had it really been two nights ago? In one way, it seemed like last night, but then again, so much had happened in the past couple of days, it seemed much longer. The engine went silent.
“Sit still,” he ordered and then got out of the car.
I was confused, but I did as I was told. As soon as his door shut, his dark clothes camouflaged him completely, blending him so perfectly into the pitch blackness of the alley that he seemed to disappear, making me jump when he tapped on my window. I scrambled for the unlock button, and he swung my door open, reaching for my hand and pulling me out. He didn’t let go.