Grab

by Jeff Elkins

  “Nice to meet you, Abraham,” Stacie said.

  Moe crossed to Baba’s side of the table and kissed him on the head. “See you in a few days,” she said as she walked toward the end of the alley.

  “Be safe,” he said, waving his cigar in the air.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Moe and Stacie stood on the sidewalk and looked up at the grand building. Moe marveled at the intricate marble work that filled the inside of the building’s five archways. The Equitable Building, standing nine stories tall, was designed in 1889, to be Baltimore’s first skyscraper. Originally the home to gardens, offices, a billiard room, and a Turkish bath, in 2013, it was gutted and turned into luxury condos. Adjacent to the two Baltimore city courthouses and only a block from City Hall, it was the perfect location for a covert FBI field office in Baltimore.

  “How do we find them in there?” Stacie asked.

  “Maybe we just go door to door?” Moe said with a grin.

  Stacie playacted the possible conversation. “Knock, knock. Hi, yeah. We’re private detectives and looking for this super-hot blond FBI agent, who we think might be hanging out at a secret FBI HQ here.”

  Pretending to hold a shotgun, Moe responded with a fake southern accent, “Y’all better get up off my property, before I shoot you in the ass.”

  “Look, Moe,” Stacie said, interrupting the scene. “It’s in my contract that if anyone on screen is going to refer to my ass, it must be accompanied by the adjectives hot, juicy, or sweet. Okay?”

  “I’m so sorry, Ms. Howe. It will never happen again,” Moe pleaded.

  A deep male voice from behind them said, “Juicy may be a stretch.”

  “Oh shit!” Moe said, spinning around and taking a step back.

  The man standing before them was tall and fit with broad shoulders. His short hair and perfectly trimmed beard were black with flecks of grey, giving him a look of newly aged wisdom. The suit he wore was beautifully tailored and his black tie had an impossibly perfect knot. He stood five inches taller than either Stacie or Moneta.

  “Well, hello,” Stacie said, holding out her hand to be kissed.

  Moneta grabbed her friend’s arm and pulled her back. “Don’t let him touch you,” she said glaring at the man.

  “What? Why?” Stacie asked with disappointment.

  “Because he’ll read your mind,” Moe said, giving the man her best death-stare.

  The man laughed. “Robert Watkins. FBI.” From the interior breast pocket of his coat, he produced a business card. Stacie took it gingerly, making sure not to make contact with his skin.

  Looking at the card, Stacie said, “Moe, do all your brothers look like this?”

  “How’d you find me?” Moe said.

  “Baba told me to meet you here,” Robert said.

  “He said he hadn’t heard from you,” Moe said, her blood boiling.

  “You know Baba lies. I have breakfast with him at that stupid diner every Monday,” Robert said dismissively.

  “So you relive memories too?” Stacie said, tucking the card into her back pocket.

  “No,” Robert said with a smile.

  “We all see something different. He gets your last 48 hours,” Moe explained, still glaring at him.

  “Bet that’s handy, as an FBI agent,” Stacie said.

  “It helps. I’m not as gifted as Little Moe. What she can do would really make a difference. I mean, think about it. Being able to see all a perp’s memories.”

  “I have a job,” Moe said, defensively.

  Robert continued talking to Stacie as if Moe wasn’t there. “I keep trying to convince her to stop taking pictures for rich people and come join real law enforcement. Do some good with her gifts. But she’d rather play detective.”

  Stacie put her arm around her friend. “Moe is amazing at what she does and she helps people. Not like you, you government-drone-pig, selling out to the man. Oink oink.”

  Robert cocked his head to the side, raised his eyebrows, and with a look asked Stacie if she wanted to take back what she’d said.

  Moe let go a small laugh and said quietly to Stacie, “Thank you, but that may be too far.” Resetting her stern face for her brother, Moe said, “What do you want, Robert?”

  “Look, Baba just told me to meet you here. I don’t know anything else,” he said.

  “We need to talk to one of your agents,” Moe relented.

  “What’s it about?” Robert asked.

  “I’m not at liberty to say,” Moe said.

  “If you can’t tell me what it’s about then I can’t help you,” Robert asked.

  “Attorney-Client Privilege,” Moe said.

  “Earlier you said ‘hot blond.’ That narrows it down,” Robert said, thinking. “It’s either Jones or Matthews. And Jones is just on support right now, so it must be Matthews. Last I saw her, she was heading out. Come on, if we hurry we can catch her at her car.”

  They followed Robert north on Calvert Street, half-running to keep up with his long strides. As they passed a tall statue in the middle of the road that commemorated a battle in 1814, they spotted the blonde agent across the street.

  “That’s her,” Moe said, pointing at the woman getting in her car. She was either wearing the same suit as yesterday, or she had a closet full of them.

  “Matthews,” Robert yelled, waving to his co-worker, but the agent didn’t hear him. Getting into her car, she slammed the door closed.

  Robert stepped into the street and waved, “Matthews,” he called again.

  A rush of wind hit them before the sound of the explosion. With a burst of flames, the blond agent’s car exploded. The giant fireball launched into the air, flipped, and landed upside down.

  Moe instinctively shielded her face with her arms. People were screaming and running. Robert’s eyes were wide with fear. He was yelling into his phone, “Agent down! Corner of Calvert and Lexington! Agent down!”

  Robert grabbed Moe by the arm. “What did you get yourself into?” he demanded. Not giving her a chance to answer, he continued barking orders. “Go home! Stay there until I come and get you!” Then, he turned and ran toward the blast.

  Moe looked at Stacie. Her mouth hung open as she stared at the fire. Moe grabbed her by the arms. “You okay?” she said.

  Continuing to look at the fire, Stacie said, “I… I think I’m okay. I’m okay.”

  Moe tugged her back the way they’d come. “We have to go,” she said.

  “Yeah, okay,” Stacie said coming out of her shock. Following Moneta, she said, “Where are we going?”

  “We’re going to get to the bottom of this,” Moe said.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Moe and Stacie stood on the hill overlooking the playground. The scene was like two days before. The nannies were all there, standing around the perimeter; children laughed and played on the equipment, and the older woman was there keeping her eye on all of it.

  “How’d you know they’d be here?” Stacie asked.

  “Controlling people demands keeping them on a schedule,” Moe said.

  “Huh?” Stacie said, looking back down at the scene.

  “So here’s the plan. I need five minutes with the nanny that Giuliano was talking to yesterday,” Moe said.

  “So I need to distract momma bear down there,” Stacie said.

  “You up for it?” Moe asked.

  “Oh, you know I am. Wait for the right moment, then move in,” Stacie said.

  Moe walked twenty-yards behind her friend. She wondered what Stacie would do. As Stacie neared the gate to the playground, Moe hung back. Stacie flung open the gate in a rage. Marching across the playground, to Moe’s surprise, Stacie passed the older woman. Stomping over to the nanny closest to the overseer, Stacie smacked the nanny across the face. “You bitch!” Stacie scream as the woman fell to the ground in shock.

  The overseer ran to the young woman to help. Several of the other nannies circled around the children. Stacie loomed over the nanny on the gro
und and screamed, “You leave my husband alone, bitch!”

  Moe moved in. Running onto the playground, she touched the arm of the nanny Giuliano had spoken to yesterday. The woman looked up in horror. His blue eyes were filled with panic. Moe took a deep breath. “Don’t worry. Do me a favor and think of something wonderful,” she said trying to be reassuring. The nanny looked back at her, shrugged, and grinned. Moe moved so she was standing in front of the woman. Taking the woman’s hands, Moe closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensation of joy.

  Moe opened her eyes, and she was running barefoot through a grassy field. Her clothes were wet. They stuck to her body, but she didn’t care. There were white flowers all around. She loved the look of the flowers. Her friend was there, running next to her. They were racing. And laughing. Misha. Her friend’s name is Misha, and Moe’s name is Sasha.

  They slowed as they approached a cliff. Moe had run this path over and over. She’d already run it three times today. She loved it. It was her favorite thing to do. Her favorite thing, in her favorite place, in the whole world. They stopped and she closed her eyes. She loved the warm sun on her face and the feel of the wet grass between her toes. They came to the edge of the cliff. She let her toes hang off the side. The lake below them was blue and smooth. The ripples from their last jump had already faded.

  Moe looked at Misha. Her brown hair was stringy and wet. Moe thought she had the prettiest green eyes. Misha took her hand. “Gotov?” Misha said.

  Her hand was soft and warm. Moe squeezed it, intertwined her fingers, smiled, and nodded. “Gotov,” Moe said. Sasha’s voice was high and gentle and full of excitement.

  They counted together, “Ah-deen. Dvah. Tree!” Moe bent her knees and leaped. The wind rushed up at her forcing her to close her eyes. The water crashed around her. It was cold and exhilarating. She pulled up for air. As her head broke the surface she heard Misha laughing.

  Moe let go and stepped back. She could still feel the cold water around her. She could still hear Misha’s laugh.

  Sasha looked dazed. A smile of recognition came across her lips for a moment and then a stream of excited Russian in the high and gentle voice poured from her mouth as she waved her hands wildly.

  “No, no,” Moe said, trying to calm Sasha down. “I don’t… I can’t understand,” she said.

  “Oh? I’m sorry,” Sasha said. Her Russian accent was thick. “That was amazing. Thank you. Thank you.”

  Moe looked over her shoulder. The overseer had her arms wrapped around Stacie who was kicking and screaming at the young woman on the ground. “What’s going on here? How did you get here?” Moe asked.

  Sasha took Moe’s hands. “I’ll show you,” she said, as she closed her eyes.

  Moe took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let Sasha give her a memory.

  The room was dark and the music was loud. It smelled of beer and sweat. There were people bumping into her, but she didn’t mind. The beat of the song hammered in her chest. She was breathing heavy. She was dancing. There was a drink in her hand. She held it in the air, trying not to spill it as she bounced to the song. How long had she been dancing? An hour? Two? Three? It was late. She was tired, but she didn’t care.

  The song took a turn and purple rays of light filled the club. The crowd screamed with joy. Moe screamed with them. With her free hand, she yanked out the rubber band holding her hair in a ponytail. It fell around her face and she shook it out to the beat of the music. She took a drink from her cup. The liquor was sweet and strong. It burned going down. She crushed the cup in her hand and threw it on the ground. Her hands-free, she jumped to the music, reveling in the beat.

  There was a hand on her arm. It took her by surprise. She turned to see Misha and Nadia. Misha had cut her beautiful hair short. Moe wished she hadn’t. Her hair was so silky and smooth. Moe had protested, but Misha did what Misha wanted to do. Misha yelled something that Moe couldn’t understand over the music. Moe shrugged, taking Misha and Nadia’s hands, she tried to pull her friends into the dance. They pulled back and Misha waved a pack of cigarettes. Moe laughed and followed her friends out of the club.

  They stood on the sidewalk in front of the club. It must have been well after midnight. Moe liked the taste of the smoke in her mouth. She held it, letting the warmth hang in her nose and throat. Nadia tried to blow smoke rings, but only accomplished small clouds. They all laughed at the attempt. Misha dropped her cigarette on the ground and stomped it out with her boot. She asked Moe and Nadia to come back in with her, but Moe was enjoying the evening too much. Nadia denied the request too, making another attempt at rings. The street was quiet, a rare thing in the city and the air was warm. After a long winter, a warm night was something to be savored. Moe smiled and said she’d be in a minute. Misha left them. Moe was thankful for that now. She was happy Misha had gotten away.

  Moe had noticed the brown van parked across the street, but she hadn’t thought anything of it. It looked like another ratty old van. There were thousands of them in the city. She took no notice when it pulled out of its parking spot and drove toward her and Nadia.

  Nadia pointed up at a dim cluster of stars. Moe followed her gaze. There were so few in the city. It was rare to see them in a group. She missed the countryside with its wide and full sky. She took another tug on her cigarette and promised herself that she would go home soon.

  The rest of the memory was a blur. Moe struggled to make sense of what was happening. The van came to a stop in front of them. The door opened. Men jumped out. Nadia screamed. There were hands on her, pulling her. She kicked and tried to scream. They were rough. Nadia’s nose was bleeding. She felt a jab to her stomach. Nadia kicked one of them and escaped for a moment before their hands were on her again. A bag was pulled over Moe’s head. Another jab. Then she was moving and crying, and a van door was closing. She and Nadia wailed together.

  Bracing herself on the young woman in front of her, Moe almost fell over. The world felt like it was spinning. She could still feel the slowness that comes with alcohol. Her mouth tasted like cheap cigarettes. Her heart raced with panic, as she was still partially in the brown van with a bag over her head. She closed her eyes and felt the jab in her ribs. She looked left and saw Misha next to her ready to leap off the cliff into the lake. Her feet were cold from the running in the wet grass. She looked right and saw Nadia attempt smoke rings. She was taking too much at one time. It was all mixing together.

  Moe opened her eyes and looked up. Tears were streaming down Sasha’s cheeks. Moneta wrapped her arms around her and squeezed. “I’m sorry,” Moe whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  Moe took a step back. She looked again to Stacie. Her friend was in a heated discussion with the overseer. Nannies had distracted the children. The woman Stacie had smacked was back on her feet, rubbing her cheek. But Moe hadn’t been caught yet because, much to her surprise, two of the nannies had positioned themselves between Moe and the overseer.

  Moe swallowed back puke. The feeling of the alcohol was fading, but the smoke still consumed every breath. She couldn’t quit. She needed one more thing. She couldn’t leave until she had it.

  Looking Sasha in the eyes, Moe gripped her hands again. “Show me what happened to Nadia,” she said.

  Sasha wiped the tears from her eyes. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and said, “Okay, but it is very bad.”

  Moe closed her eyes and received the memory.

  When she opened them, she was on the front porch of a house with Nadia. She’d been to this house before. It was where they’d brought her when she first arrived in Baltimore. She remembered waking up here, gagged and bound on the floor of the living room. She’d hoped she would never have to come back here.

  A sense of fear rushed through Moe. There was a man standing behind her and Nadia. Moe didn’t have to look to know he was there. She could see his face in her mind. He was always there, his gun in his hand. They didn’t know his name, but they called him Psoglavac after the dog demon with iron
teeth. Moe knew his smile, the one he got when one of the Kingsington Life nannies misbehaved. He’d hit Moe more than once. Other men with guns came and went, but Psoglavac was always there.

  Nadia and Moe stepped into the house. They didn’t speak. They knew better. They’d learned that the less they resisted the faster it would be over. They shuffled through the entry hall to the left where a living room should have been. The house was empty except for the small circle of chairs in this room. Moe wanted to take Nadia’s hand. She wanted to hug her and weep, but they knew that would only increase the pain they were about to feel. Instead, they sat down in chairs next to one another.

  Moe didn’t dare look up at Psoglavac. She studied the hardwood floors. Moe thought about her house back home. Carpet was special there. Only the wealthiest had it, but here things were the opposite. Here everyone pulled their carpet up for hardwood. Moe tried to hold on to memories like that.

  The sound of heels clicked on the floor and Moe’s heart raced. She sat up straight. A thin woman in a black skirt stepped into the room. Caroline. Sasha didn’t know her name, but Moe knew. It was Caroline.

  Caroline snapped her fingers. At the command, Moe and Nadia looked up. “Ladies, we’ve had a grave indiscretion,” Caroline said. “One of you has committed a terrible act.”

  Moe swallowed. She wished Nadia hadn’t have involved her. It was during a play date at her house when Nadia left the children with her and disappeared upstairs with the man. She saw the moment in her mind. Stupid girl. What had she been thinking? Now they were both going to pay for it.

  “You must never flirt with your patron,” Caroline said. She was pacing the room, staring down at them.

  “You must never tempt your patron,” she said, pausing in front of Moe. Moe looked at the floor, praying Caroline would move on. All she’d done was watch the kids. All she’d done was what she had been ordered to do.