Sleight

by Tom Twitchel

  It felt like the first time I’d volunteered to give my Aunt’s cat a bath. I’d known it wouldn’t be easy but I’d been unprepared for the fanged and clawed tornado that had tried to rip the skin off my arms and face.

  “Got it,” I said.

  “Do you? Because be warned Benjamin. I will not engage in this type of scolding again. You choose to move on a foolishly dangerous quest without the counsel of others, and I mean me, then I will wash my hands of you.”

  “If I’m so important don’t you have to work with me no matter what? I mean, if it’s not Mr. G then aren’t I your only hope?”

  He sighed angrily. “You’ve watched too many movies. There is always another answer, another leader. Perhaps not the first, best choice, but an option nonetheless. Do not flatter yourself. It does not suit you.”

  I guess that should have put me in my place. Only it didn’t, not completely. I could feel the color rising in my cheeks again. “You’re not my dad, uncle or even Mr. G. So I’ll buy in to you advising me, but...”

  “But what?” he asked, his tone level and his mouth tight.

  “Give me some help here! If you know I’m struggling with trying to figure it all out, give me some help.”

  “Benjamin that is exactly what I am attempting to do. Do you think that I believe that your entire intention was merely to have those two cretins incarcerated?” The tiniest quirk of his lower lip suggested a smile fighting its way up from the depths.

  “What do you mean?” But I was pretty sure I knew what he meant.

  The smile that had been trying to emerge faded. “I haven’t the faintest how you intended to do it, but I would guess that your little escapade was designed to flush out information as to where Harald’s former bride is hiding. Yes?”

  Maddy had been able to do this trick of intuiting what was going on in my head; but with him I was guessing that it was more than that. “Is that one of your knacks? Mind reading?”

  “Not exactly. Not nearly as precise as you might suspect, or I might wish.” The tension that had been holding him ramrod straight in the chair seemed to diffuse. He leaned against the back of the chair and crossed one leg over the other.

  “Benjamin, we can attack these issues separately or we can prepare for them together. Which do you prefer?”

  I squirmed uncomfortably on the bed. “Uh, together.”

  “Right then. Let’s get down to the nitty gritty. How were you planning on discovering Sonja’s whereabouts?”

  Well that was blunt. “There was something that Dell said when I was eavesdropping on him and Tank. He referred to where she lived as a fancy condo. There are a lot of condos in the waterfront area but only a few that would qualify as super fancy. I was going to have a friend do some digging to see which one of those properties had a single woman renting out a penthouse.”

  He threw an arm over the back of the chair, and crossed his legs. “And how pray, did you determine that she would choose a penthouse location?”

  I couldn’t resist a smirk. “Ego. She’s arrogant. Sees herself as better than. She’d like being high above everyone else.”

  He nodded in appreciation. “Possibly, possibly. This friend of yours that’s going to do some ‘digging’…I think I might be able to speed that part of your research along.”

  “Yeah? How?” I asked.

  Waggling a finger at me he said, “Trade secrets Benjamin. I may be retired but my skills are still more than up to the task. Why do you believe that the condominium would be located down by the water?”

  “Dell said it was a waterfront building. It could be anywhere on the sound but I figured the most likely spot would be close to where she worked before. The downtown CPS branch.”

  “Hmm. Let me look into that.” His eyes were half closed while he seemed to consider whether my hunch was correct.

  “There’s something else.” I said. “When I was watching yesterday, Dell was able to get into the apartment building with no problem. We need to do something about that. I forgot that Sonja had rented an apartment without Mr. G knowing about it. She must have given him a keycard.”

  “Yes, that was an oversight. I’ll have Mr. Giacomo change the key codes.”

  His take charge approach had initially irritated me but now I felt much less stressed than I had been in days. It felt good to have someone else sharing the burden.

  “What’s our first step?” I asked, shifting my weight on the bed.

  His eyes flicked back in my direction. “First, let’s discuss perspective and preparation.” I nodded as he cleared his throat apparently preparing to ‘school’ me. “Your enterprising nature is admirable Benjamin, but what you did yesterday amounts to what my generation would call ‘going off half-cocked’. Let’s allow our adversaries to make errors of that type. Luring them into an ambush wasn’t a necessarily bad idea, but the execution was poor.”

  I chafed at the criticism, but held my tongue.

  “Since you are comfortable with baiting them we will play to their belief that you are unaware of their efforts. They likely to be more aggressive since their first attempt failed. I recommend that you return to your apartment to reassure them that nothing is amiss. Hopefully they will see your absence yesterday as just bad luck on their part.”

  “What about Breno? The big guy, Tank, said they would do a twofer. Won’t they wait until he’s back in his place too?”

  Uncrossing his legs he leaned forward at the waist and clasped his hands. “I have a plan for that. The second issue is Sonja. She is the true target. The two you engaged with are merely the means of acquiring the target. She will not come to us without significant motivation; and incapacitating her hunters will only result in her recruiting new ones. What we need is a scenario where the reward for her outweighs the risk. But we will need to pick a neutral location. She won’t engage us near her residence and she won’t revisit your apartment or the warehouse.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “She won’t risk a second loss on familiar soil, and she won’t want a confrontation close to home. Predators don’t hunt near their lair, and they don’t return to an area where they’ve been injured.”

  I thought about his choice of words: ‘acquiring the target’, ‘familiar soil’. My early suspicions about his having a military background came crawling back. The assumptions and the level of certainty he had about all of it, made me curious. “How do you know?”

  “Because it is how I would think if I were in her position.”

  Raising an eyebrow he went on. “Now, there are a few additional matters for us to discuss.”

  I nodded.

  “The associate I contacted locally couldn’t help me. He recommended another practitioner, coincidentally someone with whom I already have a...relationship. It is a stroke of luck. I had need for reaching out to this other regardless. The initial assessment is positive.”

  “And you can trust these people because...?”

  He stared back at me with a blank expression. “They’re Naturals.”

  I couldn’t help but be amazed. “How many other Naturals are there in Seattle?”

  He spread his hands. “I really couldn’t say, but I’m thinking that your real question is how many do I know personally.”

  “Yeah, that.”

  “So, the answer is a few. We don’t keep a database for what should be obvious reasons. Our communities tend to operate like cells. Individuals in one small group know one or two individuals in another group. No one knows all of the groups in any given city, although there are ways to make contact.”

  My mind reeled. How could Mr. Goodturn have thought it was right to keep all of this from me?

  Kenwoode raised a hand, basically shutting down an emotional response.

  “Harald was probably trying to be careful with how much he told you. It’s easy to overwhelm someone who is just realizing who and what they are, let alone revealing the bigger picture prematurely.”

  I clenched my hands into f
ists and scowled at him. As much sense as that made it also made me feel like I was being treated like a child. “He should have told me.” I said tersely.

  “Benjamin, is that line of thinking really productive? Didn’t Harald, by your own witness, provide for you in several ways? He thought he was protecting you.”

  “Yeah, and look what it got him!” I spat.

  Dropping his eyes for a moment, he collected himself and then spoke carefully, “Water under the bridge my young friend. If you are going to get caught up in all of the complexities of your relationship with Harald, and me, then we’re not going to be successful in our effort to neutralize Sonja. Nor will we be successful in ferreting out the Shade organization.”

  He had a point. I didn’t have the luxury of indulging my wounded pride.

  “Okay,” I mumbled.

  “With the help of my other contact I was able to complete my research into your friend, Justine. It is potentially very good news.”

  I thought I could use some good news right about now. “Yeah? What’s that?”

  He stretched his arms out and re-crossed his legs. “Her ability is very similar to Sonja’s. The fact that she was able to break off her influence, out of concern for you, means that it isn’t the wild attribute that turned Sonja into a rogue. It is a pure and untainted version of the attribute, and that may be our good fortune.”

  “How?” I asked, confused as to how a knack that I had been told was purely destructive could be helpful.

  “The ability that she possesses is rare and of a more refined nature than others I’ve met that have it. Harald’s attributes are similar in that respect. Yours are capable of more dramatic physical effects but less delicate. With proper coaching she can become an accomplished healer.” His whole attitude changed while he was describing Justine’s knack. He was excited.

  His explanation left an unanswered question. “Where would Justine get this coaching? From who?”

  “The colleague I mentioned is the only Natural I know that has this rare difference. It would be that person who could open Miss Winters’ difference.”

  That all sounded pretty encouraging. Breno’s anxiety attack seemed to have abated. Justine’s knack, while initially scary might prove to be a blessing. And the biggest win was getting what seemed like some seriously experienced help nailing Sonja and her crew. So why did I feel anxious?

  I mentally switched gears back to our strategy for tracking her down. “What are we going to do next to set up Dell and Tank and get information on where Sonja is hiding?”

  Uncrossing his legs Mr. Kenwoode got slowly to his feet. He placed a hand at the small of his back and stretched. Watching him I wondered how his old bones were going to hold up to any kind of secret mission.

  “You need to return to your apartment. I’ve cobbled together a plan for making them believe Mr. Giacomo has returned to his as well. An associate of mine will follow the lead you gave me for Sonja’s possible whereabouts. I’ll set up an a counter measure for your stalkers and you...will promise to confer with me before working off script. Agreed?”

  On the one hand it felt great to have someone share the load, on the other I bristled at being told what to do. Ultimately I had to accept the fact that he was better informed than I was on basically every issue we were confronting.

  “When would this guy, your colleague, be able to start helping Justine?” I asked.

  Walking stiffly to my door he paused as he opened it, “Oh, straight away. As soon as Miss Winters has assuaged her parents’ concern we can begin.”

  I was surprised. I’d thought this person he was referring to was far away. “Is your friend right here in Seattle?”

  He stepped into the hall and turned back to me. “Associate, definitely not a friend, although we know each other well. No, not a Seattle resident.”

  “Well how is he getting here then?”

  “I sent a ticket.” He checked his watch. “In point of fact I’m headed to the airport right now. We’ll be back in a few hours. And it’s ‘she’ not ‘he’ Benjamin. My associate is a woman.”

  My mother had all sorts of quaint country-ish sayings that she would offer. To quote her I would have to say that Kenwoode certainly didn’t let the grass grow under his feet. He was putting things together fast.

  After Kenwoode left I sat there for a minute and tried to collect my thoughts. Our conversation had simplified a lot of my worries.

  Pulling on a hoodie and slipping on a pair of shoes I went down the hall to check in on Mr. Goodturn and Breno. Mr. G was unchanged, and Breno wasn’t in his room so I headed to the kitchen. I found him there stuffing toaster waffles into his mouth. Syrup drips and crumbs competed for space on the table in front of him.

  “Better clean that up before you leave or Mr. Kenwoode will skin you.” I laughed.

  His eyes bulged and he bobbed his head furiously.

  “I’m going out. I don’t think you should leave the apartment. Okay?”

  More head bobbing followed by another impressive mouthful of waffle.

  Smiling and shaking my head I left and made my way back downstairs to the pawn shop.

  I fought off more feelings of guilt as I walked through the shop and out onto the street. I had no intention of opening it to the public over the weekend and that would mean being closed for almost a full week. It was hard to imagine any day in the coming week where I could open it because of my return to school. Kenwoode and I would have to decide how to handle it, hire someone or post a sign that the shop was temporarily closed. I was pretty sure where that discussion would lead.

  When I got out to the street I turned toward my building and saw Breno opening the door to the apartment lobby and walking inside. I’d just seen him upstairs and he hadn’t been in the elevator with me. The only other exits or entrances to the building housing the pawnshop and Mr. G’s suite was a set of stairs that was rarely used and the fire escape which had to be accessed from the roof or an alley window.

  Curious as to how he’d beaten me to the sidewalk I ran to catch up. When I got to the lobby entrance I could see him fumbling with his keys at his apartment door.

  “Breno! Wait up!” I called as I hurried down the short hall.

  Instead of turning toward me, he turned away, leaving me with a view of his back while he tried to open the door.

  He was trying to avoid me. The hair on my neck prickled.

  “Breno, wait up. How did you get down here so fast?” I asked as he opened the door and darted quickly inside.

  I got to the door just as he was trying to slam it shut.

  Sticking my foot in between the door and the frame I said, “Hey, what the—” Which was as far as I got before I got a good look at his face and realized it wasn’t Breno.

  Heavy brows in a big angry face drew down into a scowl, as two strong hands shot out and pulled me into the apartment.

  TWENTY-ONE: BAD MANNERS

  PANICKED I DUG under my hoodie for my stunner as the big goon who had dragged me into the apartment pushed me against the door and held me there. I tried to use my knack to get free but he easily deflected my hands and pulled the stun gun away from me. Gripping it in one huge hand he frowned at it.

  “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll let you use this on me,” he growled.

  I tried to jam my knee into his crotch but he deftly turned his body and my knee glanced off his heavily muscled thigh.

  “Stop. Calm down. Preston sent me!” he said sharply.

  “Who’s Preston?” I wheezed, as his forearm pressed hard against my throat, my feet barely touching the floor.

  His mouth twisted in irritation and another emotion that confused me. Surprise? Confusion? It felt like I was sensing my own emotions instead of his. “Kenwoode. Preston Kenwoode. Now stop struggling and I’ll let you go. I hope no one saw us in the hall.”

  Confused and trying to understand what was happening I let my arms drop and tried to relax. He took his hands off me and stepped back, holding my st
un gun in front of him. He gave me a quick up and down glance.

  “He said he’d brief you. I’m guessing he didn’t,” he said.

  “Who?” I rasped, rubbing my throat gingerly.

  Rolling his eyes, he said, “Preston. I’m pretending to be the guy who lives in this apartment.” He looked down at the stun gun in his hand. “I give this back, you gonna try and use it on me?”

  There only seemed to be one right answer to that. “No.”

  “See that you don’t, or I’ll use it on you.”

  He extended his hand and I grabbed it from him, returning it to its holster. He was the same six foot and an inch or two as Breno, more muscular, but with his hair was mussed up to look like Breno’s. His clothes, which had at first glance looked very similar to Breno’s, were newer, cleaner and less tattered. His jaw was square and he had a high forehead like Breno but the resemblance stopped there. Wide set brown eyes and a well-shaped nose topped a strong mouth and chin. He was probably popular with the ladies when he wasn’t busy roughing up teenaged boys.

  “You’re working for Kenwoode?”

  Smirking, he took a step back but didn’t turn his back to me, as he casually looked around the interior of the apartment. “Sort of. I owe him. He needed someone to hang out so that it looks like the guy that lives here is still in residence.”

  The way he scanned the apartment made it clear that he was appraising it strategically. He nodded to himself and then chucked his chin at me.

  “Here’s the deal kid: I’ll be here for a few days. My main purpose is window dressing and to back the two of you if necessary, but I’m taking my cues from Preston. Stay out of my way and when we do cross paths behave as though I’m your dimwitted friend. Do that and everything should work out fine.”