“Having a good time.”
“If it’s that obvious, why are you asking?” Mason smiled.
Rhyne yanked him closer. “You are making me very nervous. I swear, Mason, if you are working as a snitch, I will find out.”
Mason folded his arms. “What are you going to do?”
“Beating people up isn’t terribly effective, Mason. Do you know why?”
“Because I could beat you up afterward?”
“It’s the fear of being beat up that’s effective. It’s like saying you fear death. People don’t fear death. When you die, you’re dead. People fear dying. It’s not what’s down in the dark basement. It’s what people think is down in the dark basement that causes them to run up the stairs.”
Mason glanced around with a worried look. “Are you trying to tell me you’re going to beat me up in a dark basement?”
Rhyne rolled his eyes. Mason wouldn’t be waxing philosophical anytime soon.
“Never mind. Just focus, would you? We’re here to do business.”
Mason grinned. “I know. I just met Shannon, the brunette, and she drives a station wagon.”
“Really?”
Mason nodded.
Rhyne saw her through the crowd and smiled, then looked back at Mason. “Well done.”
Chapter 14
Jesse spent a restless night at the UC house. Back in Henderson, there had been a lot fewer rules, a lot less supervising, and lot more trust. Now he was working on a task force with lots of boundaries and even more inexperience. But Tony Ramone could handle it
The rest of the team planned to show up at noon, so Jesse got up in time to fix himself a breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast. Before he took his first bite, the front door opened, and Mack walked in. She looked surprised to see him.
“What are you doing here?” Jesse asked.
“I thought I should unload some stuff. I brought some groceries and a few outfits I bought yesterday.” She looked down at herself.
Apparently she was wearing one. Or trying to. A cardigan partly covered a tucked-in tank top, and a denim skirt hit just above the knee.
“What?” she asked.
“Its just … it’s not right. Too much prep school and not enough … uh, vamp.” Jesse groaned, shoving his plate out of the way. “What sector did you patrol?”
“Northeast.”
“I can’t figure it out,” Jesse said. “You don’t fit the UC profile. How’d you get in? Get noticed? There are tons of guys itching to get into UC work.”
She tried to look like she wasn’t bothered. “The way everyone else makes it. By slacking off and wearing khaki.”
“Funny. Maybe they’re worried about demographics. Between you and Lamar, we’ve got every demographic covered.”
“What demographic do you represent?”
“One of two cops who actually belong here.” He gestured toward her. “Do you have any idea what a poor impression you make as a bad guy?”
“That’s because I’m a girl.”
“You look like you should be going to Mass.”
Mack dug into a bag she was carrying and pulled out lipstick. “Maybe this will help.”
“I think you’re beyond help.”
“I bought everything I need,” she said, peering into her bag. “Eye shadow, eyeliner, blush, mascara, and red lipstick.”
“Terrific.”
“So, are you going to help me or not?”
“Help you what?”
“Use this stuff. If Cassie were here, she could help, but she’s not, so …”
Jesse looked down at his untouched food, then up at her. “Help you with … your makeup?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you mean? And who is Cassie?”
“She’s my sister. And I mean show me how to put it on.”
“You don’t know how to put on makeup?”
“If I tried, I would look like a clown. Literally.” She looked serious.
Fantastic. “Can you juggle, too? It might be a nice distraction when our cover is blown.”
Mack turned noticeably red. “I can play the part.”
“You can start by cutting four inches off that skirt and losing the cardigan.”
“Fine. But I really do need help with the makeup. You’ll just have to show me once. I’m a quick learner.”
Jesse felt a headache coming on. “What makes you think I know how?”
“Surely you’ve seen a woman put makeup on.”
“Fine. Let’s get this over with.” He walked into the bathroom and flipped on the light. Jesse grabbed the bag out of her hands and dumped the cosmetics on the counter. Mack watched him from the doorway. Truthfully, he didn’t really know what he was doing, either. But surely between the two of them, they could pull it off. He grabbed what he guessed was eye shadow and opened the case. It was blue.
“Put this on first.”
“Okay.” She barely swept the brush across her eyelid.
“How’s that?” she asked.
“I can’t even see it.” He pointed to her hand. “That wand thingy. Spackle it on real thick.”
“Spackle? I’m not painting a wall.”
“Just use short strokes.”
She tried again.
“I still can’t see any color.”
She tried again. He stepped back to observe. “That’s better. At least I can see something.”
“It seems a little … blue.”
“That’s the point, isn’t it?”
“I guess. Now what?”
Jesse stared at the cluster of cosmetics. “That black tube. Isn’t that mascara?”
“Yeah.”
They reached for it at the same time, knocking knuckles. He snatched it off the counter and pulled out the tiny brush. “You put it on your lashes.” He handed it to her. She turned to the mirror, but every time the brush got close, her eyelid twitched erratically. She tried several times before Jesse grabbed it from her. “Just hold still.” But every time he moved in with the brush, she blinked uncontrollably. “Can’t you just hold your eye open for a few seconds?”
“Sorry, I can’t help it,” she said. “It feels like you’re going to poke my eye out.”
“With all that blinking, I might.” He pointed to a pink container. “Maybe that will be easier.”
Mack flipped it over. “Its blush.”
“I know how to do this,” said Jesse. “I watched my mother. You start at the corners of your mouth and go up to your temple in a straight line.”
Mack stared at it.
“With that brush there.”
Mack pulled out what looked like a miniature paintbrush. She swiped it across the blush and then with large strokes brushed the color onto her face in a straight line just like Jesse told her.
“Huh.”
“What?” Mack asked.
“That doesn’t look quite right.”
“It doesn’t?” She peered into the mirror.
“Maybe you need some lipstick.”
Mack held up the tube. “This is not going to be easy.”
“Did you buy a pencil?”
“Why would I need a pencil?”
“That’s how they do it. They draw a line around their mouth so they won’t color outside the line.”
Mack began to look desperate. “Maybe if I’m careful?”
“I guess you could wipe it off if you messed up.”
She removed the lid and after several nervous false starts, finally applied some on her top lip.
“Whoa,” he said.
“What?”
“That’s really … red.”
“Well, that’s what it says on the bottom. Glossy fire-engine red.”
“I can hear the sirens already.
Mack put her hand on her hip. “I don’t need any of your lip right now.”
“No, you’re making quite a statement with your own.”
Jesse heard a truck outside. He lifted the blinds to peer outside.
The driveway was crowded, so Ron parked his truck on the street. His leg was giving him fits despite the four Aleve he’d taken with breakfast. He leaned on his cane and shut the door, trying to shake the kinks out, but it was no use. His leg wanted to stay home on the couch.
“Hello.”
Ron turned to find an old woman peering up at him with a hyena-like smile.
“You must be that sweet girl’s daddy.”
“You have me confused with someone else.”
She stood a little straighter. “Are you related to them? The young man that looks like trouble and his wife who looks as sweet as cream?”
“Who are you?”
“Ruth Butler. I live across the street. I’ve been the president of the neighborhood homeowners’ association since 1976.”
Ron glanced down the street. “ This neighborhood?”
“That’s right.” She moved closer. “I know this is a rental house. All kinds of terrible people have come and gone, and I’ve said good riddance to ’em all.” She gestured toward the cars in the driveway. “So are you his father or hers?”
The front door opened, and Mack hustled down the porch steps. Ron barely recognized her. She looked like she’d just escaped from Cirque du Soleil.
“What happened to you?” Ron asked as he gazed at her upper lip. Her very red upper lip. Which wasn’t to be outdone by her very blue eyelids. Ruth looked curious as well.
“You’ve met Ruth?” Mack asked, trying to smile.
“Just now,” Ron said.
“Is this your father?” Ruth asked.
Mack grabbed his arm. “Yes. Yes it is.”
“Isn’t that sweet,” Ruth said, then gestured toward her face. “Dear heart, what in the world are you doing with all that makeup? You look like you belong at a street corner on the strip.”
Mack couldn’t hide her embarrassment. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just having a little fun.”
“I can see that. But honey, there’s lip gloss and then there’s Crisco. You’re not getting ready to fry yourself in a pan, are you? Blot, honey. Always blot. And as much as I like blue, I’m surprised you can hold your eyelids up with that much on.” She reached out and grabbed Mack’s face. “You look like you’ve been slapped. What happened to you? Where’s that lovely pink cardigan you were wearing?”
Ron saw the panic in Mack’s eyes and said, “We’re throwing a costume party in a few weeks. Mack was thinking about going as … as …”
“A hooker?” Ruth offered.
“See!” Ron slapped his hands together. “I told you it would work.”
Ruth scooted closer to Ron. “Do you need a date?”
Ron’s face flushed. “No thanks. My wife is going.”
“Ah.” She sighed. “The good ones are always taken. Or they don’t live long enough. Been married three times and thanks to a love for donuts, french fries, or water-skiing, none of them made it past seventy.” She looked at the cars in the driveway again. “Just don’t get in a habit of parking on the street or in your front lawn. It’s fine if you’re throwing a party, but cars belong in a driveway.” She turned toward her house. “Good to meet you. I best be going. It’s almost time for tea. Care to join me?”
“No thanks,” Ron and Mack said together. Ron followed Mack into the house and they both went directly to the kitchen for a drink of water.
“What was that?” Ron asked.
“That was Ruth Butler. She thinks we’re a family moving in, and she wants to make sure we keep our lawn mowed and our—”
Dozer walked in the front door and nodded his head toward the window. “The last time I checked, it wasn’t illegal to park on the curb, but you wouldn’t know it in this neighborhood.”
Ron and Jesse laughed.
“You’ve met Ruth,” Mack said.
“Yeah. Lucky for me, Kyle pulled up, and I ran inside.”
Everyone glanced out the window for a moment before Jesse groaned. “This lady is going to give me a—”
Suddenly the front door swung open, and Kyle rushed in looking panicked, overdressed, and surprisingly tan in his white Miami Vice blazer. His eyes held a wild shock. Ron was just about to tell him to breathe when Kyle said, “I might’ve blown it.”
“Blown what?” Jesse asked.
Kyle shut the front door and closed the curtains to the street-facing window. “She just caught me off guard. I parked on the street because there was no room in the driveway, and the next thing I know, well …” He was gesturing as if his hands might do the talking. “I realize she’s little and old and a lady, but … but …”
“But she threatened to mothball you to death?” Dozer asked with a smirk.
Kyle tried to hold a steady expression. “She asked me if I was related to the woman who couldn’t put on makeup.”
Jesse glanced at Mack. “I told you to use lip liner.”
Kyle kept babbling. “I was confused because then she invited me over for Earl Grey—at first I thought she was talking about her husband, and it took me a second to realize she was talking about tea—and then she asked if I planned on getting my ears pierced too.”
Jesse looked at Ron. “He can’t even handle an old lady. ”
Ron held up his hands. “Settle down. Ruth is the least of my concerns right now. As long as you didn’t tell her we’re undercover officers, everything is fine.”
Ron had seen a lot of people go pale—usually when he pulled out his badge or gun—but none had ever gone quite as pale as Kyle.
“You told her?” Wiz asked.
Kyle threw up his hands defensively. “She was berating me with questions! I think she already knew. She asked if anyone else was going dressed as a hooker, and I told her I would probably be disguised as a pimp.”
Ron slapped his hands to his face. “Is that all you said?”
“No.” Kyle looked mortified. “She was fretting that criminals were moving in next door so I was trying to reassure her.”
“What did you say?” Jesse asked.
“That we … you … I mean, we are, you know, officers.”
“Why did you do that?” Jesse roared. “The Las Vegas police department doesn’t even know where we are located. Why would you tell a citizen?”
Ron’s plan to use Kyle to help the officers cope with less-than-perfect circumstances was turning into a liability. And now he was going to have to deal with Ruth. Again.
Jesse’s disapproving stare found Ron across the room. Ron kept an even expression. If Kyle were really a cop, it would indeed be a nightmare, but he still wanted to see how Jesse would handle the situation.
Uneasiness simmered in the air.
Ron gripped his cane. “Okay, I’m going to go over and talk to Ruth. I’m going to explain the situation, spout some legalese to make sure she understands she can’t tell anybody about us. In the meantime, I want you all to review this folder. It details our plan of action. When I get back, we’ll go over specifics and then talk about some of the training exercises we’ll be doing for the next week.”
Jesse looked genuinely exasperated with it all. Ron recognized his expression. It felt like watching a younger version of himself. This was agony for Jesse Lunden. And ultimately good for him too. Kyle’s disruption would teach this team to work together under the worst circumstances. Ron just hoped it wouldn’t get any worse than this.
Chapter 15
Jesse felt like punching something. In all his years working undercover, this was the most ridiculous mess he’d ever seen. Old Man Ron had lost his mind. The guy was whacked out. Wiz looked like he might work out, but Mack and Kyle? These two were a danger to the team’s safety.
“He made an honest mistake.”
Mack moved toward Kyle.
“He didn’t mean to,” she added, turning to the other three.
“That’s not the point, Mackenzie,” Jesse said. “We don’t have room to make mistakes. You make a mistake in the middle of an operation, and it could be
the last mistake you’ll make.”
“First of all, it’s Mack. I don’t want to hear anyone call me Mackenzie again. Secondly, Kyle realizes what he did. There’s no reason to make him feel worse.” She looked at him. “You do feel bad, don’t you?”
Kyle nodded.
“We’re all going to make mistakes,” she continued. “The question is, what are we going to do with those mistakes? Learn from them. That’s what we’re going to do.”
It was hard enough to take Sergeant Yeager and his cane, but with Kyle and Mary Poppins along for the ride, he might as well have been sucked into a black hole.
“There’s not much to learn once a bullet’s in your head,” Jesse said. He rolled his sleeve up, revealing a scar. “I made a mistake. It almost cost me my life. The second bullet hit an artery, and I nearly bled to death. The dealers thought I was already dead or they would’ve put a third one in me.”
“Lucky for us, Ruth isn’t a bad guy,” Mack said.
“You haven’t seen what old people can do with a gun.” He sighed and plopped down at the table, shooting Dozer a look of frustration. Dozer nodded.
Mack said, “Let’s just review these folders.”
Jesse tossed one across the table toward Kyle. “Fine. Unless, of course, Kyle here would like to make copies first and hand them out in Tweekerville tonight.”
Mack’s face started to turn red. Again. “How would you like it if we treated you like this?” she said to Jesse.
“Treated me like what? A cop? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re all cops. We have a standard to live up to. Kyle here isn’t exactly measuring up.”
“You haven’t given him much of a chance.”
“I’m not trying to make friends. I don’t want a liability.”
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Kyle said. “I’m nervous. I didn’t really … I didn’t picture it like this. I’ll do better.”
Jesse opened his folder, hoping they’d both shut up. He read the first few paragraphs and looked up at everyone else around the table.
“A body shop,” Wiz said. “Cool. We’re opening up an undercover body shop.”
A tingling excitement rushed through Jesse. Now this was what he signed up for.
“No ma’am. But thank you.” Ron had already had two cups of tea, and Ruth was on her third as they talked in a sitting room filled with furniture that looked a hundred years old. And indeed it was, as Ruth explained forty-five minutes into the conversation when she told the story of how her father had settled on the very land on which this neighborhood was built.
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