by Nic Saint
He sat her down on the sidewalk while the rest of the team marched into the house. “Take it easy, Yvonne. I know you’ve had quite a shock, but just try to tell me slowly and clearly what happened, all right?”
After she’d finished recounting the tale of how they’d broken into Grant’s house, and the weirdness of the spinning black box, he frowned darkly. This sounded a lot like Grant knew even more about their operation than they’d anticipated. And he was clearly targeting them with this black box contraption.
“Don’t worry, Yvonne. We’ll take care of this. Right now, we need to take you and your family to a safe place, all right?”
Yvonne looked up, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Safe place? We’re not going anywhere, Matt.”
“But your house was just bombed. You can’t stay here.”
She raised her chin defiantly, and his heart sank. He hadn’t known her long, but he recognized the gesture. “We’re staying right here, Matt. Assenheimers have lived in this house since the first Assenheimer arrived to seek his fortune, and no Oswin Grant is going to drive us away.” She sniffed. “Besides. We’re having pot roast tonight. And I’m starving.”
Just then, an older woman started yelling at them from behind the barricade at the end of the street.
“Yoo-hoo! V!”
Yvonne waved back. “Mom!”
“It’s all right, Franklin!” hollered Matt. “You can let her pass!”
He was surprised to find Mrs. Assenheimer of delicate build. Compared to Yvonne, he would even call her petite.
Breathless, she came trotting up. “What happened? Why is there police everywhere?” Then she noticed two burly team members exiting the house, carrying a black box and a garden gnome in their hands. Consternation took possession of Mrs. Assenheimer. “V? Did something happen to our house?”
“You better sit down, Mom.”
Yvonne’s mother plunked down, eyes wide and lips trembling. “What? Did somebody… die?”
Yvonne nodded gravely. “Betty and Bessy.”
Mrs. Assenheimer closed her eyes, clearly horrified. “Those poor animals.”
Matt, feeling out of his depth, decided to leave mother and daughter to mourn the demise of their chickens in solitude, and joined the two guys checking out the black box and garden gnome. They’d placed the seemingly innocuous objects on the hood of the SUV and stood staring at it with puzzled expressions on their faces.
Matt picked up the black box, and turned it over in his hands. “So this is what caused the carnage, huh?”
“Yes, sir. We found it in one of the bedrooms, along with the gnome. A miss, erm, Superczyński said it is some sort of guidance system.” The burly agent scratched his nose. “Seems highly unlikely, sir.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“It’s just a garden gnome, sir.” He flipped the gnome upside down and stabbed a gloved finger at its underbelly. “Made in China. I’ve got one just like it. They’re selling for $3.99 at Walmart. Sir.”
Matt studied the gnome. The agent was right. It was just a plain old-fashioned plastic gnome. Nothing special about it. He sighed. “Pack this stuff up and take it to the lab. Let’s hope they can figure out what it is.”
“Not so fast!”
The loud voice boomed the length of the street, and Matt closed his eyes in dismay. God. Not that guy. He whirled around, and found himself facing a man dressed like a stock broker, his hair and horn-rimmed glasses just so.
“Aaron. What are you doing here?”
Aaron Chinn stabbed an angry finger at the black box and the gnome. “That’s my stuff, Halloran. What the hell is it doing out here in the middle of nowhere?”
Matt raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Your stuff? You mean to say—”
“This box and this gnome are the property of EYE. So before you get your sweaty little hands all over them, I suggest you think twice and hand them back to their rightful owner.”
Matt decided to stand his ground. It was bad enough he had to work with this pipsqueak, he wasn’t about to take orders from him.
“We confiscated this material from a suspect. We have reason to believe it’s being used to target ASS. Since it’s evidence in a crime, it now belongs to us.”
Aaron’s dark eyes shot fire. “Fat chance. Call Harridan. She’ll tell you not to trample all over—”
“Hey! You!”
Both Matt and Aaron looked up. Yvonne had walked up to them, her hands planted on her hips. She looked both pissed and incredibly sexy, thought Matt.
She pointed at the box. “That box just killed Betty and Bessy. So if it belongs to you, you have some explaining to do, buddy.”
Aaron, who wasn’t used to being addressed with a term quite so familiar, bridled. “Who are you and what the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m Yvonne Assenheimer, and your gnome…” For emphasis, she dug her finger into Aaron’s chest. “… killed my chickens.” Another jab.
Through gritted teeth, Aaron growled, “Halloran. So help me God, if you don’t get this female out of my face, I’m gonna bust her one.”
Matt displayed a rare smile, and folded his arms across his chest. This, he had to see. “Sorry, Aaron. You’re on your own, buddy.”
Aaron made a half-hearted attempt at grabbing Yvonne’s arm. Five seconds later, Aaron Chinn was lying on the pavement, rubbing his nose and cursing wildly.
“Now tell me, pencil-dick-face,” said Yvonne calmly. “Why did you kill Bessy and Betty?”
Chapter 23
“Did this man kill our chickens?” Yvonne’s mom had joined the fray.
The man who Matt called Aaron, crawled to his feet, still clutching his wounded nose. “I didn’t kill any chickens!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Yvonne. “You attacked me!”
“You started it.”
“Look. Let’s all calm down, all right?” Matt had stepped between Yvonne and Aaron, holding up his arms in a gesture of peace. “Aaron didn’t kill your chickens, Mrs. Assenheimer. A man called Grant did.”
“Grant? Oswin Grant?” Aaron frowned. “What makes you think that?”
“We found this box at his house,” Yvonne said.
“Found? What were you doing at his house in the first place?”
“We were, um…” She darted a quick look at Matt, uncertain how much she was allowed to divulge to this man.
“I sent Yvonne and Izzy, who are members of my team, to Grant’s house in the hope of finally figuring out who’s been supplying him with intel.” He lowered his voice. “Grant’s been selling state secrets to the Goriamanese, Aaron. I thought you knew this.”
If Aaron’s expression of absolute surprise was any indication, the man didn’t know anything. “Grant? Selling…” He quickly directed a look at Yvonne’s mom, and Yvonne got the hint.
She took her mother aside, and said, “I think you better go inside now, Mom. Keep an eye on Joe’s men.”
Mom’s eyes darted back to the two men. “Who’s Matt? Is he the handsome one?”
“Um, yes, Mom. He is.”
“I thought so. He’s a policeman, right?”
“Something like that.”
Mom leaned in, and whispered, “You should ask him out on a date, honey. A policeman is a good catch.”
“Thanks for the tip. I’ll see what I can do.”
She gave her mother a peck on the cheek, and watched her disappear inside the house. Amazing how fast Mom picked up on these things, she thought. One minute with Matt, and already she’d singled him out as the future father of her grandchildren. She shook her head as she returned to the small gathering outside.
She’d just joined the troupe when Matt yelled, “What! That’s not possible!”
Aaron stood looking grim-faced. “It is. Grant is one of ours. He’s been working for EYE since its inception. He’s the one who invented the tech, for Christ’s sakes.” He stabbed a finger at Matt. “And your tech, by the way.”
“Our tech? You mean to say
Grant—”
“—fathered the ASS software. He’s a brilliant scientist.”
“Then why is he selling all that brilliance to the Goriamanese?”
“He isn’t. He’s selling them something they think is our tech. Instead—”
He eyed Yvonne suspiciously.
“You can talk in front of her. She’s one of my top agents.”
Aaron rubbed his nose again. “Right.” He didn’t sound convinced. “Grant’s been feeding the Goriamanese software laced with a Trojan horse. As soon as they implement it into their system, we have access to their entire arsenal. In fact, we almost made the transfer this morning, but something went wrong. Grant ended up in the hospital, and the Goriamanese got killed.” He shook his head, clearly still disturbed about the whole thing. “Someone must have figured out what we were up to and tried to take out Grant.”
Yvonne felt her cheeks burn, while she tried to look as innocently as possible.
“Why didn’t I know about this?” demanded Matt.
“Because it’s none of your business!” roared Aaron.
The two men stood toe to toe, glaring at each other, and Yvonne wondered when they’d start the slugfest. She took a couple of steps back, as she didn’t want to be caught in the middle of a dick measuring contest.
“Well, it’s my business now. Haven’t you heard? We’re in this together, you and I.”
“What? No way!”
“Yes, way. Kathleen Harridan got the word from old man Pyke himself. ASS and EYE are merging.”
Aaron looked as if he was about to explode. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“Do I look like a funny guy?”
Yvonne thought he actually did. To her surprise, she’d discovered Matt had a terrific sense of humor. And watching him stare down that annoying Aaron, she felt those familiar jittery feelings in her stomach once again. She just hoped this whole Grant business wouldn’t make him postpone their date. She just couldn’t wait to get to know him a little better.
“For your information, Grant tried to kill two of my best agents just now. And earlier today, he tried to kill me and Kathleen Harridan.”
Aaron looked horrified. “That’s impossible! Grant’s our number one scientist. We only sent him out into the field because the Goriamanese insisted.”
Matt waved his hand in a wide swoop at the Assenheimer house. “Then how do you explain this? One of your drones launched one of your missiles at my agents using your guidance system.” He stared at the black box and the gnome. “At least, that’s what I’m assuming this is.”
Aaron nodded absently, then held up his hand. “Give me a minute to figure this out, Matt. I had no idea…”
He walked away, taking his cell from his pocket.
Meanwhile, Matt gave Yvonne a look of concern. “Are you all right, Yvonne?”
“V. Everyone calls me V so you might just as well do the same.”
“All right. V.” He gave her a weak smile. “Trust me. I’m going to get to the bottom of this. No one attacks my agents and gets away with it. No one.”
The proprietary statement warmed Yvonne’s heart. Here was a man who really watched out for his people, and she liked it. “Thanks, Matt,” she said softly. “And I’m sorry… about everything.”
“Sorry? What do you have to be sorry about?”
She gestured at the box-and-gnome combo. “This.” She pointed at Joe’s nose, which was still swollen. “That! I’ve caused more harm than good in the little time I’ve been working for you, Matt. And I have a confession to make.”
“It’s fine… V. You’re doing just fine.”
“No, I’m not. Look, Izzy and I? We’re garbagewomen. That’s our job. We’re not…” She searched for the right words. “… gun-wielding, bad-guy-stabbing super spies! We’re two ordinary girls, trying to do our best to simply… survive, you know.”
He laid a hand on her arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I know that, V. Don’t you think I know who you are? I’ve read your file. I know your history.”
“But—”
“Just relax, all right? Everything’s gonna be all right.”
“But we’re not—”
“It’s fine. Now stop doubting yourself.” He gave her a little shake. “That’s an order.”
She sighed. “Yes, Matt.”
“And now for the most important question.” He eyed her sternly. “And I want you to be honest with me, you hear?”
She swallowed. “I swear I will.”
“Did I hear your mother mention something about… pot roast?”
Chapter 24
Matt felt awkward as he put his feet under the table. When he looked up, eight burly men were staring back at him with unwavering attention, and three women. Yvonne, Izzy and her mother, he could cope with, but the eight men appeared hostile. Or perhaps that was just his imagination.
“Tell me again why you decided to steal Yvonne away from us.”
Or perhaps it wasn’t his imagination.
“Pop, it’s fine. Matt didn’t steal me away. I volunteered.”
A white lie, to be sure, but Matt nevertheless felt grateful.
“No Assenheimer has ever left his post.” One of the eight hulks spoke, in a rumbling voice.
“Well, Randall, perhaps it’s time someone did.”
This statement didn’t sit well with the Assenheimer brood, for their scowls deepened.
Matt took a stab at the pot roast on his plate. This stuff smelled great.
“Now don’t let your food get cold,” admonished Yvonne’s mom.
As if on cue, all the men grunted something and dug in.
They had a healthy appetite, that much was obvious, for it didn’t take them long to clear away enough pot roast to feed a small third world country.
“Look, I love the garbage business, all right? But this is a real challenge, you guys! I get to be a secret agent!”
Matt looked up. No secret agent ever told anyone they were a secret agent. And since Yvonne had been one for many years, he wondered what made her fess up now. Working for the ASS really was a big deal to her. Still, he had to frown upon her openness. He cleared his throat and laughed. “Secret agent. Funny.” He gazed around the table. “We’re just cops, you guys. No secret agent stuff involved. What-so-ever. Ha ha.”
Yvonne seemed to have caught on, for she displayed a nice blush. “Right. Of course. I was getting a little carried away. But isn’t it great that I get to be a cop!”
Randall looked up and gave Matt a dirty look as he pronged a potato. “I think it’s a sad day when cops break the bond that connects all Assenheimers. We’re a family of garbage collectors, Mr. Halloran. Always have. Always will. Not cops. Garbage collectors. It’s a noble profession.”
“So is being a cop.”
Yvonne’s father shook his grizzled head. The man was even bigger than the rest of them. No wonder Yvonne was a big girl. With this gene pool, she’d have to be. “We’re not saying being a cop is a lesser thing than being a sanitation worker, Matt. We’re saying Assenheimers are garbagemen.” He extended a coal shovel sized hand at Yvonne. “And garbagewomen Not cops.”
“I get that, Mr. Assenheimer. And I admire you and your sons. Garbage collectors are the unsung heroes of our time. If not for you, cities would drown in their own waste, and the whole fabric of society would grind to a screeching halt.”
There were murmurs of consent all around the table, then one of the younger hulks piped up. He wore his hair and beard long, and looked like he’d escaped an episode of Game of Thrones. “You have to understand, Yvonne is our little sister, Mr. Matt. And what we know about cops?” He shook his head. “It’s a dangerous business to be in. Before you know it, you’re lying six feet under with a bullet hole in your skull. We Assenheimers are mighty protective of our own.”
“I promise you I won’t let any harm come to your sister, young man.”
The man mountain waggled his beard. “You can’t stop a bullet when
it’s got her name on it.”
“I can take of myself, Ernest. I don’t need you or Matt or anybody else to do it for me, thank you very much.”
She sounded pissed off, Matt thought, which was a quality that endeared her to him. No meek little woman, that Yvonne.
“I know, V. Just sayin’.”
“Just sayin’ what? That I can’t take care of myself?”
“Don’t get mad at me for looking out for your best interests,” mumbled the one called Ernest.
“I think this pot roast is delicious,” Izzy piped up. She hadn’t said a word, merely shoveled as much food into her mouth as possible in the shortest amount of time. Matt wondered how she maintained that slim physique with such a voracious appetite.
“Thank you, dear. At least somebody at this table appreciates my cooking.” Mrs. Assenheimer threw a dark look at her husband, who blanched.
“It’s really incredibly good, Mrs. Assenheimer,” Matt said, rubbing his well-filled tummy.
The eight Assenheimer men quickly joined in the chorus, and heaped praise on the one-of-a-kind pot roast.
“I like being a cop.” Izzy’s voice sounded clear as a bell, and silenced the room. “I think it’s cool that we get to chase the bad guys and put them away. To me it’s much the same as being a sanwoman. We pick up the trash, and make it go away, so the city can go about its business undisturbed.”
Assenheimer senior looked at Izzy as if he’d just seen a ghost, then suddenly he broke into a booming laugh. “Iz!” he exclaimed. “You’re absolutely right! Being a cop is like being a garbageman! We both collect garbage and put it away!”
Murmurs of assent were heard around the table, and the scowls on the faces of the Assenheimer men were finally replaced with expressions of mirth.
Suddenly, Ernest rose to his feet, shoving his chair back with force. It scraped across the floor before toppling over and crashing down. “Yvonne! Izzy!” He abruptly raised his glass. “Congratulations on your new jobs!”
“Thanks, Ernie!” squeaked Izzy, and hopped up from the table to fling herself around the bearded giant’s neck. The man beamed at the unexpected treat. It was the starting sign for the others to raise their glasses and toast to Yvonne and Izzy’s new professions, and when Joe’s eyes met Yvonne’s dad, he was relieved to find them mellow and absolutely devoid of hostility.