by F J messina
Walking back to the stable area, looking as much as possible like owners, the three of them slipped silently past security guards who were primarily focused on protecting the winner of the race. Sonia wondered if they would actually get to hear anything interesting. It seemed to her that any conversations that were less than positive would be held in private. However, as they approached the barn which held Frailing, it was quite clear that someone was very upset.
Jet reached out her hands, stopping both Sonia and Burnett from going any farther. She stepped forward and turned her back toward the barn, looking only at her friends. “Do you all see Jackson Paine over there, talking to Limey?”
Sonia nodded, but Burnett said, “I don’t know the man.”
Jet leaned over and spoke softly. “He’s Frailing’s owner.”
Sonia squinted at the tall man. “Yeah, but he seems fine, like that’s just how things go with racehorses. So, who do you think is doing all the yelling?”
Jet turned, stretching and looking in several directions. “I don’t know, but there’s no question they’re pissed, really pissed. And look. Limey sure looks like he’s pretty uncomfortable about something, doesn’t he?”
The trio stood there in silence for several minutes. Sonia was trying to sift out any words she could from the heated discussion going on inside the barn. The few words she could understand seemed to imply that promises had been made. There was something about a “new way of doing things,” or something like that. Clearly, though, she felt that someone believed they had been lied to or assured of something that didn’t work out.
Finally, the heated discussion was over, and for a moment, Sonia, Jet, and Burnett didn’t quite know what to do. Just as Sonia was about to suggest that they move on and start for home, she watched a trim, gray-haired man walk out of the barn, his face still red. She turned to Jet and spoke softly. “Do you recognize who that is?”
“That’s George Masson,” Jet said, almost silently.
Sonia nodded, “So it is.”
Burnett leaned in and whispered. “George who?”
Jet covered her mouth with the back of her hand. “George Masson. He’s the owner of Downstream Farm, where Frailing was bred.”
The three of them stood in silence, staying still, hoping not to draw any attention to themselves. A few moments later, a smallish blonde-haired man walked out of the barn, looking to Sonia like he had just gotten quite a tongue lashing. It was Ron Harris.
As Harris walked away, Sonia watched the few people who were left in the area. The one man who caught her attention, the one who looked off-stride, at a loss, nervous, was the Englishman with the giant hands, Limey.
28
Sonia had slept in on Sunday morning. She’d had a wonderful time at the races the day before, the disappointment of Frailing’s performance notwithstanding. After the races on Saturday, Jet, Burnett, and she had all gone to a hip lounge in the local Hilton Hotel, right in the middle of downtown. When Burnett had offered to take both Sonia and Jet out to dinner, the silent message Jet had sent to Sonia made it clear that she was ready to be alone with her forensic accountant. Sonia had begged off and Burnett had dropped her at her apartment.
The pace of the past week had been pretty intense. Several sessions with Burnett, sneaking into Oakley’s office to download the keystroke software, meeting Gabriela, a second trip to Downstream Farm, a big day at the races; it was no wonder she’d felt whipped and had been glad to relax all morning. By the afternoon, however, Sonia was getting antsy. It had been just over a week since Brad had gone off to work for an old client and then on to help his buddy Robbie Alvarez. Simply put, she missed him.
What was worse, there were moments when she actually felt lonely. Before Brad had come into her life, Sonia had been very content to work hard during the week and then enjoy her weekends, primarily by herself. She would read, explore a shop or two downtown, maybe take a trip out into the countryside. But things were different now. Now, any day in which she didn’t see Brad was a day with a hole in it. She loved his smile, his jokes, his bright blue eyes. She loved the way he always seemed to be touching her, not in a sexual way, just in a loving, “staying in contact,” sort of way. Of course, the romantic stuff wasn’t bad either. When her phone rang, it took only a moment before it was in her hand and she was answering it. “Hello.”
“Hey, sweet thing.”
“Hey.” A smile of relief crossed her face. “How are you?”
“Just missing you, wishing I could be back in Lexington, holding you, or, well . . . .”
She fell into one of Jet’s accents. “Captain Dunham, please. Behave yourself, sir.”
“Oh really?” came the reply. “That’s what you want? For me to behave myself?”
There was a slight pause before Sonia answered. “Wellll . . . maybe not too much.”
“There’s my girl.” Brad’s voice was light and airy. “So, what have you been up to?”
Sonia spent the next few minutes briefly relating all that had gone on since he’d left.
“Sounds like a busy, busy week. Are you making any progress on the missing girl? What’s her name again?”
“Mariana. Mariana Castillo. And actually, not much. The only break we’ve gotten is that Jet managed to come up with the names of two more of her friends, girls we can talk to. Other than that, we’re still kind of stuck.”
“And your other cases?”
“We’ve got something in place to catch the young guy who’s stealing from Steven Brownlee.” Sonia kept her voice calm, making things sound sort of run of the mill. “And Jet says she’s working on a plan to catch Nick Petropoulos, the cheating husband who runs the skating rink.”
“Uh oh.” Brad’s voice pitched upward.
“Uh oh, what?”
Brad chuckled. “Uh oh, I hope it’s more solid than the plan she came up with to catch that guy you all called Bob Dylan.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Sonia scolded him. “Just remember, she’s the one who fleshed out your crazy plan to stop that truck on its way to Memphis. She did pretty well on that one, didn’t she?”
Sonia could feel Brad’s smile come through the phone. “That she did, sweetheart.” Sonia had been walking around and around her apartment, as she often did when she was on the phone. She finally sat down on the couch in her tiny living room. “And what about you. How are things going for you? When are you coming home?”
There was a moment of silence before Brad answered. “Things are, well, things are moving along. Robbie’s got me working with him on this deal he’s involved with, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything about it. DEA stuff you know.”
Sonia tried to hide the worry in her voice. “Is it dangerous?”
“Nothing we can’t handle, babe.” His voice was reassuring. “Don’t you start worrying.”
“And when are you coming home?”
“Well, it looks like this thing should wrap up sometime late this week.”
“Another week?” Sonia had wanted to hide her disappointment, but it just slipped past her and colored her words.
“Yeah. I’m sorry about that, but we’ve got to wait for some guys to make another move on something. Still, I’m pretty sure it’ll go down later this week. Then I’ve got one other thing to take care of and I should be home by Friday night, Saturday the latest.”
Sonia wasn’t thrilled to know that Brad would be gone another whole week, but at least she now had a relatively specific time to look forward to. She was already beginning to plan a nice home-cooked dinner in her apartment next Saturday night. Shrimp scampi over freshly cooked linguine, a nice salad, warm bread, wine, and for dessert, maybe something a little spicier.
“Are you there. Sonia?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just thinking. So, you’re home Friday night?”
“That, or early Saturday. It depends on getting a few things done and then on what flights are available.”
“Well, mister, don’t you go making any
plans for Saturday night. That time’s for us.” There was teasing in her voice and perhaps just a touch of severity.
“Yes, ma’am. Certainly, ma’am,” he teased. “Orders received loud and clear, ma’am. Listen, babe, I’ve got to run. Great to talk to you. Can’t wait to see you.”
“Yeah, great to talk to you too. You have a great week. I miss you.” She hung up.
Sonia looked at the clock. One ten. It’s going to be a long afternoon and evening. Maybe I need to go to a movie or something.
29
Jet walked into the BCI offices promptly at ten o’clock on Monday morning. She found Sonia sitting at her desk. “Good morning, early bird.”
Sonia looked up from her work. “Good morning to you, sunshine. Welcome to a new week.” Her words were brighter than the tone of her voice.
Jet continued walking toward Sonia, stopping in the doorway of Sonia’s office. “Yes, it is a new week isn’t it? In fact, lots of things feel new.” In contrast, her voice seemed dreamy.
Sonia raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I get what you mean.”
“You know, spring is here, flowers are blooming, the ponies are running. Everything feels,” she grinned and shrugged, “I don’t know, fresh and new.”
Sonia leaned back in her desk chair. She gently waved her pen in the air. “You know. I can’t say that I’ve ever seen spring have such a profound effect on you before. This wouldn’t have anything to do with what happened after I left you and Burnett on Saturday evening, would it?” The pen found its way to Sonia’s lips.
Suddenly, Jet was the demure southern belle. “Whatever are you implying?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Could it be that the birds and the bees weren’t the only things buzzing around ol’ Burnett later that evening?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.” Now the accent was in full bloom. “The colonel and I spent an entirely proper evening together speaking of the weather, politics, and such. And I must say, I’m beginning to be just the slightest bit insulted by your veiled insinuations that other things, things of an unsavory nature, might have occurred.”
With that, Jet turned, stepped out of the doorway, and headed for her own office. A few steps into her journey, however, she stopped, looked through the glass wall, and gave Sonia the most Cheshire Cat-grin she had ever seen.
Sonia shook her head and went back to work. “The colonel, oh, my goodness.”
Sonia and Jet spent Monday afternoon splitting their time between working other cases and trying to track down the two new girls they had heard were friends of Mariana’s. Sonia spent a few more hours getting time-stamped shots of Mr. Afternoon Delight heading over to visit his happy home-making hussy, while Jet hung around the drug store waiting for the shoplifting girls with the penchant for using women’s high-end makeup─for free. When they did show up, Jet was frustrated that she could never quite catch the girls “in the act,” but there was something else that caught her eye, something that had her questioning her assumptions.
Just after four o’clock in the afternoon, Sonia walked back into the BCI offices. She could see that Jet was clearly wrapping up her day. “You out of here already?”
Jet stood and slung her purse strap over her shoulder. “You got that right. I’ve had enough of dead-end phone calls and shoplifters for one day. Want to join me for a drink?”
“Not tonight.” Sonia stepped into her own office. “I missed my run yesterday, and after I file this one report I think I’m going to go home and give that a shot.” She put her purse on her desk and turned back to Jet. “So, no luck with finding those two girls?”
Jet let out a quick breath. “Making some progress, but not much. I even called that smarty-pants professor and told him we’d found those other two names. But when I asked him if he knew how we could reach either of them, he had no clue.”
“Did he seem bothered by the fact that he had forgotten to mention those girls to us in the first place?”
“Nah. Just went on and on about how busy they always were and that he made it a practice to not get too close to his students.” She waved her hand in the air. “Blah, blah, blah. Personally, I think he’s kind of a dolt.”
Sonia stepped back out of her office. “One question.”
“Yes?”
“You’ve got a plan for how we’re going to wrap up Mandy Petropoulos’ case?”
Jet dropped her chin and gave Sonia her librarian look. “Sweetheart, I’ve got a plan to catch ol’ Nick-the-Dick bumpin’ skate guards with his roller-derby queen and it’s a killer if I do say so myself. But I think you’ll enjoy it better if you wait to hear about it until just before we put it into action.” She gave Sonia a big smile, turned, and left.
Sonia sighed. Somehow, I’m not sure I even want to know what you’ve got planned. She finished up some things and left the office a few minutes later. She walked the short block up East Main, turned onto Ashland and headed for her apartment. It was a beautiful spring evening, so she made certain to absorb the beauty of the old neighborhood as she walked. When she turned onto Central Avenue, a strange sensation came over her. Turning around, she saw a black BMW convertible with darkened windows slowly making the same turn she had made. Sonia wondered if the driver was lost or something, but as soon as she stopped and looked at the car, the driver seemed to find what he or she was looking for and took off. Sonia shook off a tiny shudder. Sometimes I think I should never walk around here alone. A woman never knows.
She walked past the house that stood in front of her garage apartment, strode up the stairs, and within a few minutes was dressed and ready for a run through some of the most attractive old neighborhoods in the city. As she came down the stairs and started her run, her heart was light. Even though she missed Brad, she felt at peace with the world. Except for one thing, the same question that always seemed to be chewing on her brain. What the hell happened to Mariana Castillo?
30
Stepping into the BCI offices at eight o’clock on Tuesday evening, Sonia was surprised at what she saw. Sitting on the couch in the waiting area was a young woman with blue eyes and a long, blonde ponytail. Clearly, it was Jet. Clearly, it wasn’t.
Sonia knew that Jet was attractive and was never shy about showing off her feminine attributes, but she was a slender, athletic type of attractive, and her wardrobe choices were young and stylish but always tasteful. It appeared that this young woman had most likely had her clothing sprayed onto her body, particularly in critical areas. In addition, whereas Jet was in no way flat-chested, this young woman’s cups seemed to runneth over, thanks to the powers of a super push-up bra, Sonia assumed.
“Jet, what are you doing in that getup? I mean,” Sonia ran her fingers through her hair, “those pants are something, and I love the top, but really, how are you even breathing?”
Jet stood and wiggled as she ran her thumbs inside the waistband of her pants. “Only when I’m standing” She stood as tall as she could. “I can only breathe when I’m standing.”
“Well, I’ve got to say that you could really grab people’s attention in that outfit─in a hooker kind of way. But whose clothes are those anyway?”
“Oh, they’re mine, lady. They’re mine. I bought them specifically for tonight’s adventure and charged them to the business.” She brushed invisible dust off her pants. “Yup, you’d better believe that.” She kept rolling her shoulders and wiggling, trying to get comfortable.
“Uh, huh,” said Sonia softly. She wasn’t going to argue about the expenditure. She knew that Jet would never normally wear clothing that suggestive. “And how is that getup going to be part of the adventure?”
“Look. One of us has to get past Burly Bouncer Boy to get the shots we need. And the only way we’re going to be able to do that is to have the other one out there roller-skating, grabbing his attention.” She walked into her office, Sonia following. Checking the mirror on the old armoire, Jet ran her ponytail through her hands. “So, let me ask y
ou, which of those parts do you want to play in our charade?” She slipped into her southern accent. “You gonna be the taker of pictures or the roller-skating diversion?” Given Sonia’s roller-skating skills, both women knew it was a rhetorical question.
Sonia let out a deep breath. “Okay, but are you sure wearing those clothes will be enough to get Burly Bouncer Boy’s attention?”
“Just you wait and see.” Jet checked the mirror one last time. “Just you wait and see.”
Around thirty minutes later, Sonia and Jet walked into The Wildcat and right under the EVERYONE MUST WEAR SKATES sign. Sonia wished she could avoid strapping on those wheeled implements of torture, but she knew that in order to be close enough to slip quickly into Nick’s office, she would have to get at least far enough around the oval to position herself against the wall at that end of the room. Jet, on the other hand, seemed to relish the upcoming opportunity.
Moments after Jet had gotten her skates laced up, she was on the floor taking big, athletic strides as she flew around the rink. A few heads turned as she passed by, taken by her energy. Those eyes belonged to the younger skaters. The other heads that turned did so because of the effect created by Jet’s outfit. Tight, skimpy, white shorts with shiny studs around the waist were the only thing between her red, high-top roller-skates and the beautiful, though extremely daring, floral bustier she was wearing. The bright, blue pendant that hung from her neck drew the eyes of most skaters to the bounty her push-up bra was putting on display.
Burly Bouncer Boy stood guard at his normal station, just outside of Nick’s office. Surrounded, as he often was, by a small gaggle of college girls, even Jet’s breath-defying outfit didn’t get his attention on her first few passes. Undeterred, she increased the display of her athleticism, finding ways to spin and twirl each time she was at his end of the rink. It didn’t take long before the tall, muscular, man-child was looking over the heads of the co-eds each time she passed.