Veiled Threat

by Alice Loweecey

  She returned all the markers except orange to her penguin holder and took out a skinny black felt-tip pen.

  Look at these people from the opposite side. Don’t assume they’re all basically good. Assume they’re all capable of committing kidnapping and murder. She circled the names of the masseuse and the ski instructor and connected them with a thick orange line. With the felt tip, she wrote, “Baby/Fertility/Games.” Their family’s nagging them to have a baby. What if they can’t? What if there’s desperation behind their lovey-dovey act? They knew I was in the break room listening to them.

  “The ski instructor is in charge of games, too.”

  Frank came over to her and read the profile. “Too bad they don’t list religion on these forms anymore.”

  “Mm.” Giulia tapped the black felt tip against her lips. “Nothing is that easy. Here’s something. One of the sous chefs has massive college debt.” She circled that with the pen. “The daytime desk clerk and the handyman are married, no kids.” Another circle. “Here’s an interesting one: a waitress sued the resort and lost three years ago because they caught her watering the wine. The judge didn’t buy her plea of not responsible because of her addiction to Cabernet.”

  Sidney laughed.

  Giulia took a notepad from her desk and wrote that waitress’s information in it. “Captain Reilly will have to check that one.”

  “Hey,” Frank said. “What name are you using?”

  “Regina Ryan.”

  “Regina I get, but Ryan?”

  Sidney gasped. “Are you reading that romance, too?”

  Giulia smiled. “It’s too good to put down, isn’t it?”

  Frank looked from one to the other. “You’re kidding.”

  Giulia stuck out the tip of her tongue at him. “Says the man who pores over Sports Illustrated like a new revelation from God.”

  “I think I have emails calling me.” He retreated into his office.

  She returned to the collage. I can’t memorize their names because I have to be convincing when I meet everyone, but I can memorize the job descriptions. Masseuse and games captain. Sous chef. Desk clerk and handyman. Just don’t fixate on these five. They could all be perfectly innocent and my real target might be the waitress or the psycho geek or someone else whose profile here doesn’t set off any alarm bells.

  Godzilla roared from her computer monitor. She checked her watch. Eleven twenty. She unpinned the clue collage and it flopped over her head like she was folding sheets.

  “Sidney?”

  A giggle sounded from the other side of Giulia’s paper shroud. “You sound like my swim class kids do when their caps get stuck on their heads.”

  Sidney’s hands appeared at the edge of the papers and together they lifted and held it parallel to the floor.

  “Come toward me,” Giulia said. “Okay, you take the top and I’ll crease the bottom. Now I’ll take the left side and you take the right.” They folded the collage in half and half again, until they’d reduced its original three-by-five-foot dimensions to one-by-three. “That should fit.” She squatted by the file cabinet next to the window and opened the bottom drawer. “I swear the junk in this drawer reproduces asexually.” She rearranged envelopes and half-filled supply boxes to allow the folded collage to rest on top.

  “Sidney, I’m taking a long lunch today. I’ll be back by one thirty.”

  “No problem. I’m having a veggie sub delivered. I have a whole mess of reports to type up before I leave tomorrow.”

  Giulia knocked on Frank’s door frame. “Did you hear all that?”

  “Yes. Should I ask why you’re doubling your lunch hour?”

  “I’ll explain when I come back.” Although one look will be explanation enough.

  TWENTY-TWO

  GIULIA SAT IN ONE of Glitz’s salon chairs and stared at her curls one last time. Goodbye for now. We’ll see each other again soon.

  “Okay, now don’t move, okay? This stuff is majorly strong and it can’t touch your scalp.”

  Jeanie, Mingmei’s Best Friend Forever, separated Giulia’s hair into two-inch sections and poured a thick, vile-smelling liquid onto a glittery red hairbrush.

  Mingmei, perched in the next chair, covered her mouth and nose. “Damn, Jeanie, that stinks worse than Crazy Lou in the middle of August.”

  “Yeah, doesn’t it? Is Crazy Lou still making the rounds of all the restaurant dumpsters?”

  “Haven’t seen him for a few months, but he had a smell you’d never forget.”

  “Gawd, yes.” Jeanie pulled the brush through the first section of Giulia’s hair. “You have gorgeous hair, Giulia. So thick. Bet it frizzes up in the summer.”

  “I have good hair goop with lots of proteins.” She grimaced as the brush caught a tangle.

  “Mei, what’d you get the boyfriend for Christmas?” Jeanie started on another section.

  “A box of reeds for his sax and a gift certificate for new ink. He’s been talking about a wolf in dark glasses playing an alto sax since summer.”

  “Cool. You got a guy, Giulia?”

  Mingmei made a coughing noise that sounded like “Boss.”

  “Don’t turn your head!” Jeanie’s free hand came down on Giulia’s shoulder. “Mei, if you distract my client this stuff’ll eat the hair off her scalp. What’s Mei being all judgmental about now?”

  “I’m sort of dating my boss.”

  “Oh. Well. Um. I’ve seen that work out.” She paid close attention to the next section of hair.

  “Told you,” Mingmei kept her hand over her nose. “The convent sucked, so what are you doing jumping into a relationship with major suck potential? That’s not the way to rebound.”

  Jeanie started on the section next to Giulia’s ears. “Convent! That’s right. Shut up about who she’s dating, Mei. Giulia, I’ve got to brush this through your hair for twenty minutes. Please tell me lots of convent stories. Mei promised you would.” She stopped long enough to set a timer and went right back to brushing.

  Giulia blinked her eyes several times, but they still watered from the cloud of chemicals enveloping her head. Oh, well. She smiled at Jeanie in the mirror. “Where do you want me to start?”

  _____

  Twenty solid minutes of brushing, a seven-minute rinse, and another five minutes of combing neutralizer through Giulia’s hair. She’d never spent this much time on her personal appearance in her entire life.

  “Rinse time again.” Jeanie walked with Giulia to the sinks. Four minutes later, she sat her up. “Sorry about the water down your back. Here, let me wrap your head. Okay, back to the chair for the big unveiling—ha ha ha, that was good. Okay. Three. Two. One.”

  She whisked away the towel. Giulia’s often-wild, curly hair fell to the bottom of her shoulder blades.

  “That’s me? I had no idea my hair was this long.”

  “It’ll shrink up a bit after it’s dry.” She picked up a blow dryer and said to the room, “Okay, everyone. The really stinky part’s about to begin. Cover your noses and mouths, since it’s too cold to open the door.”

  The receptionist pressed two buttons on the wall thermostat behind her desk. The ceiling fans increased their speed and the airflow from the baseboard vents got stronger.

  Jeanie handed Giulia a clean towel and fired up the blow dryer. The odor hit about ten seconds later. Giulia’s eyes watered and the back of her throat got scratchy. She clutched the towel to her face. Jeanie said, “Warned you,” over the noise.

  The torture lasted forever, which by the clock equaled six minutes. Jeanie shut off the dryer and blew her nose. “They couldn’t have made that smell nastier if they’d tried. Okay, wipe your eyes and take a look.”

  “Whoa,” Mingmei said. “You look like some relative of yours, but not you. Take off your makeup, and I bet even your boyfriend-boss would have to look twice to make sure it’s really you.”

  “It’s so different.” Giulia stared at her reflection. “I look like a throwback to the sixties.” />
  “Retro is in.” Jeanie ran a wide-toothed comb through Giulia’s new look, smoothing it with one hand as she combed. “This is important: don’t wash your hair till Saturday. The smell’s not that bad, really. If you wash it too soon, you’ll stop the chemical reaction from finishing up.”

  “You’re incredible. I wouldn’t know myself. It looks great.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. I’m a whole new me. It feels like … freedom. Like a fresh start.”

  Mingmei said, “Ever read that Sylvia comic strip? She says that a good haircut is better than three months of psychotherapy. Something like that.”

  Giulia laughed. “I think I agree.”

  Jeanie gave them both a huge grin in the mirror. “You’ve gotta come back in a week or so. Do you mind? I want to see how it looks when it settles down.”

  “No, I don’t mind.” Giulia swung her hair back and forth. “I feel like a teenager. I should go out and buy new clothes to complete the new look.”

  “Retail therapy! Let’s do it.” Mingmei squared her shoulders. “Okay, playtime over. Time to hold my hand for surgery.”

  “Jeanie, I’ll pay you as soon as this one realizes she’s going to survive the beautification of her navel.”

  “No worries. I’m watching the Great Piercing Adventure, too.”

  Mingmei lay on the sheet-covered table in Glitz’s piercing corner, opposite the manicurist’s station, kitty corner from the row of hairstyling chairs. The older female technician who performed all piercings laid down her counted cross-stitch and worked a fresh pair of surgical gloves over her fingers. She swabbed a three-inch circle around Mingmei’s navel.

  “Cold!”

  “Yes, dear. This needle is sterilized, and I’ve sterilized your jewelry while you watched your friend. I’m going to use this little clamp to pinch the fold of your skin right above your belly button and punch the needle through.”

  Mingmei whimpered a little.

  Jeanie gave a loud, theatrical sigh. “Grow a pair, you sissy.”

  The technician took the clamp in one hand and the piercing needle in the other. “All right, dear. I want you to breathe in for a count of three and breathe out for a count of three.”

  Mingmei grabbed Giulia’s hand.

  The technician said, “I’ll count for you. In. One … two … three. Out. One … two … three.” On three she clamped Mingmei’s skin and pushed the needle through. Without pausing, she inserted the curved bar so the lapis ball nestled in her navel and attached the smaller ball to the top of the bar. “All done.” She released the clamp.

  Giulia pried Mingmei’s fingers off her hand. “You did fine.”

  Mingmei inhaled and exhaled several times. “Tell me it looks beautiful.”

  Janie angled the technician’s hand mirror over the piercing. “Hardly any blood. We hire the best. Great job, auntie.”

  Giulia looked at the technician. “You’re related?”

  “No, but Shelley’s like everyone’s favorite aunt. We all love her to bits.” She kissed the technician’s plump cheek.

  “You girls are so sweet.” The technician folded a square of gauze over Mingmei’s navel and secured it with paper adhesive tape. “This little bit of bleeding will stop soon. Wash it with only antibacterial soap for the next two weeks. The bar needs to stay in twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week for six months. Not a day less. Then you can change your jewelry as long as you use the same gauge bar.” She peeled off the surgical gloves. “Don’t ignore these instructions or you’ll be courting infection.”

  Mingmei sat up. “Got it. I know the routine from my other piercings.” She eased her shirt over her low-rider jeans. “See? I came prepared.”

  Giulia opened her wallet and handed Jeanie one hundred dollars. “Thank you. You did a great job. Mingmei, are you capable of walking? It’s twenty after one.”

  “Yes, I’ll survive. The things I do to look attractive. I bet lover-boy didn’t expect that this gift means he can’t get near my midsection till next week. Ow.” She zipped her quilted jacket. “If he buys me a nipple ring for Christmas, I’ll shove it through his big nose.”

  The technician tsked. Giulia and Jeanie gasped and then laughed in unison.

  “What?” Mingmei looked at them. “The porno magazines he looks at are into models with piercings in all the wrong places.” She shuddered. “There’s not enough eye bleach in the world to erase some of those images.”

  “In my wildest dreams I never thought I’d be discussing trashy pictures in a public place.” Giulia buttoned her violet coat. If I had another winter coat, I’d wear it to the resort. I love it, but it’s the polar opposite of nondescript. She grimaced. I’m really starting to hate that word.

  TWENTY-THREE

  “GIULIA? OH MY GOD.” Sidney’s jaw dropped and stayed dropped.

  Frank ran into the main part of the office. “What happened? What’s—cac naofa.”

  Mingmei came out from behind Giulia, laughing so hard she had to lean against the door. “Perfect. Beautiful. I wish my phone took video.” She gave Giulia a one-armed squeeze. “Thank you for holding my hand through surgery. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Sidney’s head swiveled toward Mingmei. “Surgery? Over lunch?”

  She pulled up her shirt. “Navel piercing.”

  Frank said, “Mingmei, nice to see you, but we’ve got a lot to do on a short timeline here.”

  “Right. Bye, everyone.” Her boots clicked down the stairs.

  Sidney came out from behind her desk. “What did you do?”

  Frank walked over to them. “Why did you do it?”

  “Can I touch it?”

  “What were you thinking?”

  Giulia tilted her new long hair toward Sidney. “Go ahead.” To Frank: “The kidnappers have been monitoring Laurel and Anya for weeks, at the very least. Their schedule. Their movements. That includes who goes to see them. I go to the soup kitchen once a week. I’ve been to their apartment to see the baby. If the kidnappers are working at the resort, they might recognize me. So I needed an easy change to the way I look.”

  “That’s a helluva change.”

  Sidney said, “It’s soft and it still has waves. I wish I had waves.”

  “Frank, I’m in a maid’s uniform with no makeup. Yesterday Sidney braided it, and today my new straight hair will be tied back in a ponytail. Could it be any more different from curly headed, semi-fashionable me?”

  Frank lost his bug-eyed look. “You have a point.”

  “I brought my oldest jeans and a plain long-sleeved shirt to change into. I can play this part, even though I really belong in the orchestra pit with my flute.”

  “Smart.” He shook his head. “You’re too clever sometimes.”

  “Pfft. I’m just practical.”

  “Lord knows someone in this business needs to be. Sidney’s got wedding on the brain.”

  “I do not … well, maybe.”

  Giulia laughed. “Yes, you do. But that’ll pass. Until you get baby brain. Then you’ll be hopeless for about five months.”

  The phone rang.

  “Since when did we become so popular?” Frank said.

  “Should I quote the Bible on blessings abounding to those who do God’s work?”

  “Are you kidding?”

  She hid the laughter behind her hand. “I have to go to my other job now.”

  _____

  That afternoon, Giulia entered through the employee door armed with a handful of paper clips, prepared to test how well she paid attention to Frank’s lock-picking lesson. The presence of two of the waitresses squashed that plan.

  She returned their Hellos with a smile, thinking, Hurry up and change, you two. Monica will be in here any minute and I’ll be on vacuum duty.

  They took their time, of course, alternately complaining about the extra work the wedding was causing them and rhapsodizing about the novelty of a costume wedding at Christmastime.

  Monica walk
ed in just then. “Regina, most of the guests are in their rooms getting dressed for the wedding. Can you do a sweep of the lounge and bar?”

  “Sure. Should I use the bags from the cart closet?”

  “Yes, and bring wet and dry cloths for the tables. There’s a dishwasher rack behind the bar for used glasses.” She took one step away and turned back. “Did you do something different to your hair?”

  “I had it in a braid yesterday,” Giulia said without a qualm.

  “Oh. That must be it. Looks nice.”

  Giulia hit the bar first. Glasses in various states of almost-empty cluttered all the bistro-style tables. The rings they left wiped up without effort. She rubbed her fingers on a tabletop. Coated. I approve. And whatever malign influence encouraged Monica to appear before I could commit an actual crime, please go torment someone else.

  She dropped more glasses in the sectioned dish rack. One of the sous chefs snatched it out from under her hands.

  “Sorry, we need to run these through for the after-party.” He ran jangling and clinking into the kitchen.

  Giulia wiped another table. Blond ponytail, missing incisor. He’s the one I need to chat up. Need to make an excuse to get into the kitchen. Or catch him on break. Drat.

  He ran past her again, out the front door without a coat.

  Maybe tomorrow. Katie’s clock is ticking. Come on, Falcone. Think of a reason to “bump into him.”

  Barbara and Maryjane were setting up folding chairs in the lounge when she entered it. A glass pinecone had fallen off the eight-foot-tall Christmas tree. Giulia set the cloths and trash bags in the corner, retrieved the ornament, and hung it on a free branch. She adjusted the tree skirt and righted one of the empty wrapped boxes.

  “Thanks, Regina,” Barbara stood by the window and counted chairs. “Six—twelve—eighteen—twenty-four. Okay, Maryjane, we’re good.”

  Someone bumped into Giulia from behind.

  “Sorry—sorry—didn’t see you.” An older woman dressed as Saint Nicholas plopped the box on the nearest chair and took out a red satin pillow with two wedding rings pinned to it.