High-Caliber Concealer

by Bethany Maines

  The sheriff laughed. “No, he didn’t. Of course, he was worried that I’d go up to your grandma’s house and discover a robbery gone wrong and all of you would end up dead. He didn’t have much incentive to talk.”

  “I have the same amount of incentive,” said Nikki. “Let’s make a trade and then everybody can go back to their lives.”

  “Sounds fair to me. When and where?”

  “Crazy Cooter’s, tonight. 7:00 p.m.”

  “Too close to the Fernandez estate. I don’t need a horde of crazy Mexican’s butting in on my business.”

  “They’ll all be in Spokane for his cousin’s Quinceañera,” said Nikki. “They leave at six.”

  “You seem so up to date on the comings and goings of our little town,” said Merv. “I’d say you really seem to fit in here, except of course, you don’t.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be heading out of town as soon as I have Donny.”

  “I’m counting on it,” said the Sheriff. “See you at seven.”

  Nikki hung up the phone and considered throwing it across the lawn. “I want to punch that man in the throat. Jenny, how are you feeling about Crazy Cooter’s strategically?”

  “It’s good,” said Jenny, nodding. “River access, in case we want to get creative with a boat. Lots of good hidey-holes for Ellen, but also some good open spaces and lines of sight. I can start working on an exit strategy.”

  “Good. Ellen what have we got in the way of equipment?”

  “Not a damn thing,” said Ellen making a face.

  “I brought my Borg cube!” yelled Jane from inside.

  “You brought the whole basic kit?” Ellen yelled back. “Weren’t you supposed to turn that in when we were put on leave?”

  “Yeah, but I have two because I was doing some testing for Rachel. So I only turned in one.”

  “That’s why we love you, Jane,” yelled Jenny.

  “Well, we’ve got Jane’s make-up kit, so that should get us started. We’re short on guns though. What did you pack—the 1911?” asked Ellen.

  “The SIG.”

  “I’ve got a Glock and SIG P226,” said Z’ev.

  “Ooh, classic!” said Jenny. “Although, what is it with you and Nikki and the SIGs? Branch out, people.”

  “I didn’t realize we both carried SIG’s,” said Z’ev quietly.

  “It’d be nice to have a rifle,” said Ellen wistfully.

  “What I wouldn’t give to have Freddy with us,” said Jenny, sadly.

  “I have a rifle I use for deer hunting,” said Jackson. “I don’t know if that’s what you want.”

  “I’ll take a look,” said Ellen.

  “Someone in town has an AK-47,” said Nikki. “I saw the casings up at the quarry. I know it’s not Freddy, but maybe we could find out who and borrow it.”

  “That seems like it might be over the top,” said Z’ev.

  “Over the top?” said Nikki, “Or really, just the right amount?”

  “That’s probably Bill Bartlby,” said Jackson. “I can call him and see if he’ll lend it to us.”

  “What does he do?” asked Nikki.

  “Raises cows,” said Jackson.

  “Then what does he need an AK-47 for?” asked Ellen.

  “So he can shoot it,” said Jackson, with a shrug.

  “I’m just not OK with that,” said Ellen. “I really think those things should be more carefully licensed.”

  “They are carefully licensed,” said Jenny. “Laws do not stop people from doing things they want to do.”

  “But the threat of punishment does,” said Ellen. “And you can’t punish someone without a law saying that something is wrong. And what are people doing with assault rifles that is totally reasonable?”

  “Shooting targets is totally reasonable,” said Jenny. “And only two percent of crimes are committed with assault rifles. I know lots of people who own assault rifles. Rifles are not the problem.”

  “You mean you’re related to lots of people who own assault rifles. And having met some of your relatives, I don’t think I’m comfortable with that.”

  “Hey, just because I happen to have some cracker, confederate flag-flying relatives that collectively have got the common sense of a single fruit fly and like to get drunk on Saturday night, does not mean that owning assault rifles is a bad idea. Because sadly, I don’t think they can make a law that only excludes drunk jackasses and I don’t think the rest of us want our civil liberties decided based on a survey of my relatives.”

  “Jenny’s the one who steals my gun catalogs, isn’t she?” asked Z’ev.

  “Yes,” lied Nikki.

  “Besides,” continued Jenny, “You’re the one who just love, love, loves her Mauser.”

  “And my Barrett and my Dragunov. Doesn’t mean I want other people to have them.”

  “Ellen has a Dragunov?” Z’ev looked impressed.

  “Ladies,” said Nikki, clearing her throat. Z’ev’s commentary was making her nervous. “Let’s resolve one of the thorny issues of the twenty-first century at a time when Donny’s life is not on the line.”

  “Right.” Ellen refocused and looked at Jackson and Z’ev, slightly embarrassed.

  “I’m going inside to work on our exit plan,” said Jenny, lifting her chin and heading for the house. Her dignified exit was somewhat spoiled as she caught her toe on the lip of the stairs and stumbled slightly. Jackson caught her by the arm and pulled her back to upright. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” huffed Jenny, turning bright pink and hurrying into the house.

  “So what I was saying,” said Ellen. “was that we have Jane’s kit. Three handguns, a deer hunting rifle, and possibly a AK-47 that we can borrow.”

  “My grandma has a Smith & Wesson revolver we can also probably borrow,” said Nikki.

  “OK,” said Ellen with a shrug. “That’s four hand guns and two rifles. There’s six of us, so I guess that works out. How much ammo do we have?”

  “How much ammo do we need?” asked Jackson. “Nikki, are you sure about this? Merv Smalls has been the sheriff here for five years. Do we really think he’s going to kill Donny? I mean, Donny’s a cop. You really think he’s going to risk killing a cop?”

  “Yes, I do,” said Nikki. “I think he’ll really kill Donny. Just like I think he really killed Ylina. Just like I think he really killed whoever Luis was. He’s been using illegal immigrants to smuggle pot because he knows they’re vulnerable and he knows that if they go missing no one will ask questions. Merv Smalls is not a nice man. He has over a decade invested in this scheme and if you think he’s going to roll over and give in just because Donny is a cop, you’re mistaken. Something needs to be done.”

  “OK,” said Jackson nodding. “But are you the one to do it? Shouldn’t we let someone else handle it? Someone with more…”

  “Someone with more what?” asked Nikki. “Testicles?”

  “I was thinking credentials,” said Jackson.

  “Relax, Jackson,” said Ellen, climbing the stairs, and going into the house. “This is what we do.”

  “Is it?” said Z’ev. “Because honestly, that’s what I’ve always wanted to know. Just what is it that the four of you do?”

  “We work for Carrie Mae,” said Nikki helplessly, knowing that he’d never believe the truth.

  August XXVIII

  Get Ready

  She could feel Z’ev carefully not talking to her as she loaded her gun and checked her extra magazine. She and Ellen had stolen a quick, whispered conference in the bathroom at Jackson’s house.

  “We’ll tell him that we’re private security for Carrie Mae because Carrie Mae has branches all over the world. That works, right? I mean, it’s even sort of true. From a certain perspective.”

  Nikki had nodded. It might almost work. He was still going to ask why she hadn’t told him.

  She stole a glance at him through the racks of clothes in her bedroom. “Thanks for doing this,” she said to Z’ev.

  “Helping
rescue Donny? What am I supposed to do—let him get killed and you get killed trying to stop it?”

  “Nobody’s getting killed,” said Nikki. “It’s going to be fine.”

  Z’ev finished strapping on the P226 and handed her his Glock and extra magazines. “You keep saying that, but I’m not sure what you’re basing it on.”

  Nikki felt herself bristle. She was good at her job. If she could take down Val Robinson or keep Kit Masters from getting himself killed, she was pretty sure that she could put the kibosh on a small time sheriff in a small time town in the middle of nowhere. But she couldn’t say any of that. She opened her mouth and shut again, swallowing her pride, and turning back to her gun.

  “Nothing? Can you just say something?” demanded Z’ev. “Anything that makes this somewhat OK?”

  Nikki took a deep breath. She needed to say something. She could see it in his face. She had to say something or she was going to lose him. This was it. She was going to do it. Now or never. Time to jump.

  “Nikki?” Nell opened the door, her face tear-stained, and a Kleenex clutched in one hand. She looked from Z’ev, with his gun strapped to his leg, to Nikki with the Glock in one hand and the SIG on her waist, and froze.

  “I cannot catch a break today,” said Nikki.

  “Nikki, what’s going on?” asked Nell.

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” said Nikki, pushing her back into the hall. “We have to go help Donny right now.”

  “But, but,” Nell trailed after them bubbling like a steam trolley. “I don’t approve of guns.”

  “I picked up your grandma’s gun,” said Jane, from the foot of the stairs. “And the holster, speed loader, and a box of bullets. Do we need anything else?”

  “But,” said Nell staring at the gun in Jane’s hand.

  “Nope, a break cannot be caught,” said Z’ev.

  “I give up,” said Nikki.

  “Might as well,” said Z’ev.

  “Mom, I love you. We’re leaving now. We’ll talk when we get back. If you want to fight some more with Grandma while we’re gone, you should ask her why she hasn’t told us she’s dating Jorge.”

  “Your grandmother is dating Jorge?” Nell’s eyes snapped away from the gun and to Nikki’s face.

  “I saw them making out,” said Nikki. “You should go ask her about it.”

  “Oh, you bet I will.” Nell was already stomping back up the stairs.

  “I can’t believe that worked,” said Z’ev, scratching his chin.

  “She gets focused on the small stuff when she can’t deal with big stuff,” said Nikki.

  “Are we leaving now?” asked Jane. She was carrying the gun in one hand and her case of Carrie Mae products in the other.

  “We’re leaving,” agreed Nikki. “Where are the girls?”

  “Jackson and Ellen are already on the road and I think Jenny’s in the car.”

  “Great, let’s go.”

  “That’s a lot of make-up,” said Z’ev.

  “Well, you know, it always pays to look good,” said Jane uncomfortably, hurrying to avoid eye contact.

  The drive over to Crazy Cooter’s was silent. Nikki wanted to say something, but couldn’t find any words to say. She really didn’t have anything that would make all of this in anyway ‘OK’.”

  Crazy Cooter was driving a riding lawn mower with the mower removed through the compound when they arrived. He’d hitched a little wagon to it and stacked the wagon full of gallon jugs of water.

  “You’re back,” he said frowning.

  “We ran into a slight problem,” said Nikki. “The sheriff kidnapped Donny Fernandez.”

  Cooter gaped. “But what do we do? We can’t call the cops.”

  “I’ve arranged a trade,” said Nikki, “but it would be better if you weren’t here.”

  “I can’t leave,” said Cooter. “They’ve got a fire watch across the river. All it takes is one airborne spark and this place would go up like a can of napalm. I need to wet down the grass and clear the brush and…” He trailed off, looking at Nikki’s face. “OK, I’ll go.” It took five minutes for Cooter to pack up and chug away down the road in a car that looked like it had been put together from junkyard rejects.

  The dust had barely settled when Ellen and Jackson walked out of the freezer section. Ellen had Jackson’s hunting rifle strapped to her back. Jackson was carrying Bill Bartlby’s AK. Nikki liked it when Ellen went into shooting mode. She ditched her teacher’s wife pose all together and the aviator sunglasses came out. The billowy skirts and scarves were removed, her hair got pulled back and suddenly it was like Ellen came into focus. She looked cool. Nikki tried not to say it, because she knew it made Ellen feel old, but she wanted to be like Ellen when she grew up.

  “We look clear over here,” said Ellen. “I think we’ve beat them here.”

  “Good,” said Nikki.

  “OK, Ladies,” said Jane, opening the make-up case. “Here are your ear pieces.” She held out her hand with what appeared to be two sets of butterfly earrings.

  “Oh, no. Really?” Ellen made a disgusted face. “Those Mark-4’s are so crappy!”

  “I know, but I had to turn in the good kit,” said Jane apologetically. “Sorry. This is what we have.”

  Ellen sighed and picked up an earring. “It’s not your fault we got suspended. It’s mine. We’re extremely lucky you managed to keep any equipment at all. Thanks for looking after us.”

  Jane looked startled and pleased. “You’re welcome,” she said, then cleared her throat awkwardly. “Anyway, sync them to your phones.” Nikki and Jenny each took an earring and Nikki moved one of the diamond studs Z’ev had given her up to the second hole in her ear and replaced it with the butterfly. Her phone took a second to sync, but then it went live.

  “I give myself very good advice, but I very seldom follow it,” quoted Jenny.

  “Imagination is the only weapon in the war against reality,” replied Jane.

  “I knew who I was this morning, but I’ve changed a few times since then,” said Ellen, which was her favorite quote to test with.

  “We’re all mad here,” said Nikki, with a little more sincerity than usual.

  “Loud and clear on all frequencies,” said Jane, giving them the thumbs up.

  “I get the feeling they’ve done this before,” said Jackson.

  “Mm,” said Z’ev. “So do I.”

  Jane began to pull out the telescoping shelves of the make-up kit. “Jenny, the guns are in the bag in the back seat, if you want to take your pick.”

  Jenny opened the bag and then squealed in delight. “Oh, my God, is this your grandma’s gun? It’s so adorable.” She held up the .357 Smith & Wesson. “Look at the engraving. I love it. It’s a real live cowboy gun. And it has its own tooled leather holster.” She hopped up and down a little in excitement. “Jackson, you can have the Glock.”

  “I’m not taking a handgun,” said Jackson. “I don’t know how to shoot.”

  Jenny looked as if Jackson had announced he was gay. “But, but, you have the rifle.”

  “Because I hunt deer that I later eat,” said Jackson. “I’m not planning on eating any people, so I don’t plan on shooting any people.”

  Ellen snorted. “Jackson, you’re breaking her heart.”

  “I didn’t say she couldn’t shoot people, but I’ve never learned how to shoot handguns,” he held up his hand as Jenny’s face lit up. “And I’m not particularly interested in learning. I’m only here to get Donny out, remember? I’ll be the wheelman, or the muscle, or whatever else you need, but I don’t really think you should trust me with a gun.”

  “He’s right,” said Nikki. “If he doesn’t already know, then it’s too late to be teaching him. It’d be a waste of ammo.”

  “That’s hardly a rousing vote of confidence for your friend,” said Z’ev, looking offended on Jackson’s behalf.

  Nikki blinked. She’d forgotten he was there. He was doing his fly on the wall thing, which he was surpri
singly good at for being so big. “I have every confidence in Jackson to do what he’s good at. He’s told me his limitations and I’d be an idiot not to respect that. We have limited resources and I need to put every bullet where I know it’s going to count.”

  “People can’t grow if you don’t trust them outside their boundaries.”

  “If the stakes were lower or if Jackson were actually interested in learning, sure. But Donny doesn’t have the luxury of finding out Jackson can’t shoot straight.”

  “I’m with her,” said Jackson, nodding. “That being said, who gets the AK?” He held up the gun and looked around the circle.

  “Nikki,” said Ellen, and Jane in unison.

  “Oh, come on guys,” said Nikki. “Be sensible. It can’t be me. I can’t show up to the exchange with an AK. Jenny, won’t you feel better with a Freddy replacement?”

  Jenny looked tempted, as she strapped on the ornate leather holster for the .357. “I would, but the exit plan calls for me to be in the junk section.” She jerked her chin toward the maze of flattened cars. “It’s close quarters; hand guns are more practical.”

  “Are you feeling OK?” asked Jane, reaching over to feel Jenny’s forehead.

  Jenny swatted Jane’s hand away. “Situation dictates the strategy,” she said, quoting their training officer, and the rest of the girls groaned.

  “Don’t start quoting Mrs. Boyer to us,” said Ellen. “Or I’ll have a PTSD flashback and punch you in the boobs.”

  “I’ll take it,” said Z’ev. “How did you talk him into loaning you an AK-47 anyway?”

  Jackson shrugged. “I told him we were target shooting and he was happy to do it. Ever since that damn Initiative 594 went into effect, it’s a crime to loan someone a gun without doing a background check, so this was his chance to have a tiny, political protest.”

  “And it never occurred to him that you might do something illegal with the gun?” asked Z’ev, looking perplexed by Bill Bartlby’s careless gun safety attitude.

  “He’s known me since I was two—what trouble could I possibly get up to?”

  Z’ev shrugged and took the gun. “OK, Chief,” he said turning to Nikki, “What do we do next?”