Trapped in the Mayan Tattoo

by Ronda Pauley

  “I brought it in myself,” Lowell said. “There are clean sheets inside.”

  Abbi posed with a fake smile. So he knew.

  “I sleep anywhere. Anytime. Right, Lowell?” Calista gushed, and gave Lowell a peck on the cheek. Then she added, “Can’t you stay, Lowell? You were wonderful! So big and strong!”

  The rush of jealousy that hit Abbi would not leave. Neither would Calista. When Lowell politely but stiffly refused to stay, she tried to reign in her jealousy and unbridle her manners.

  “Thanks, Lowell. I’ll see that Calista will be right at home here,” she said, waving her arms to indicate the cramped suite with its cots pushed together. She didn’t know how sincere she sounded. “Ya know, I sat on this thing, and there ya go, Calista! I’m sure you’ll be all comfy.”

  OMG, thought Abbi. I sound like a still-running hillbilly. Stop talking.

  Abbi bent over the loveseat to roll it out into a bed. When Lowell offered to help, Abbi felt uncomfortably underdressed. In that position, her tank top revealed more than she wanted.

  “This is easy,” she said, standing up quickly. “I can get it.”

  When Lowell tried to make his exit, Calista slid her fingers through his hair.

  “Thanks, Lowell. You were simply wonderful!” Calista said again. “Do you have to go?” Her voice made a deep cooing sound.

  Then Calista turned him around and ran her fingers up the buttons on Lowell’s shirt and up to his ear and then gave it a little pinch.

  “Actually, you could help with this, Calista,” Abbi said, interrupting.

  “Si. Just let me drop my jacket somewhere,” Calista said, still cooing and looking at Lowell.

  Everything about Calista seemed suggestive. The way Calista removed her jacket looked seductive, bringing to mind the well-rehearsed moves of a stripper. Abbi noticed that Lowell noticed.

  “If you girls have this under control, I’ll see you in the morning,” Lowell said. He seemed in a hurry.

  Abbi understood and said, “Sure!”

  “You’ll be right next door?” Calista asked, looking at Lowell over a raised shoulder. Calista’s suggestive behavior nagged at Abbi, but underneath that charade was something else, something much more ominous. Abbi was sure she had seen Calista somewhere before.

  The door closed behind Lowell, and Calista moved toward Abbi, as if intentionally provoking a confrontation.

  In a much different tone of voice, she said, “God! I thought he’d never leave!”

  FIFTY-FIVE

  Louise stayed in bed, apparently sleeping. Abbi could hear her tossing restlessly. If Louise were up, would Calista be acting this way?

  “Calista, want to help out here?” Abbi asked as attempted to cool down Calista’s body language. She tugged at the seat of the couch to make it into a bed.

  When Calista turned toward her, Abbi saw something that made her suddenly felt weak. Across Calista’s inner left forearm was a reddish, freshly-inked tattoo. Abbi tried to get a closer look. Calista kept moving just out of range for Abbi to see it clearly. Abbi cautiously reached down into the base of the couch to pull out sheets and a blanket.

  “Calista, can you get that blanket out?” Abbi asked and hoped to get a better view of the arm tattoo.

  “When you’re this hot, you don’t really need one,” Calista said, not laughing.

  Abbi began to wonder if Calista was on a behavior-altering drug.

  “I’m in no hurry to sleep,” Calista said and looked sideways at Abbi.

  “Well, it’s been a long day for me, and I need to be fresh in the morning,” Abbi said. “Let’s get these sheets on. You can leave off the blanket. Can you grab that end?”

  Calista just stood and brushed her hair back behind her ears and took another step closer. Abbi saw something much more clearly now. What looked like a mole or a beauty mark on the left cheekbone was not what it appeared to be. Instead of being a mole, it turned out to be a tattoo—a special tattoo, obviously in the shape of a teardrop!

  The girl with the mole. Now Abbi remembered. Watching the Pelletiers’ house. Passing slowly in the blue mini-van. Blocking the garage.

  As Calista extended her arm to pick up a sheet, it was as if slow motion set in for Abbi. Calista’s left forearm extended and then, through its fresh reddish halo, the tattoo became clearly visible. Identical to one of her mother’s drawing, this was the dreaded flying NM with the 2 on top!

  Abbi stopped tugging on the sheet of the bed and thought about moving slowly toward the bathroom to be alone and think about this new development. But curiosity took hold and she felt compelled to stay, to see what Calista had in mind. The teardrop tattoo, placed under the eye, signified a killing. Quite an accomplishment if someone had been through an initiation for a human trafficking ring! She couldn’t leave Louise alone with her, but she wasn’t sure she should stay. She herself might be a target. Suddenly she knew she had to remove herself from the situation.

  “Your tattoos--pretty artsy!” Abbi said, as if oblivious to their meanings but knowing enough to strike at Calista’s forearm if she needed to act in self-defense.

  “Si. Not to worry. I can tell you, you’ll sleep well tonight, Abbi, and I won’t be staying here.”

  Red flag!

  “Wherever you stay, I have to use the bathroom,” Abbi said.

  Abbi backed up from Calista and picked up her cell phone, unplugging its charger. She slid the phone into the pocket of her sweatpants. Her mind raced. She couldn’t talk and she couldn’t stay there.

  She quickly backed into the bathroom, shut the door, locked it securely and called Lowell. No answer.

  She texted: DANGER. GET CALISTA OUTTA HERE!

  Lowell texted back: SHE’S FLIRTY. AIN’T NO THING. GO TO SLEEP.

  “NO!” Abbi texted.

  Lowell texted, “GOODNIGHT!”

  “SOS!”

  The knock on the bathroom door shook Abbi.

  Calista’s voice was hoarse now, not cooing, when she said, “I gotta pee fast. Let me in.”

  “Wait a minute. Be right out,” Abbi said, trying not to panic. Keep talking, Calista, she thought. That way I know Louise is OK.

  “I spent the day with Lowell,” Calista said. “We had the chance to talk a lot. It turns out your mother and I have mutual, uh, acquaintenances. They sent me to introduce myself to you. Everyone’s asleep here. They’re no fun. Want to go out for a drink or something?”

  Abbi tried to buy time. She needed a water bottle or something like it. Louise’s shampoo bottle! She grabbed it.

  “No, sorry, can’t go out tonight. Too much going on tomorrow!”

  “Oh, come on, Abbi! I’d do anything to get where I’m going. It’s just business, you know.”

  Abbi opened the bathroom door slightly. As soon as she did, she saw the shine of a knife blade wedging into the opening.

  “Abbi, you can help me. Go out with me and we’ll, uh, talk. You can have a hellava time and I’ll gain me some points.”

  “What kind of points?”

  “Street cred.”

  “For your gang?”

  “You could say that. It’s a business organization is what it is, and I’m gonna make it to the top, with your help. Let’s go somewhere and talk business.” Calista’s accent was becoming thicker.

  Abbi threw a bar of soap at the wall connecting the bathroom with headquarters next door.

  “Lowell!” Abbi called.

  “You shouldn’t a done that. He can’t help you. Besides, this really has nothing to do with you. I told you, it’s just business,” Calista said. “Nothin’ personal at all. Besides, he’ll believe anythin’ I tell him.”

  Angry that Lowell ignored her plea, Abbi knew she had to handle this herself. She mouthed a silent prayer. She would have to think fast. Say the right thing. Make the right moves. Courageously, calmly, yet unaware of her own strength, she opened the door to Calista and jammed the shampoo bottle into Calista’s Adam’s apple.

  Calista w
ent down.

  “The bathroom’s all yours,” Abbi said, and kicked the knife out of Calista’s hand as Calista gasped for air. The knife blade stuck into the bathroom wall.

  An instant later, Calista tried to respond, giving a feeble kick with her leg. Abbi side-stepped and slapped Calista’s forearm hard. She also made contact with a kicking maneuver, jutting one foot quickly to Calista’s abdomen and then to her back when she rolled.

  For a brief moment Abbi stared and wondered about her own strength. She speed-dialed Big Sam.

  “You beech!” Calista yelled as she scrambled to retrieve her knife from the bathroom.

  “Louise, get Lowell,” Abbi yelled. She reached the knife first and threw it toward the apartment door just seconds before the door opened. Calista’s hands had grabbed her legs, causing Abbi to fall.

  In walked Lowell, followed closely by Big Sam.

  “I didn’t do nothin’! We were just talkin’ and she like explodes on me!” Calista said in a hoarse voice as she pulled herself up. Then, rubbing her throat, she turned to Abbi accusingly.

  “Come on,” Big Sam said, taking Calista by the arm and pulling her up to a standing position. “Interesting little show you put on!”

  “Abbi, I wasn’t going to hurt you! You know that!” Calista said. “I thought we could be friends. Why did you attack me?”

  “We know what you were doing,” Lowell said. He touched Abbi’s arm and indicated the camera on the ceiling.

  “Por nada,” said Calista, brushing it off. “Lowell, I’ll tell you what really happened.”

  “I got the picture,” Lowell said.

  Big Sam moved Calista next door to headquarters and recited the Miranda rights to her before questioning.

  Lowell stayed with Abbi and Louise in their apartment and assured them that everything had been caught on video. Louise smiled, sitting up on her cot.

  “When did that camera get there? Is that what it is?” Abbi asked, as she pointed to a tiny device on the ceiling.

  Louise looked smug and said, “It wasn’t as easy to install as Miss Sobori said it would be.”

  “Louise, how’d you…”

  “A chair and Dad’s handy dandy little tool, but STILL!”

  “So this was a set-up! Louise!!!” Abbi said, amazed that Louise really did something. “And you, Lowell!”

  “We suspected something was up. That’s why HT wanted Calista here. She knew Calista was trying to get into NM2. She was also way too curious about Miss Shoe’s daughter,” Lowell said.

  “How’d she know?” Abbi asked.

  “Beats me. That woman has some special receiver or something. She’s out there.”

  “Not Mrs. Hightower. How did Calista know that much about me?”

  Lowell moved out to the hallway.

  “Lowell!” Abbi called as she followed.

  When Calista was led away in handcuffs, she passed Abbi and Lowell who stood in the hallway, Lowell looking down at his feet and still not answering.

  “I jus think you’re sexy, Abbi. Is that so wrong?” Calista said. “You, too, Lowell. I was jus playin’. Didn’t you know that?”

  Calista turned to Big Sam, struggling to get out of the handcuffs.

  “Nothin’ happened in there. I asked her out. She thought I was comin’ onto her too strong. Then she slapped me. The bitch tried to kill me! She pulled a knife! What’s that all about?” Calista ranted all the way down the stairs.

  Big Sam yelled back to Abbi that the guys next door needed Abbi’s statement. As Calista left the building, Abbi and Lowell walked to the conference room where Abbi related the incidents as they actually occurred, facts that were corroborated by recorded sound and video—from both inside the apartment and from the conference room through the two-way mirror.

  Abbi was so angry with Lowell that her teeth were clinched and she was seething. There were things he wasn’t telling.

  By this time, Abbi was convinced that Calista had probably committed newsworthy acts before. After her statement, Abbi asked permission to use a computer to search for an archived news report. Her first search was for information on a stabbing of a teenager in the Killing Forest. Mr. Pelletier came over to see. After she found the story, she asked him to look closely at a video of a suspicious person.

  Mr. Pelletier replayed that part and called over some of the staff members who were already familiar with Calista. They knew her as a volunteer interpreter with non-profit service providers. The video helped confirm her identity as the murder suspect who had evaded the law. Information, including a tattoo on the victim, helped establish Calista’s involvement with NM2.

  “And now she sports that forearm tattoo,” Mr. Pelletier said. “She has to be the one.”

  Analysts for the Bureau were apparently going to work all night. They seemed particularly happy to be able to connect Calista’s involvement in the unsolved case with the Missing Shoe case. The news video mentioned a man named Fernando who seemed to be a decision-maker for NM2. They were anxious to question Calista further to see if he had been the one who sent her this time. If so, it seemed likely that Ramon also worked for him.

  “Calista was out for herself, fame and fortune,” Abbi said when Big Sam returned.

  “You are exactly on track, little lady,” Big Sam said. “Your ability to pick up little details of significance means that, if you ever want to consider this line of work, the Bureau could use you. By the way, you passed the test. You’ll be on the drop mission we’re putting together. The agents here think you have a sixth sense or some kind of special magic. With luck, the result will be your mother’s release.”

  “Funny, I’ve heard the same thing said about Mrs. Hightower!”

  Big Sam smiled. “So have I.”

  Lowell moved closer to Abbi and wanted to explain his actions privately, out in the hallway.

  “Abbi, about Calista. The bureau couldn’t go on a feeling. HT had a hunch. Calista was too persistent about this case. Calista called HT over and over, and said she works as an interpreter for some service providers. HT had bought the ticket and had seen this movie before. She thought she had the right person, but she needed proof. Having you here as bait helped them catch her. Calista already has quite a history of attacking girls using a knife.”

  “She wants to get to the top of NM2. Imagine! She’s strictly playing her own game,” Abbi said. “A game that might have been the end of me! I was BAIT!!!” She cast Lowell a sideways accusation.

  “Sorry I wasn’t there sooner. But the video of the attack is fabulous! It will play out well in court. Great action shots! You made an upper jab with your left hand that was a little sloppy, though.”

  Abbi quickly put Lowell in a headlock. Then she smiled and said, “I have to admit, your lessons came in handy. You have things you’re not telling, don’t you?”

  Lowell returned Abbi’s aggression with a move of his own, studied her eyes and nodded. Then he hugged her. Abbi started to pull away.

  “Wait!” Lowell said, not letting her go. “First, I need to check you for bumps and bruises!”

  Abbi felt amazing and fell back into his hug.

  FIFTY-SIX

  Thoughts of Lowell occupied Abbi’s mind as she finally got into bed and hummed a little tune. Lying down, she felt the feng shui of the room. Maybe she learned its secret—that it comes from inside the person. Rooms don’t feel. People do. Or maybe the secret was in the way Lowell looked at her or maybe it the embrace they shared.

  All of Abbi’s bad feelings—the anger, resentment, confusion, sadness, and jealousy—had gone away. Abbi had entered a state of equilibrium. For whatever reason, Abbi felt balanced, the feeling that it might all work out.

  She looked at Louise in the dim light. Louise had been restless earlier, right before Calista came. Abbi knew now that it was an act. Louise wasn’t asleep then. But now she snored deeply.

  Abbi fell into a sleep that ended much too soon, before dawn, interrupted when she heard someone in the hall.
After two short knocks, Abbi rose to find Lowell waiting patiently on the other side of the door.

  “Searching for the missing shoe,” he said.

  “Some Gate Keeper,” Abbi said with a sleepy smile.

  “I do my job.”

  “Really?” asked Abbi, half-teasing as she threw him a punch. “Was it fun?”

  “We were right there.”

  “Watching! Yeah, I’d say you had your fun,” Abbi said with a twisted smile.

  Lowell looked down at his feet.

  “You handled it well,” he said.

  “And what if I hadn’t?”

  “I have very strong faith in you,” Lowell said. He handed her some bags. “A gift from Miss Sobori, well the Bureau, actually. Miss Sobori will be involved somewhere else for awhile. Hurry and dress.”

  “Why? It’s early and I’m tired!” Abbi said, protesting, feeling exhausted.

  “Get Weezy.”

  Abbi went to Louise. If Louise had ever had a sense of adventure, it went missing a long time ago.

  “Why do they need me?” she asked.

  “Not them. I need you. Moral support,” Abbi said.

  “You’re moral enough,” Louise said. “Any more moral and you’d be a nun.”

  “Not true,” Abbi said firmly. “You keep me out of trouble. Wait a minute. Do you have any clue how much trouble we were in last night when Calista came? Did you know about her?”

  “Calista came?”

  “You’re unbelievable,” Abbi said with a laugh.

  “Come on, Weezie. Today’s the day!” Lowell said.

  Louise reluctantly crawled out of bed and yawned. Abbi played around with her wig. Louise did her makeup. Then the two girls tried on their new matching clothes, except for the fact the Abbi wore a leotard under hers.

  “Twins!” Abbi said.

  “You got the muscles, I got the flab,” Louise said. “And then there’s the fact of your permanent tan! No, not twins.”

  Abbi grinned. It was great to finally know where her “perma-tan” came from!

  They could hear murmurings and the shuffling of feet in the hallway. People were coming for the early-morning briefing to hear all about the most recent events and the rescue plan.