But she needed to find her mother soon, before the day was done. Elsie would not be able to sleep tonight if she didn’t do something.
She needed weapons to fight Biggins.
“Kevin, sweetie,” she said. Elsie took a deep breath. “I know this is hard, trusting other people for help. But you got to trust me. Okay?”
God, who was she to say high and mighty things about trust?
Kevin wiped his forehead and face with both hands. He sighed. “Do you know what business Biggins really is in?”
“No.”
“Puppies.”
“What?” What the fuck?
“You heard me,” Kevin said. “Puppies. She operates a puppy mill network throughout the States and Canada. It’s a cover for other things she does, like weapons smuggling and such. But her primary crime is puppy mills.”
“Okay.” Elsie wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or slap Kevin for being such a good liar. Far as she could tell, he was telling the truth.
“I know it sounds like bullshit,” he said. “But it’s true.”
“Then how did you…”
Kevin leaned forward, and touched her forearm. His fingertips were warm and tender. “I used to spy for a puppy chow corporation.”
“Okay.” Elsie had a hard time thinking of a more appropriate response to what he was saying. She cleared her throat. “Those puppy mills must’ve been lucrative for your bosses.”
“Exactly.” Kevin rubbed her forearm. He looked her in the eyes. “Stealing dog food recipes was boring work. I wanted out.”
“I can understand.”
“So I revealed the puppy mill chain to a rival corporation. It felt like the right thing to do before I moved on to new work. But somehow Biggins learned about me. She wanted money at first, and then she threatened to out me to my new bosses.”
“So let me guess. She’s had you in her pocket ever since?”
“Yup. I know, stupid story. But I’ve never gotten rid of her. I didn’t even know she was a female until today. And today she sent an email, demanding the rest of the money she wants.”
Elsie touched Kevin on the cheek. She bit her lip, trying to hold back a laugh that demanded to be released. Stealing puppy chow recipes? Puppy mills? Elsie would’ve killed to have such ludicrous problems. The Wall Street executives she seduced for a job were vicious assholes.
Dog food makers sounded… quaint.
Her cell phone buzzed. A text message.
A picture from her mother, of a brown wooden sign that read “Mendota Bluffs” in white paint and an arrow.
“I know where Mom is,” said Elsie. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Twelve
Kevin shifted the LaSabre in gear and drove five miles over the speed limit to Mendota Bluffs. It wasn’t far, and would’ve made a lovely walk if money and potentially lives weren’t at stake.
Hands on the wheel and eyes laser-focused on the road, Kevin pretended to be in the zone. Truth was, he felt sweet relief from talking with Elsie, and that was mildly distracting. For so long he’d worried Elsie wouldn’t understand him, that she would forever be an outsider to his inner world.
Instead, Kevin had found a kindred spirit.
Someone who could relate to the difficulties and treacheries of the spy world. Kevin was on cloud nine. The feeling of being understood both excited and scared him at the same time.
Unfortunately, he had Biggins to thank for how he found out the truth about Elsie. He didn’t know if he’d ever find out the entire truth about Elsie. But the spy business was hard with all the secrets, and both she and Kevin could mutually understand the need for such secrets.
He only wished the blackmail would go away, so he could be truly happy for his upcoming wedding. At least he hoped Elsie still wanted to marry him.
She said something. She sat with one hand hand in her lap, and the opposite elbow resting on the windowsill.
“Say what?” Kevin asked.
“You’re going to miss the turn!” Elsie snapped, pointing at the street he was supposed to turn at, nag-voice on full blast.
Kevin slammed the brakes and spun the wheel lightening quick. The tires screeched as the Buick spun 270 degrees. Elsie pressed her palms flat against the dashboard. Heart pounding in his head, Kevin righted the car with a fast turn of the wheel and a gentle tap on the accelerator.
“Well,” Elsie said, sarcastic venom dripping from her words, “there goes the element of surprise.”
She stared at him through slitted eyes, face red and not at all pleased looking.
Kevin smirked like a boy with a shoebox full of captured lizards. Yes, he was happy, all things considered.
But why did the day have to be such a roller-coaster?
“Do you have a gun?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Elsie. “No. Never mind. Can I borrow one of yours?”
“What do you mean, yes but no?”
“Have a gun. But not on me.”
“You don’t carry a spare?”
“Fuck it, Kev. How many hiding places do you think lady’s clothes have?”
“What makes you think I have a spare?” Damn it! Kevin had a spare in his ankle holster, a 9mm. Did he trust Elsie enough to lend it to her?
“Do you know a guy named Zack Gibbs?” said Elsie.
“No,” said Kevin. “Wait. Is he on the guest list?”
The list was short. Basically friends and family. Neither Kevin nor Elsie had much family, which made sense now. Spies tend to cut ties early on in their career, just something that happens. Kevin had wondered why Elsie only had a mother and a small circle of friends. For a long while, she didn’t even have a maid-of-honor, which surprised Kevin at the time.
“If you see Zack,” said Elsie, “shoot him for me, will you? You’ll recognize him by the douchey leer he gives me.”
“Will do.”
Kevin pulled into the parking lot at the base of Mendota Bluffs. A wooden “Welcome” sign graced the entrance. Only two other cars were in the lot, one was a Lincoln Towncar, the other a red GTO convertible. At least the park would be quiet. Fewer bystanders, the better.
Kevin bent down and unholstered the 9mm. “Here,” he said. “Take it.”
“Thank you,” said Elsie. She weighed the gun in her hand, and then slipped it in her front pocket, under her blouse. “It’s similar to my Smith & Wessen.”
“Glad you appreciate it.”
“A lady should know her guns,” she squeezed his thigh and glanced down at his lap. “Of all kinds.”
A little tingle shot through Kevin, making him feel warm. He smiled, and thought about leaning forward to kiss her. Just a peck on the mouth, to show her how he appreciated her.
But they had other things to do.
He got out of the car.
All business now, they walked across the hot black top parking lot to the trail that wound up to the bluffs. Kevin wanted to hold Elsie’s hand, comfort her. Seemed the romantic thing to do when hiking on a nature trail.
But he resisted the urge, and simply walked close to her shoulder. For her protection, of course.
“Why did Biggins take your mother here?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Elsie said. She peered at him from her periphery, behind her hair. “I used to go up this trail as a kid. To get away.”
“Your mother know you up here?”
“Probably. No telling what she knew. Hell, the woman was a spy long before I even knew what that meant. I’m sure she knows more about my private youth life than I care to remember.”
“Such as?”
“What’s with the twenty questions, mister?” Elsie nudged him with her elbow, a crooked grin gracing her lips.
Kevin nudged back, gently but enough to unbalance her in her wedge sandals. Elsie staggered, arms flailing and a light-hearted giggle accidentally escaping. Kevin caught her by the upper arm and righted her.
She pressed a hand against his chest, sighed, and then pushed him away.
&
nbsp; “Come on,” she said. “Mom could be in trouble.”
“You’re right,” said Kevin, hands held out. “I’m professional now.”
He checked his pistol in the holster, and straightened his jacket.
“Good.” Elsie turned and headed up the dirt and wood-chip trail. She was a sight to see, hiking up a hill in wedges. She didn’t seem to think too much of it.
Kevin’s patent leather shoes weren’t much better, but at least he had some support. The shoes would need a lot of polish afterwards, if they could even be salvaged.
The trail wound through a thick forest of pine and maple trees, the canopy thick enough to block out the late afternoon sunlight. It was like walking into a church with high vaulted ceilings, being closed in from the outside yet still communing with the larger world.
Kevin tried to walk quiet, but the trail had far too many twigs that snapped with each step. Elsie was right about the element of surprise being gone.
The trail got steeper, winding criss-cross back and forth up the bluff.
Voices were up ahead. Kevin tapped Elsie on the shoulder, finger to his mouth. He pointed ahead, and she nodded. They stopped to listen, but the voices were too far away and the words hardly decipherable.
So they climbed slower now. Kevin got out his gun, and held it behind his back. Elsie checked to make sure the 9mm was still in her pocket, but she didn’t draw.
The voices got closer. Up ahead, through the trees and around the bend in the trail, was Gertrude, Biggins, and Nikolai. A shovel was stuck in the ground near the big man in the badly tailored suit.
“Where is it Gertie?” said Molly Biggins, a rough and impatient edge to her accent.
“Do you expect me to remember this after five years?” Gertrude’s voice. She sounded tired, but confident. A little cocky.
“Da. I am surprised at your ineptitude, darling.”
Kevin grabbed Elsie by the wrist and led her further up the trail. Closer to trouble. They walked even slower, almost a crawl, avoiding every stick in the path.
“Look,” Gertrude said loudly. “There’s a lot of damn trees up here. Give me a minute to find it.”
“I love you, darling,” said Biggins. “But things will get ugly if you don’t.”
A revolver clicked. And then a second. Kevin could see Nikolai and Biggins both holding guns at Gertrude now.
Kevin drew his pistol and stepped in front of Elsie, holding an arm out to keep her back.
He ran. Blood and adrenaline pumped through his brain. His thighs burned from the uphill exertion.
Gertrude, Biggins, and Nikolai were standing in a clearing that overlooked sleepy Wenakaga.
Kevin leaped around the corner, out of cover.
“Kevin!” Elsie yelled. “Watch out!”
Too late. Kevin was already committed to his action. He ran even faster.
He stopped just at the edge of the clearing.
And then he felt the muzzle of a gun behind his head.
And the click of a bullet being loaded in the chamber.
Shit.
Chapter Thirteen
The practical thing would’ve been to take off her wedge sandals before running up the incline to the bluff. But that would’ve taken precious seconds.
The even more practical thing would’ve been to wear actual shoes.
Far too late now.
Elsie was fit and strong, but her calves and ankles were going to pay for this later. She ran after Kevin, who got the not-so-smart idea to jump into the fray and be a hero.
She felt a little weak in the knees watching her man be bold and confident. Heat swelled between her thighs as she charged after him. If he didn’t get shot, she’d make passionate love to him all over again.
But that was later.
Right now, everyone in sight had a gun.
Out of the corner of her vision, she saw a glimmer of red pop out from behind a tree. A blond haired man in a red jogging suit.
He also had a gun. Her Smith & Wessen 9mm.
Elsie yelled for Kevin to watch out.
Once again, she was too late.
The man in red put the gun behind Kevin’s head.
“Zack!” Elsie shouted, pointing her borrowed gun at him. “You ass douche! Back off from my fiancee!”
Molly Biggins and Nikolai pointed their guns at Mom, who had her hands in the air. Kevin had Biggins in his sights.
Elsie was ready to shoot Zack a new asshole.
And take back the gun he stole, not to mention the dirty pictures he took with his cell phone.
“Back off my fiancee,” mumbled Zack, confident sarcasm oozing off his words. “Make me, bitch.”
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing here?” Elsie said, voice shaking. She was losing her cool, and she knew it. A warm breeze blowing in the wrong direction could set her off, and make her pull her trigger finger. Elsie didn’t want it to come to that.
But every nerve in her body tingled with energy, as if somebody lit a fuse to a bomb and she had only a few seconds left before it blew up.
“Molly, baby,” Zack said. “You look fantastic. Love the white suit. Makes you stand out in the woods more.”
Odd thing coming from a man in a bold red jogging suit. Fuck! How did Elsie not see him coming?
Biggins shifted her aim from Mom to Zack and, unfortunately, Kevin who was in the way.
“Darling,” she said. “Zack? Is it? I have to ask the same question as my dear friend, Elsie.”
With the word “friend,” Biggins curled her lip in a cruel Elvis-style pout, and winked. Elsie wanted to vomit.
“Collecting debts,” said Zack. “One from you,” he pointed Elsie’s gun at Mom. “Another from you,” pointing at Biggins.
“I owe you nothing,” Biggins hissed.
“And one from you, baby,” Zack pointed the gun at Elsie. He slapped Kevin on the shoulder. “Sorry bro, you’re the odd man out today.”
“You owe me,” Elsie said, finger on the trigger.
“Easy there, girl,” said Zack. “Don’t blow your load yet. We can do this the easy way, before someone does something stupid.”
Elsie gritted her teeth. And then lowered her gun, slightly. She exchanged glances with Biggins, and Mom, and then nodded to Zack.
“Good,” he said. “First things first. Both of you,” he pointed at Elsie and Kevin, “drop you guns and kick them away. Now.”
Elsie held out one hand, and bent her knees. A lump in her throat, she clicked the safety on, and tossed the gun on ground. And then kicked it toward Zack. She nodded to Kevin.
He followed her example, and tossed his gun behind him to Zack.
“Okay, okay,” said Zack, pointing off to his side. “Lovebirds, go over there for a minute.”
Elsie went to where Zack pointed, a few steps away from Molly Biggins. Elsie ignored the blond woman’s quirky leer. Biggins still smelled like fresh pussy.
Kevin stood next to Elsie. “I don’t have an extra gun,” he whispered.
“Don’t worry,” Elsie whispered back.
“Hey kids!” Zack said, training his gun on them both. “Cut the chatter for after class. Now you,” he aimed his gun at Biggins, “I want the black book.”
Biggins chuckled, her whole body shaking with laughter as if it were coming from the bottom of her toes.
“You?” she said. “Want the black book? What?”
“Don’t argue with me, skank. Just hand it over.”
“I said nyet. I don’t think you know what you’re asking for.”
“Money, power, secrets. I don’t care what’s in the book. I want it. And now.”
“Well you can’t have it.”
Mom stepped forward, a weird smile on her lips. The same smile she got when she used to trick Elsie into eating her vegetables.
“I think you should give it to him,” Mom said.
“Have you fallen off your rocker?” Biggins said. “You’d pay the price too, if he got hold of the black bo
ok.”
“Maybe. But so what? I’ve got my family to think of. Elsie and… umm, Kevin.”
“Do you remember where you hid it now?”
“Yeah,” said Mom. “It’s buried under the tree right behind you.”
Biggins snapped her fingers and pointed at the tree. “Nikolai. Dig.”
The big man with the scar got the shovel and started digging, grunting as he worked. He broke a sweat by the time the shovel hit something hard and metallic.
While everyone was distracted by the digging, Kevin reached over and held Elsie’s hand. She squeezed, and he squeezed back. The day had gone from bad to weird to just flat embarrassing. At least she still had her Kevin.
Nikolai knelt down lifted a metal lockbox out of the earth.
“Finally,” said Biggins. She took a key out of her pocket. “It better still be in here, Gertie.”
“I certainly haven’t touched,” said Mom.
Kevin leaned over to Elsie’s ear, his body heat close and warm, comforting her. “Do you know what this is about?”
“No clue,” whispered Elsie.
Biggins opened the lockbox, and took out a brown paper bag wrapped around something book-shaped. She opened the bag and looked inside.
“Still here,” she said. “After all these years. And you kept your word, Gertie.”
“You had doubts?” said Mom. “Look, you want it so bad, have it. Those years are behind me.”
Biggins pouted. “You don’t mean to say—“
“I mean exactly that. It’s over.”
“Okay.” Biggins wiped a hand across her face. Her eyes were red and her mascara smeared. She looked ready to bawl.
“Hey, cry babies,” Zack said, and put his gun to Elsie’s head. “Hand it over. Make it choppy.”
Kevin clenched his jaw tight, veins popping in his throat and forehead. Elsie clenched his hand.
“Molly,” said Mom. “The black book isn’t that important. It’s just a book.”
Biggins nodded, wiping away the tears on her cheeks. She kissed the paper bag, and handed it to Zack.
“See,” Zack said. “That wasn’t so hard. Elsie, baby, thanks again for the lovely photos. You remember my room number?”
Siren's Garter: Issue One August 2016 Page 7