by M. Garnet
I ducked down and went behind the dumpster. Luck was with me because they had not seen me come out. I moved backwards into the weeds along the fence behind the dumpster, but when they got close, I just crouched down. I froze in position. I heard the low voices as the men approached.
“There is something really wrong here.”
One man was speaking as he tried a door and found it locked.
“Yep, they are bringing in a second squad and taking all of us back to headquarters along with Myers.”
This statement came from the second man who was speaking in a low voice.
“Yeah, she is not supposed to have any training, so she had to have help in getting away. But who?”
“Shit, man, don’t ask me, I was in the outside van. I am still going to get my ass kicked.”
They had reached the back door to the salon and found it open.
“Hey, okay, let’s go in and check this.”
I waited until I was sure they were inside. I stayed in the weeds as I worked my way down to the road where I walked along the sidewalk. I had made a decision. I needed to get my backpack because it had money in it. I also needed to get to an attorney who would go in with me to the CIA or whoever wanted to talk with me.
I knew in my neighborhood of an attorney who was semi-retired. I had heard through the grapevine that he used to represent the city. Then, at one time, he had a big case for some poor folks against the city, and won. It took me most of the night to work my way to Gunther’s doghouse. Gunther was glad to see me, but I could tell he was nervous so I was pretty sure that there were some unknown men around. He let me take my backpack so to thank him I took a few minutes to make over him.
But he kept looking over at my house. I decided I wanted out of there before it got daylight. I went back over his chain link fence. I circled back a couple of blocks until I came around to the row of houses that were considerably larger. They sat behind a stucco wall with a gated entrance. The one thing I found interesting was that the entrance had a bike and walkway that was always open. I walked through and went to Attorney Cortland’s driveway to sit down. I looked at my watch. Five AM—too early to bother him.
A kid came by on a bike, throwing newspapers. I picked up the one for his house. I held it for another hour, then thought, what the hell. I rang the doorbell and was a little surprised when the man answered it himself. I knew he was married so I thought he probably had a maid or two.
“Well, that is a new way for my paper to come.” He smiled. He was tall slender with a lot of salt and pepper hair.
“Sir, my name is Michelle Tompson, I live a couple of blocks over and I need an attorney.”
He kept his smile, but he took the paper without inviting me into the house.
“Do you have my office number? I can give you my card?”
I looked at him for a moment and I knew my eyes were filling with tears.
“Mr. Cortland, I am in trouble with the CIA and if I try to meet you at your office they will pick me up before I ever get there. I want you to come with me to their office so I know that I will be able to walk out again.”
He stood there for a moment, then stepped back. “Come in and let’s get you some coffee. We can talk to see if I can help you settle down. You seem to be a bit upset right now.”
I followed him into the large house. He led me into his office and left me there for a short time. When he came back, he had a tray that had coffee cups, cream, and sugar.
“You think I am nuts,” I asked him now that I had the tears under control.
He looked at me while he poured. “Of course not. I think you seem to be very stressed.”
I reached down into my backpack to pull out some papers. “Here is a copy of my checking account as of last Friday. This is a copy of my two charge cards as of the same day. Here is a copy of my credit rating I pulled on Friday.” I handed him all the papers and waited while he looked at them carefully. He even pulled out a pair of glasses.
“It looks like you have taken care of your finances very well, Miss.” He looked at me with a puzzled face.
“May I use your computer? I would like you to look over my shoulder.” I moved around the desk. He had a nice PC, so I waited for him to nod agreement.
He slid his chair back giving me room to use the keyboard. I pulled up my checking account. It showed I was overdrawn, with a warning that this was the third time in thirty days. It also warned me that the bank was closing my account. I sent this to his printer, but I knew he had read the notice. I brought up the first credit card, but it notified me they had closed it for lack of payment. The second one read the same thing. Then, I ran my credit rating and it read Poor Five Hundred Twenty-five. I sent this to the printer and then walked over to it so I could pull out the papers and handed them to him.
He studied the papers for a few minutes. “You think the CIA did this?”
“I need to go in, but I need you to go with me so that I will come back out. Can I hire you for that type of action, and how much would it cost?” I pulled my backpack up and pulled out my cash. “This is all the money I have in the world right now. Is it enough?”
He looked at the papers for a few minutes, then he looked at the money. He took a long drink of his coffee.
“First, I want you to give me ten percent of what you have there. That is my fee for now. Then, I want you to tell me everything, from the start. It must be the truth, and do not leave anything out. Then, I will tell you if I can help you. We will decide if the help is by getting you to a doctor or by going with you to CIA’s downtown office today.”
I counted out the money and put the rest away. I picked up the cup of coffee, slid off my shoes and curled up in his chair to begin my story of Eyes of Dangerous Love from the beginning.
I told him about my strange warning system.
I slowly explained about meeting Tim the first time and the many other times.
I hesitated but, then told him about the bodies in the alley behind the church.
I opened my heart and let him know about how I was irrevocably in love with Tim, and how I felt he was in love with me.
I described what Tim told me about his life, his training and his duties.
I even sobbed as I recounted our four days of love and I went ahead and gave him details about safe houses and clean cars, etc.
I told him about the black helicopter.
I hesitated for only a moment and then shared the secret password.
I kept myself together as I shared about thinking Tim was dead.
I explained how I had burned the truck and finding my way home.
I then told him about the weird meeting with Tim yesterday without the password.
We had consumed all the coffee because it took hours to go through it all. At last, I was done and my throat was dry.
He sat there with his hands on the desk. Then, he looked at me. “I have taped all of this.”
I was shocked. I looked at him and didn’t know what to say.
He reached behind him to push a couple of buttons. A disk slid out of a standard TV. He spoke looking at the disc. “Normally, I would have just erased this after I told you I could not represent you and suggested you go to your pastor or a doctor. But I need to get this to a safe place to protect both of us.” He reached for his phone, then pushed a button that must have been a speed dial.
He waited a moment and then spoke. “Ellie, I have an urgent, high priority disk at my home. I need it picked up immediately and taken to Fred Cummings’ office with the normal instructions that if something happens to me he is to listen to it. Yes. Yes. Immediately.” He hung up the phone.
I looked at him in awe. “You believe me.”
“Yes, and I am going to represent you. But first, I am going upstairs to get dressed. The kitchen is in the back. Go get some orange juice along with something to eat. You look pretty ragged and we need you strong.” He put the disk in a plastic c
ase and then in a white envelope that had his name on it and Priority in red all over it.
He left the room, so I went to the kitchen, which was a bright clean room with lots of windows that did not seem part of my present world. I did find the orange juice. I found bagels and cream cheese. I even found out I could keep the food down, for a change. I heard the doorbell and I wandered back towards the front in time to see JB hand the white envelope to a uniformed man.
He turned and saw me. “Let’s talk and do some strategy.” He pointed to his office.
I followed him in and again curled up in the same chair.
“Why do you think they want to talk to you?” His voice was so calm as he asked me the question.
I thought about this for a while. “I guess to see how much I know. Also, Tim seemed to think that they have this one division that is always on the lookout for people with special talents, like a sixth sense, you know. He said that if they can’t use them, they don’t want anyone else to have them. He warned me to hide my silly little warning system that I have if I ever get questioned by them.”
“Paranoid jerks,” JB mumbled.
“Tim did tell me to tell them the truth if they ever did question me about everything else. Evidently they have people that can pick up on lies.” I added these details for JB.
JB raised his eyebrows at me.
I looked at him. “I can sometimes.”
He looked at me for a long time. “If we are in this office in Cincinnati and Tim or someone else denies that they touched your checking account, you might be able to tell if that were a lie?”
“Yep, I would probably pick up on something that was personal and important to me, especially if it was someone who was questioning me.” I nodded my head as I explained.
He nodded. “If you thought you were hearing a lie, and you were to brush your hair back, I might get a message that would help me, right?”
I smiled at him. “I promise not to fuss with my hair unless I stumble across a big lie. But remember, I might not catch all of them.”
“Okay, what we need is to get you cleaned up and surprise our friends in the Government.”
I looked at him. “I can’t get to my clothes at the house. They are watching it. I can buy some, I guess.”
He shook his head. He picked up his phone and this time he dialed. “Rose, I have a friend I need the whole nine yards. No she is not going into court, worse she is going to meet with the G O V. Yep, so clothes, hair do, make up. When she comes out, I want her to look like a New York Attorney. Put it on my account as usual. Love you.”
I looked at him and I know I was confused. “Now, what do I do and how do I pay for all of this?”
“Today you stay here, swim in the pool. You can watch TV, order pizza. I won’t be back until midnight. There are eight bedrooms in this house. Mine is on the first floor, so take your pick of any on the second. They all have locks on the doors. Try to get a good night’s sleep, because tomorrow we take on the enemy. Before we are done, we will sue and I will get one third. That is after expenses are paid.”
He got up, came around and patted my shoulder and then he was gone. I did what he suggested and ended the evening in a very nice room that had a flat screen TV big enough for a sports bar. I fell asleep with the TV on and woke up in the middle of the night when a salesman tried to sell me a spray washer for my house and car.
Chapter Sixteen
A type of Freedom
The next time I woke up it was seven. I got up, took a shower, opened a new toothbrush in the bathroom and felt pretty good. I went downstairs with my backpack to find JB up and dressed.
“Good morning, Mr. Cortland.”
He smiled. “Good morning, young lady, oh, and all my clients call me JB. Now, when you have some coffee, I will drop you off at Rose’s. We will let them do their magic. I use her services for all my clients when they need to get ready for court. Course I don’t do court much anymore, but there was a time when I really kept her busy.”
I skipped the coffee. A Cadillac Seville pulled in front so we took off for Rose’s Salon, the name I noticed printed on the dark tinted door. No signs, so pictures, just a classy glass exterior.
I walked into a waiting room that looked like a very expensive doctor’s office. A very attractive woman was sitting behind a small desk, but she rose up as soon as I entered.
“Are you Mr. Cortland’s appointment?” she asked with a large smile.
I felt a little awkward in my denims, but she acted as if I had on designer jeans. I nodded yes. She took me back down a hallway that had doors. She knocked on one that opened into a private room that had everything that any beauty salon would want. Wash sink, rows of bottles, changing booth, massage table, chairs, a large mirrored wall and dryers.
A young woman turned. She took my backpack and my purse and put them in a cabinet with a lock on the door. She turned and handed me the key, which was on a plastic ring to go around my wrist.
“If you would strip down to the buff behind the door, you will find a comfortable robe.” She left the room, so I did as told. Then, I was in for a treat. I had a shampoo girl, a manicurist, a pedicurist, along with a lady who sanded my legs—it didn’t hurt and all the stubble was gone. I was plucked, flossed, fluffed and buffed. Then, they got down to the serious business.
They applied make up, formed my hairstyle, nail polish, a skin tint, and then some measurements were taken.
I had a delicious light salad for lunch. At last, a gentleman came in with clothes.
He looked me up and down.
“No hose, but close-toed very high heels. Suit with straight skirt, but made with the slit on one side in front very high. No slip. Let’s have a silk blouse with sexy lace bra and panties to match. Two plain gold rings, one for first left finger, one for middle right finger and add a very fine gold watch. Long plain gold earrings that will move as she moves her head, they will draw attention to her neck. That is all.”
He left and after a few minutes, a couple of women came in with the clothes. They wanted to dress me, but I thought I could do most of it. First of all, I was amazed that it all fit so amazingly. When I got to the finishing touches, I let the girls help. When I looked in the mirror, I could not believe who I was seeing.
I looked good, I mean really good. I looked business-like, but also really sexy. I wondered if this is what JB had intended. I went out and walked slowly in the high heels. The man who had ordered the clothes was standing with JB, talking. They both stopped to examine me from top to bottom.
JB clapped his hands.
The man stepped over and pulled the sleeves of my blouse down so that they showed below the cuff of my jacket. He also unbuttoned another button, and when I moved, you could see a touch of the lace from my bra.
I cleared my throat. “Am I going to a hearing or to seduce someone?”
JB grinned. “Let’s hope we give a little distraction to the whole question-and-answer game these guys like to play.”
He held out his arm so I took it with a smile. One of the girls had already taken my key and retrieved my bags, then brought out my items in their fancy bags as she followed us outside.
There was a limo sitting at the curb. I looked at JB with a big question.
“Anything to throw them off their game.”
He helped me into the back. The driver closed the door after he got in. Evidently, the driver already knew where to go because he took off without any instructions.
“JB, how should I act, what should I say?”
“We have already worked out one little signal, so don’t forget it. As to what you should say, well, Tim was right as far as it goes, tell the truth. But take your time answering. That way, if I feel that I want to object, I will have time. Also, it will throw off their timing, as they like to rush you into answers.” Then, he smiled really big as he sat back and looked me over, especially my leg that was showing through the slit in the skirt.
>
“As for acting, well you look great. They will have a lot of photos and studies of you in jeans and shorts and casual wear. This look will not be what they expect. Do you remember the old Sharon Stone movie where she shows too much to the police and ruins their interrogation? I don’t want you to go that far, but if you remember, she took control without saying a lot. That might be a good attitude. A small smile, as if you have a secret that they don’t know. The fact that you know that you are really sexy, which you are today, and that you like being really sexy. That will throw them because they have an idea of a naive middle class girl they can scare easily. Anything to throw them off.”
I sat and listened to what he was saying, trying to let it all sink in. Six months ago, I would never even given it a thought that I might be able to pull something like this off, but I was a different person now. I was in love and had probably had my heart broken.
“Especially with Tim. They will use him with you, or he will use himself with you. They will try to see if the attachment is still there so that they can hook you with him. It is okay to excite him, but don’t, I repeat, don’t get excited by him. If they see that, your goose will be cooked.”
We pulled up in front of a plain tall building. The driver let us out and we walked across the large plaza into the vestibule. There were two armed guards behind a desk. On one side was a bank of turnstiles that people were going through. There were metal detectors with more armed guards as people waited in line to be cleared through the turnstiles. The elevators were beyond this set up.
JB walked over to the desk.
“Good afternoon. Michelle Tompson and her counsel are here to see Tim Myers and his supervisor.” JB handed over a plain business card.
The guard looked at him for a moment. “Do you know what department, sir?”
JB smiled, “Not sure, something to do with Black Ops or very secret nasty stuff. You know, the kind of stuff they hide in the basement.”