Tea Leafing: A Novel

by Weezie Macdonald

  Her powerful computer was erasing the mind of the smaller drive Mary Jane had introduced it to. Once accomplished, it would begin teaching the smaller drive new information, which it would need to complete its task. The two hummed happily together as if singing a familiar song — a nice backup for her louder, Thievery Corporation. She felt it was an appropriate selection for the task at hand.

  * * * *

  Birdie parked in the guest lot of an apartment complex adjacent to the Pink Pussycat. Locking her car and shuffling the keys into her purse, she headed off along the side street that led to Piedmont Road. She watched for sidewalks along the way, making mental notes about which side of the street had deeper cracks and blocks without paved walkways. She turned right on Piedmont and continued her walk along the main road for three quarters of a mile until she reached the self-storage facility on the far side of the street. Jogging across the four lanes of light traffic, she ducked into the shaded office.

  Emerging twenty minutes later and two hundred fifty dollars lighter, she tucked the small Masterlock key into her coin purse. Turning left out of the parking lot and heading east for another couple of blocks. Her promenade continued until she reached Denny’s.

  Sliding into their regular booth, she ordered a lemonade and sandwich from an unfamiliar waitress. She rummaged through her purse, scooting it closer to the edge of the bench and finally onto the floor.

  “Bollocks!” Birdie feigned frustration as she wedged her torso under the table in an effort to retrieve her bag and its scattered contents. She picked her phone up first, flipped it open and snapped a photo of the small, round transmitter, attached to the underside of the table.

  CHAPTER 47

  Sam nudged Birdie and nodded toward the main entrance where Fedya and his entourage had just appeared. Glancing back, Birdie gave a single nod and turned her attention back to the main stage where Ursula was in the middle of her second show of the evening. Birdie clutched a twenty in her hand and waved it over her head in time with the music.

  Sam was staring at the door when Birdie’s feet whistled by, cutting through the air inches from her face. Ursula pulled Birdie on stage and was directing her into a chair with her back to the pole.

  “Almost hit me.” Sam mumbled under her breath, absentmindedly checking her hair with her fingers.

  Pulling a necktie from a businessman near the stage, Ursula tied Birdie’s hands behind her back and proceeded to climb onto her shoulders, gripping the pole with both hands. With her legs on Birdie’s shoulders, face-forward, she began rocking back and forth.

  “A little X-Rated see-saw!” The DJ boomed commentary like an announcer at a ballgame.

  Ursula climbed the pole with her arms, lifting herself from her sitting position and flipped her body vertically, heading back down the pole in a slow crawl until she was face to face Birdie.

  “What da FUCK does she think she’s doin’?” Gio huffed up next to Sam, his hot breath blowing against the side of her face as he spat obscenities.

  “Gross.” Sam couldn’t suppress her thoughts as she shifted away from him.

  “What?” Gio glared.

  “I said gross,” Sam met his eyes. “Doesn’t she know where those bills have been? If I’ve told her once, I’ve told her a thousand times not to put money in her mouth.”

  Gio stared at her for a few beats, “Fuckin’ funny, Sam. I’ve told her she’s not allowed to touch the features and what does she do? I’ll wring her fuckin’ neck! Tell her she needs to pay me a $100 fine before she goes back on the floor.”

  “Um Gio, I don’t think that’s really fair. Ursula pulled her up there. It’s not like she stormed the stage or anything.”

  “Cut the shit Sam. You and I both know Birdie has a way of finding trouble and she doesn’t do anything to avoid it. What would the cops say if they was to walk in here?”

  Sam gave Gio a ponderous look and thought, Nothing after you slipped them that little envelope they collect twice a month. She bit her lip and raised her eyebrows.

  “You know I’m right, that’s why you can’t even argue with me.” Gio said, looking smug.

  It was almost too much for Sam to keep quiet, but she knew mouthing off would jeopardize the plans for Saturday night and she wasn’t about to do that. Pressing her nails into her palms to try and distract herself, she offered up a meek smile and said, “I’ll tell her when she gets down.”

  “Glad you came to your fuckin’ senses. I gotta go take care of Fedya.” He rose and tapped his key ring on the stage, but neither girl heard the warning.

  Gio turned, “You look nice. Hope you get a high roller tonight.”

  Sam managed a thin smile.

  Standing at the top of the steps leading to the main floor, Fedya waited for Gio to lead him to the Skybox. Activity danced around him as he stood unfettered and ice cold. Mary Jane eyed him from the bar, thinking his dark eyes reminded her of the Discovery channel footage during Shark Week. The empty gaze of an apex predator. A shiver crept up her back as she slipped her hand into her apron pocket, touching the cool steel of the portable hard drive. Watching Fedya, she couldn’t help but let her mind drift to thoughts of what would happen if their little plan failed. She knew Fedya’s reputation was that of a ruthless businessman, but how ruthless was he? It was obvious that giving the order to kill wasn’t something he lost sleep over, and that was just for possessing too much insider knowledge. What on earth would his revenge be for theft? She ran her hands around her slender wrists thinking about the punishment she’d heard many Middle Eastern countries practiced severing the offending appendage.

  “Mary Jane!” Grace’s voice yanked her from her daydream, or nightmare as it were. “Can you do this?”

  Mary Jane nodded and looked into her ice bin as she leaned across the granite-topped bar, “Yeah. I won’t lie though, I’m freaked.”

  Grace reached across the bar and squeezed Mary Jane’s arm, “You’ll be fine babe. We’re all right here with you. You know the signal if you need help.”

  Mary Jane was numb with fear and for a moment she’d completely forgotten the distress call they’d agreed to in case of emergency. Her hand slid back into the pocket of her apron and touched the hard shell of the disposable cell phone they affectionately called “the Pablo Escobar,” since throw away phones were a favorite of drug dealers and other deviants.

  “Right, 911 to Sam’s phone. Who’s gonna be in the dressing room to monitor the call?”

  “Don’t know yet. The plan is for Sam and I to be there but it depends on who is where when it goes down.”

  “Okay, just please make sure someone is there. If I get caught, they can have me out that back door in no time, and if that happens . . .” Mary Jane blanched, “Well, you know.”

  Grace looked as scared as Mary Jane but was trying to put on a good front. “I know. It’s gonna be fine. I hate that you have the hardest job until Saturday when we’ll all be on the hot seat. Try and think about Lena. Stay as clear and focused as you can and think about the ‘fuck you’ we’re about to deliver to these pigs.”

  Mary Jane cracked a smile at Grace’s French, “Thinking about Lena is what’s got me pissing myself. I don’t want to end up dead in some ditch.” She exhaled hard, “Sorry. I can do this. I’ve just got butterflies, that’s all.”

  Grace smiled and gave her arm another squeeze “I’ll be back in a bit to check on you. Send a waitress a few minutes before you take your break.”

  Birdie trudged upstairs toward the Skybox to pay Gio her undeserved fine. Counting her steps she practiced the yoga breathing she’d learned on a meditation CD. It was supposed to help her control her temper, but whenever she put the CD on the only thing she accomplished was falling asleep before the instructor revealed the keys to blissful, calm living. Can’t fight with the wanker. Can’t fight with the wanker. Can’t fight with the wanker. That was the mantra she repeated in her mind, psyching herself into what she hoped would be a peaceable interaction with Gio. Stoppi
ng at the corner of the balcony, halfway between the staircase and the Skybox, she perched on the edge of an armchair and began to untangle bills from the twisted garter at her ankle. “Don’t worry, mummy will be seeing you again soon.” she whispered to the crumpled paper.

  From her bent position Birdie wasn’t visible from the corner of the balcony. Behind her was a corner that was popular for employee breaks since it was partially hidden from the main floor and few customers wandered back there.

  “I don’t know what’s goin’ on but it must be somethin’ big.” Birdie turned her head to better hear the first baritone voice.

  “No shit. Have you ever known Fedya to order everyone out while he talks to Gio?” came the response.

  “Fuckin’ weird. Wish I could be a fly on the wall.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “You’re right. Probably don’t want to be alone with those two.”

  “You think it’s about Nikki?”

  “Yeah, I was wondering about that. I’d hate to be ‘G’ when Fedya gets wind of that.”

  “How stupid do you have to be to fuck the bosses girlfriend right under his nose?”

  Walkie-talkie static squawked, interrupting the conversation.

  “Let’s go.”

  Birdie continued fiddling with her money until the two passed, oblivious to her presence. Waiting a few beats, she pushed herself out of the chair and along the balcony leading to the Skybox. The thugs, at their usual posts outside the sliding doors of the room, stared straight ahead with no apparent brain activity.

  Nikki emerged through the doorway leading to the back staircase. She looked wired as she pranced and sniffled her way to the nearest bodyguard. Shaking his head, the muscle-bound Russian stood his ground. Birdie hung back a few steps, interested to see the ensuing drama unfold. Nikki planted her hands on her hips and shifted all her weight to the left in a semi-battle stance. Fixing the soldier with what she probably considered a stern look she began, “Fedya called me up here and he’s gonna be pissed if he knows you made me wait!”

  No response.

  Itching her nose irritably, Nikki’s voice was going up in pitch, “Okay, look here Red, I know you’re doing what you think you’re supposed to but you’re not. Poke your thick head in the door and tell him I’m out here.”

  Silence.

  “Look at me . . . LOOK AT ME!” She tried to shout over the pulse of music.

  The guards continued to ignore her rant, clearly not the first time they’d seen a Nikki-fit.

  She rubbed her nose violently as she tried to press through the two. They didn’t budge but Nikki managed to give herself a nosebleed. This wasn’t uncommon since most of her nasal mucosa had long since taken a powder. So to speak.

  Jumping back, she began to shriek, “Look what you DID! OH MY GOD! YOU HIT ME!”

  She cupped her hand under her face to catch the flow of blood streaming from her nose. Realizing the guards weren’t going to give in and help she stomped off toward the dressing room mumbling about how she’s been attacked.

  The guards glanced at one another and the first came close to what Birdie thought could pass for a smile, “Humph. Who’s Red now?” The other guard chuckled.

  Realizing she’d reached an impasse, Birdie decided to duck into the Empty VIP room next to the Skybox and hang out until Gio emerged. She settled herself on the couch and wondered how long she’d have to wait. Moments later she heard raised voices coming through the wall from Fedya’s room next door.

  CHAPTER 48

  Birdie walked quickly along the balcony but ran once she was in the privacy of the stairwell and back hallways leading to an entrance by Mary Jane’s bar. She stood at the end of the counter a few paces from the waitress station, tapping her heel rapidly, trying to shake off the adrenaline rush. Mary Jane walked up and started swabbing down the bar with a rag.

  “Now. Go now, Mary Jane! Somethin’s happening between Gio and the boss man. I’ll find the other two and we’ll keep everyone distracted. They turned Nikki away for Chrissake, you gotta get in the office. ‘Ave you got all the bits?”

  “Yup. Okay, here goes. Go find them and please please make sure someone is by Sam’s cell.”

  She slid the rag off the bar and headed to the other end to notify Bunny she was going on break. Birdie turned and plowed through the crowd, stopping waitresses to try and locate Sam and Grace. No one had seen either girl. Birdie broke into a sweat. Several minutes passed since she’d left the bar and the club was at maximum capacity, making her progress slow. Every twenty steps or so she’d glance at the balcony in front of the Skybox to make sure Gio wasn’t on his way to the office.

  “Birdie!” A man’s voice yelled from behind her.

  She turned as a white haired, goateed man in a string tie caught her in a bear hug.

  Birdie squirmed as the man squeezed, “I’m so glad you’re still here little lady! Look boys, it’s my favorite bird, next to the ones that made me rich, that is!” His southern drawl boomed into a boisterous laugh as he smiled. Revealing teeth yellowed from decades of cigar smoking.

  “Colonel Sanders?” Birdie squinched her eyes at the man.

  “That my girl! Same sense of humor. You are ADORABLE! Come on boys, let’s get this little lady into a VIP room and get away from these crazies.” He looked down his barrel chest at Birdie.

  Normally she’d be thrilled to see the return customer. Although his name escaped her she remembered he’d dropped a load of money on her during last year’s Chicken Pluckers and despite copious hugs, he wasn’t handsy. The name thing was easily fixable once she found Sam and Grace. As the girls introduced themselves she’d get his name as if she’d never forgotten it. She’d of course have to apologize for not making introductions herself, but after a few beers guys never noticed the social slight of hand.

  Having gotten her bearings, Birdie hugged his neck and told him she couldn’t believe it was really him, she ran through the de rigueur of pleasantries at a breakneck speed.

  “Look, Colonel, I’m off to find me mates and we’ll meet you in a room.” She snatched the sleeve of a nearby bouncer as she caught a glimpse of Mary Jane making her way along the balcony on the opposite side of the office from the Skybox.

  Focus. Focus. Focus. Birdie chanted in her head.

  “Colonel Sanders needs a VIP room for these boys. How many blokes with you this time, gov’na?”

  “Colonel Sanders, Hah. I can’t get enough of this little one!” the man roared and started squeezing Birdie again.

  “Right, right, I love you too, Colonel, but let’s get you into a room before we’re trampled to death!” Birdie gestured to the growing crowd.

  Grinning at her he said “Seven of us tonight daalin’, I’m just so glad you’re still here!”

  “Got no job skills love, where else would I be?” Birdie gave him a cheeky grin and managed not to look back up at the balcony.

  Patting the bouncer on his tree trunk sized bicep she said, “Take good care of me man here so he’ll give you a good room. I’m off to find girls and I’ll be up shortly.” She gave the Colonel a pinch on his cheek before turning back to the bouncer.

  “Sixteen.” was all the bouncer said before Bird was off.

  Pushing through tweed, wool, and Lycra, she forged a path to the dressing room. A quick look at the balcony told her Mary Jane was either in or had been stopped because it was bare.

  “Fack!” Birdie spat as she finally reached the nearly vacant dressing room.

  Breast pump girl was in her corner doing her usual unloading of the goods, buried this time in a Stephen King classic.

  Sam and Grace were sitting at their usual spot by the mirror in front of their lockers.

  “Been all ovah this beast lookin’ for you twats! ‘Ave you been here all the time?”

  “Ten minutes or so.”

  Sam gestured wildly for Birdie to sit, ever mindful that Lucille was the wall with ears. Birdie slid onto the vinyl chair, so flustered s
he didn’t bother putting a towel down first. Her legs caught on the plastic, making a fart noise.

  “If you stink up my dressing room I’ll kill you.” Lucille sang from the far side of the mirror that divided the room.

  “Sorry, just me legs on this nasty vinyl, Lucille.” Birdie tried to sound casual.

  “MmmHmm.” Lucille replied.

  Sam half whispered, half mouthed, “What’s up?”

  “Grab the phone!” Birdie panted quietly “She’s bloody doin’ it now! Roight now!”

  Wide eyed, Sam spun in her seat and started working the combination on her locker. Grace pulled Birdie’s head closer “Now? What happened to letting us know?”

  “Gio’s up in the box with Fedya and they’re arguing. Turned Nikki away even. I was up to pay me fine for groping the feature and couldn’t get in. When I realized they would be a bit — hopefully that is — I let Mary Jane know and she took the window.”

  “Shit!” Sam muttered, struggling with the combination. “I can’t get this thing to work!”

  “Try your locker instead of mine.” Grace suggested.

  Sam rolled her eyes and shook her head as she moved one locker over to her own and spun the numbered wheel.

  “We need to get upstairs to stall him in case he comes out.” Grace whispered just loud enough for both girls to hear.

  Sam waved her hand in a “go” gesture without looking away from the dial.

  Birdie and Grace’s shoes thudded against the cheap, low-pile carpet as they stood. “So, that bloke from last year is waiting in Sixteen for us. When you’re done primping you’ll join us, roight?” Birdie didn’t bother lowering her voice.

  “Gimme a few minutes and I’ll be right up.” Sam replied, winking at the two.