Mimicry of Banshees

by G. K. Parks

  “It’s just nice to have cash sometimes. It impresses the ladies.” Sometimes, I wondered if all rich boys read the same damn guidebook to life and love.

  “All right.” I was considering something which I had a feeling I might regret. “If your mom gets too busy and you’re home alone, contemplating getting into trouble, give me a call. There might be an opening for a part-time gig. The money will be shit, but it would give you something to do for a couple hours a day, maybe two or three times a week. Nothing difficult, but it’s bound to be better than getting assaulted in a park.” Worst case, I could hire Roger to throw out my junk mail and save me a drive to the office. It’d probably be cheaper than my habit of killing time by online shopping.

  “I’ll keep it in mind, but I gotta go. Mom wants me home for dinner.”

  After he left, I ordered a pair of black pumps I didn’t need and called it a night. I locked my office and drove home. The Skolnick case was solved. The Smidel case was settled, and I was already bored.

  * * *

  Thursday afternoon, I was sitting behind my desk, achieving my goal of checking in twice for the week. All this time in my office reminded me why I didn’t check in more often; there was nothing to do. Why was work an all or nothing thing? I was either busy doing three things at once or nothing at all. There must be some kind of compromise in order to reach a happy medium. I just needed to figure out what the trick was.

  As I was dusting and considering upgrading my furniture, my office phone rang. “Parker Security Firm,” I answered. I still didn’t know what to call my business.

  “Ms. Parker, please hold for Mr. Guillot,” a woman’s voice replied. I didn’t know why Luc would be calling. It must be in reference to a personal matter, or else Martin would have called himself. Luckily, before I could consider something horrible having happened to him, which at this point seemed extremely likely, Luc’s voice sounded over the line.

  “Mademoiselle Parker,” Guillot was cordial as always, “Martin Technologies is aware that your security contract is up for renewal in less than two months, and we would like to have a meeting before time has lapsed.” Maybe Guillot was scheduling a conference to officially fire me. It was okay. I shouldn’t be sleeping with the boss, too many ethical qualms. “Are you free next Thursday at two?”

  “Let me check my schedule.” I couldn’t resist. I had nothing on the books for the foreseeable future, but it was fun to pretend I was a sought after commodity. “Sounds good.”

  “Okay, I will have an assistant e-mail you the details. Have a nice day.”

  “You too.”

  Apparently not only did I tend to work more than one job at a time, but I also concluded more than one job at a time. Maybe I shouldn’t be considering buying new furniture or giving Roger a job as my assistant since I might be working out of a cardboard box by next month. Let’s just take one day at a time, I thought as I drove home.

  * * *

  I was in workout gear, pounding out the miles on the treadmill and trying to clear my head from the last few weeks. I wanted the Skolnick case out of my mind. It was completed, and any remaining issues could be dealt with by the courts and Skolnick’s estate attorneys. Maybe her parents would file civil suits against Spencer, Tate, and the rest of the guilty lot. It was no longer my problem. My problem was finding a new job. I slowed the speed on the treadmill until it stopped, and then I stepped off.

  Just as I got out of the shower, the phone rang. Wrapping the towel around me, I went to the kitchen and managed to grab the receiver seconds before the answering machine kicked on. “Hello?” I waited to see if the caller hung up.

  “Alex?” Mark asked.

  “The one and only.” I took the cordless into the bathroom, so I could dry off and conquer the feat of dressing with one hand. “What’s going on?”

  “I got your message. It was incredibly pleasant and congenial, so obviously, I was afraid you were being held for ransom or aliens abducted you.”

  “Unfortunately, no.” I zipped my jeans and switched hands as I put on my shirt. “Is that the only reason you called?”

  “No. I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done. I heard some chatter confirming the model’s murder was resolved.”

  “Thanks. The police department has some good detectives. They could have handled it on their own. Well, mostly on their own.”

  “Uh-huh.” He didn’t sound convinced. “Remember, the OIO helped run down the internet information and IP address, and I believe you made reference to the promise of returning the favor.”

  “And you won’t let me forget it.” I went back to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. “If you plan to cash in, I’d prefer it be at a later date. It hasn’t even been a week since the Skolnick case concluded. I have an upcoming meeting at MT, and,” I sighed, “it’s only been a few weeks since I finished that last consulting gig for Kendall. Can you give me a few more days before I start on another one?”

  Without seeing him, I could still picture the knowing look on Mark’s face. “I knew you’d come back to work here. At the bar, you went on and on about how you were done, and now look at you. Do you want to make it permanent this time? Or are you still too busy entertaining fanciful ideas that you’re a cop or completely private sector now?”

  “I am private sector, and with my stellar record, my consulting rate has just gone up.” He chuckled. “By the way, I’m not willing to travel for work. If it’s something here, I’ll consider it.” I was taking Martin into account when making my work decisions, even though this violated my rule about the job coming first, but he didn’t have to know about it.

  “Okay. Just a heads up, you’ll probably get a call sometime next week. We have an open case that hasn’t gone anywhere. If it doesn’t move in the next few days, Kendall is demanding we do something different.”

  “I’m something different?”

  “You’re definitely something different. Talk to you soon.”

  My job hunt wasn’t lasting as long as I thought. Even though being back at the OIO was familiar, like returning home, it took a painful toll every time I walked into the building and remembered the agents that had been lost. If I had to consult again, maybe I could do it remotely. Jeez, I needed to be more careful making wishes.

  * * *

  As Mark predicted, Wednesday afternoon Kendall asked if I would take a meeting. Everyone wanted a meeting with the great and powerful Alexis Parker. Maybe the title on my business card should be changed to reflect my newly gained popularity. Thankfully, Kendall agreed to wait until Friday since I had the mysterious appointment at Martin Technologies scheduled for Thursday.

  Even though I spent last weekend with Martin, he didn’t mention anything about the meeting with Guillot, but he was preoccupied with his impending business trip. He was going out of town for the next two weeks, first stopping in Istanbul and then Prague. He was leaving Saturday morning. Maybe this was why he was so oblivious. I accused his trip of being a delay tactic to disprove my three week theory, but he vehemently denied my accusations. By Sunday evening, I told him about my upcoming meeting at the OIO, even though it wasn’t a certainty at that point. Now it was, and it’d be interesting to see how we fared in the face of both of our careers. He insisted we’d be fine, and for once, I was inclined to believe him.

  Thirty-seven

  Thursday afternoon, I dressed in a tailored skirt and jacket, prepared to be fired. Fired probably wasn’t the proper terminology. My contract would be allowed to expire, or my contract would not be renewed. I was ready for it. I would be gracious and thank the Board for the opportunity the MT corporation had provided over the last year, and I would complete my remaining seven weeks with dignity. I even went so far as to check for an appropriate replacement they could hire.

  I was ushered into a conference room on the fifteenth floor and asked to take a seat at the end of the table. Four of the board members, whom I met previously, flanked me at the conference table. They gave slight nod
s and polite smiles while we waited awkwardly for Mr. Guillot to arrive.

  “Ms. Parker,” he sounded less French today, probably trying to seem more professional, “thank you for coming. I’m not sure if you are aware of our current proposal.” He looked questioningly at me. “Perhaps Mr. Martin has discussed this with you.” I shook my head, puzzled, so he continued. “As you are aware, there are branches of Martin Technologies all over the world. There are five in this country alone. The Board has voted to improve our staff efficiency by consolidating our security personnel.”

  “Basically, we want to overhaul the entire system,” Charles Roman, one of the board members, offered. “All of MT’s security personnel need to have similar training and backgrounds. The emergency protocols must be updated and made uniform throughout the corporation, and this way, there will be a pool of candidates available in case we need to temporarily relocate someone whenever there is an extended absence.” I thought about Jeffrey Myers and the search for his replacement.

  “We were hoping you would consider heading the committee on the consolidation. We’re still months away from enacting this plan, but the Board has approved it. There are still some business documents and contracts from legal to be drawn up, but we’re all confident it’ll pass,” Guillot concluded the pitch.

  “Mr. Guillot,” I interrupted, “I’m not familiar with corporate practices. I have no idea how any of this even works. I’m honored, but I’m not the right person for the job.”

  “Don’t be so humble,” Roman teased. “You kick ass and take names. What more could we possibly want?”

  “I believe what Mr. Roman is trying to say,” Guillot interjected, probably not understanding Roman’s sense of humor, “is you have the know-how to be incredibly beneficial in coordinating the overhaul. The Board and I will deal with the corporate implications. We just need someone capable of finding and training individuals and devising emergency protocols and procedures. Your expertise has streamlined the security in the Paris office and here.” I was still completely out of my league and was going to decline the position, but Guillot must have predicted my response because he added, “You have time to decide. Let us know before your contract expires so we can draw up the proper paperwork.”

  How could a total restructuring of MT’s global security wait almost two months for my decision? But I didn’t question it. Instead, I thanked everyone for their generous offer and headed out the door.

  As I climbed into my car, Martin called. “Come over tonight,” he requested. “I’m leaving Saturday morning, and I don’t know what I’m doing tomorrow. But it’d be nice to see you before I leave.”

  “Yeah, okay.” I blew out a breath. Apparently, my complaint about his previous clinginess had fallen on deaf ears, but we needed to have a chat. “I just came from a meeting at your company, and we have a few things to discuss.”

  “Shall I pick up champagne on the way home?” The bastard knew the entire time and didn’t say a word. Unbelievable.

  “There’s no reason for champagne since you’ve lost your damn mind.”

  “We’ll see.” I heard the smirk. “See you at seven?” Sighing, I agreed and drove home.

  Would it seem forward to bring my interview clothes to Martin’s since I didn’t expect to make it home tonight? Then again, I could leave early in the morning and stop at home before going to the OIO if tonight turned into tomorrow morning. But either way, I still wasn’t a morning person. It was better to be safe than sorry, so I packed a professional looking outfit and laid it flat in my trunk. It never hurt to be prepared. The boy scouts always were.

  Arriving at Martin’s, I ignored the uncomfortable twinge that always accompanied me whenever I stepped foot inside his place. He picked up French food to go with the last remaining bottle of French wine he had brought home from his trip to Paris. Trying to appear more refined and patient than I was, I waited until after dinner before broaching the subject of work.

  “First, I shouldn’t be working for your company anymore. Second, I don’t know who came up with the cockamamie idea to put me in charge of some kind of security firm creation merger thing, but they need to have their head examined. The fact that I don’t even know what the proper terminology to use here is indicative of my lack of knowledge in this particular area.”

  He laughed. “Just so you know, I’ve deferred all things security related to Guillot since I know how much you loathe mixing personal with professional.” He winked. “Heaven forbid if someone found out we were dating. What would they think?” His voice dropped an octave. “Hell, I’d probably get a few dozen death threats from jealous employees, and half of the Board would conspire to have me killed.” I glared, but he chuckled. It was still way too soon for that to be funny. Honestly, I didn’t think it’d ever be funny. “And to address your second point, the Board doesn’t actually expect you to do any, what was it, security creation mergers?” He laughed again at my absurdity.

  “So what the hell was the entire presentation about?” I didn’t take being made fun of very well.

  “It was mostly a fancy way of asking if you wouldn’t mind doing more security guard applicant reviews, finding qualified people to train the security personnel, and establishing proper protocols for all of MT’s branches.” At least his explanation made more sense than Guillot’s.

  “And the slideshow was for?”

  “Entertainment purposes only.” He snorted. “It’s business. We like our charts, graphs, tables, and bullet points. We really love our bullet points.”

  “I do too, but mine involve actual bullets.”

  “From my understanding, we’re still months away from beginning the first phase, but Guillot thought you needed some time to think about it. For some reason, he’s under the impression you don’t particularly care for corporate work.”

  “What do you think?” I asked, helping him clear the table.

  “I don’t think you like corporate work either.” He shrugged. “But I’m not giving you an opinion. We’re keeping business separate, remember?”

  I set the plates in the sink and put my palms against his chest, balancing on my tiptoes and brushing my lips against his. “Wow, something I said actually sunk in,” I teased, “but there are things I can do to force you to answer the question.”

  “Remember, my safe word is grenadine.” His eyes crinkled playfully. “Plus, you said you didn’t have any kinky habits.”

  “I didn’t realize you considered FBI interrogation techniques kinky.”

  * * *

  The next morning, I was glad my business attire was in the trunk of my car. Martin let me oversleep again, and I was in a mad rush to get ready. He watched, amused, as I grabbed my phone and car keys and ran down the steps.

  I arrived at the OIO barely on time and went straight to Director Kendall’s office. Why was I so concerned about being on time and making a good impression? The last time I was here, I hated every second and made it painfully obvious to everyone. Maybe I changed in the last few weeks, or I was desperate for a paying gig. More than likely, the sick, twisted part of my psyche needed another morbid puzzle to unravel.

  “Ms. Parker,” Kendall greeted, “I thought you were standing me up.”

  “No, sir,” I responded automatically, hating how easily the auto-pilot kicked in. “Thanks for the use of Bureau resources to assist the police department in their homicide investigation.”

  “Glad to be of service, particularly since you owe us a favor.” I nodded slightly. “Great.” He produced a stack of consulting paperwork that I read and signed. “C’mon, Parker, it’s been a year. Aren’t you ready to come home?” He opened his top drawer and pulled out my old credentials. “The badge looked good on you.”

  “I can’t. The woman on that ID isn’t me. Not anymore.”

  “If you ever change your mind,” he shoved the gold emblem back inside his desk, “I’m sure we can find a place for you.” I shook my head, considering running for the exit and never looki
ng back. That’s what I tried to do many times, and each time, I failed. “Agent Becker will give you a formal briefing in the conference room.”

  The briefing took a few hours, and despite my reluctance to be back at the OIO, I was looking forward to having something new to occupy my time. They even guaranteed my consulting work would all be local, and most of it could be done remotely. There was a lot of information already compiled, so I’d be evaluating collected evidence, watching interviews, and sifting through the investigator’s notes. It sounded simple enough, even though the actual dynamics of the case were not. It would conclude on its own time, but for once, my work at the OIO wouldn’t interfere with my ability to work other cases or maintain a personal life.

  Stopping by Mark’s office on my way out, I was relieved we were back to normal, or at least, the way we had been before my stubbornness interfered with our friendship. We discussed the current case, the Skolnick case, and my new job offer at MT.

  I was about to leave when my phone rang. “You left your house keys at my place,” Martin said enthusiastically.

  “Shit. Are you serious?” Mark looked confused by my cursing, but I wasn’t ready to tell him about my relationship. It was still too new. “Hang on a second.” I covered the mouthpiece. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I promised Mark. “It’s your turn to buy the coffee, and remember the extra foam in my cappuccino.” He pantomimed writing himself a note as I walked out of his office and headed for the parking garage.

  “Are you still there?” Martin asked as I waited for the elevator to open again. The reception inside was too challenging to talk through.

  “Yes, sorry about that.”

  “I’ll bring them to your place and save you a trip. What time are you leaving?” He was up to something.