by Lynsay Sands
"Hmm. Yes." Gran was silent, her gaze moving over the houses along this select road; then she pulled a cell phone out of her bag. Jane eyed the purse anxiously, wishing she could look through it. What Maggie Spyrus might have in there was scary.
"Who are you calling?" Jane asked when her grandmother started to punch in a number.
"I'm calling in a favor." Maggie put the phone to her ear, then met Jane's gaze in the rearview mirror as she waited for someone to pick up on the other end. "You really should get moving, dear."
Jane pressed down on the gas pedal. When she returned to the gate she asked, "Where to now?"
She knew where she wanted to go: around the circle again. Jane was reluctant to leave Edie behind like this. But, abandoning her friend or not, it was risky to drive around again.
"Head for town," Gran instructed. "We'll have something to eat."
Jane passed through the gate when it opened and turned the van back toward the town they'd seen earlier.
As it happened, they didn't go all the way back. Gran--who hadn't been able to reach her friend, but had left a brief message with the particulars of their situation--spotted a little cafe called Perko's. Hanging up, she suggested they stop for breakfast.
Exhausted, and knowing she could do with the energy boost that food would offer, Jane pulled into the parking lot.
"What about Abel?" Gran asked as they parked. Turning off the engine, Jane glanced at the man and undid her seat belt. He was still sound asleep and likely to remain so for another half hour or so. Perhaps it would even be an hour if he'd inhaled most of the powder her gran had used.
"We'll leave him be for now," she decided. "He should sleep for a while yet, and if he wakes before we return..." She shrugged. "This van is soundproof, and he won't get out of these restraints."
"Yes," Gran agreed. "This will also give us time to decide what to do with him."
The comment sounded ominous to Jane, but she let it go and opened her door. She got Gran's wheelchair out and had the woman in it relatively quickly, despite Tinkle's repeated attempts to slip past out of the van. After being sure she had her phone and wallet, Jane locked the van and pushed Gran into the restaurant. Not that she really needed to push the wheelchair: As well as being full of gadgets and gizmos, the chair was self-propelled.
Once seated in one of the cafe's vinyl booths, with Gran's wheelchair pulled up to the end of the table, Jane took the time to look around. The cafe was decorated in teal and maroon, with country wallpaper and dried wreaths. The waitress who approached was young, all smiles, and had a perky ponytail that bobbed and swung as she talked. Her good cheer and energy made Jane feel about a hundred years old. But then she'd been up for almost twenty-four hours now, Jane reminded herself, refusing to tuck up the hairs that had come free from her own ponytail.
The waitress gave a cheerful greeting and might have mentioned specials or some such thing as she handed Jane and Maggie each a huge menu; Jane couldn't be sure. Now that she was out from behind the steering wheel, her brain had shut down. The waitress's words all sounded like a cheerful "blah blah blah," and Jane found her mind drifting and her eyes crossing. She stared at the lemon-yellow uniform the girl wore, relieved when she went away and left them to their menus.
"I'm starved," Gran said as she glanced over the selections available. Jane wasn't terribly surprised. A sandwich and a bunch of snack items were all they'd eaten since embarking on this journey. She was starved herself. And jumpy too, she realized when Gran's cell phone gave a sharp ring.
"That will be...my friend," Gran said.
As her relative answered the phone, Jane forced herself to relax. She listened as Gran said "yes" over and over. Maggie Spyrus had only left the bare bones of the situation in her message; Edie's name, her situation, the name of the company she worked for, and Sonora, the town they'd arrived in. Apparently, however, that was enough to generate a great deal of information.
"Really?" Gran said, her gaze moving to Jane as if to say, "You see?" But Jane didn't see. She didn't have a clue what was being said on the other end of the phone.
Losing interest in the one-sided conversation, she let her eyes drift around the restaurant again, this time paying more attention to the other diners. It took a minute or so for her weary mind to process what she was seeing as her glance drifted from person to person, but then she stiffened in her seat, her weariness forced aside by panic.
"What is it?" Gran asked, noting her alarm.
Leaning across the table Jane hissed, "This place is crawling with cops."
Maggie Spyrus relaxed at once. She glanced around at the different uniforms worn by those around them. There had to be at least three different types; federal, state, and Sonoran policemen made up three-quarters of the cafe's clientele. It was like a police convention.
"So? We haven't done anything wrong," Gran said with disinterest.
"I don't think Abel would agree with that. Knocking him out and restraining him are--" She sat up abruptly. "That isn't kidnapping, is it? Using those restraints and parking him there? No," she answered her own hisses with a frown. "He wanted to come to Sonora."
"Relax," Gran instructed, then paused to listen to her phone. A moment later she said, "Madge says the main offices for the state and county police are here in Sonora. It has three branches of law enforcement plus forest rangers. The town has very little crime."
"Tell Edie that," Jane muttered, but she did relax a bit. Abel was in the van. Restrained. It wasn't like he was going to jump out any minute screaming.
"Well!"
The word drew Jane from her thoughts to see Gran close her cell phone and set it on the table. She raised an eyebrow in question and waited for an explanation of the older woman's good cheer.
"Madge says that you're brilliant."
"Why is that?" Jane asked doubtfully.
"Because B.L.I.S.S., as well as the Feds and several other agencies, have been eyeballing Edie's employer Ensecksi Satellites, for some time. Now it seems you've managed to catch them at something illegal. You might even end up with an inside contact. It's enough to start a full-scale investigation."
"Hmm," Jane said. "Yes. It was brilliant of me to spill my stuff all over the bathroom floor and be too lazy to clean it up so that Edie would borrow a tampon tracker and be traceable when her evil boss kidnapped her."
Gran chuckled at her dry tone. "Darling, don't belittle yourself. You know the saying that some of the best inventions are accidents? Well, it's true of the spy business too. Some of the biggest take downs have started with an agent stumbling into something unexpectedly. Why, I remember the time I--"
"Gran."
"Yes, dear?"
"What's your friend going to do?"
"Hmm." She pursed her lips and eyed Jane speculatively as if trying to decide how much to say.
"Gran," Jane growled in a warning tone. The older woman sighed.
"Oh, very well. B.L.I.S.S. is buying the house next door to the one Edie is in, and we're--"
"Buying the house?" Jane interrupted. "I didn't notice a house for sale over there,"
"It isn't, dear."
"Well, then, how are they going to--"
"Please, Jane. This is B.L.I.S.S. They have their ways. In truth, they probably won't actually buy it. They'll bounce the family who lives there out and take it over for the duration of the operation, then let them back in when it's over. They'll just make it look like it was sold and--"
"Bounce them out?"
"Lower your voice, dear. You're drawing the attention of those hunky policemen over there. My...they do grow them handsome here, don't they?" Maggie wondered.
Jane rubbed her forehead and tried for some patience as her grandmother smiled and winked at one of the "hunks."
"Gran."
"Hmm?" The woman glanced at her distractedly.
"Are you saying that B.L.I.S.S. is now aware that Edie borrowed my trackers--highly secret B.L.I.S.S. paraphernalia that no one is supposed to k
now about? And that they know we tracked her all the way to California with her brother Abel, who is currently locked up in the van?" Jane asked with extreme calm. She very much feared she would be bounced down to the basement when she returned to work on Monday. If she returned to work on Monday.
"Of course not, dear," Gran said. Jane was just beginning to relax when she added, "I led Madge to believe that Edie had come to you with suspicions that something was going on at work, that you deliberately had her wear the tracker for her 'meeting,' and that Abel is with us because Edie had already made him aware of the situation and he was in on it from the first."
Jane groaned and lowered her head toward the table, stopping abruptly when a cup of coffee was suddenly set beneath it.
"Here you are, ladies! Have you decided on what you'd like for breakfast?"
Jane turned baleful eyes on the perky waitress and found herself nearly blinded again by the woman's yellow uniform. "That's quite some outfit," she commented.
"Isn't it?" The girl beamed as she glanced down at herself. "It's so new and bright. We use to wear maroon chinos, but the boss thought these were more cheerful."
"Yes. They are that," Jane agreed politely, then cleared her throat and glanced down at the menu she'd opened but not really looked at. Her eyes were exhausted and watery and didn't want to focus. She closed the menu. "I'll have the special."
"Over easy or sunny-side up?"
"Excuse me?" Jane stared at her blankly.
"Your eggs. In the special?" the girl explained.
"Over easy or sunny-side up?"
"Oh. Over easy."
"The same for me," Gran announced, handing over her menu. "Thank you."
The girl left them alone again, and Jane glanced around toward an older couple entering the restaurant. The man was wearing a rather loud Hawaiian top in purples and oranges that clashed horribly, both with each other and with the jaundiced yellow sundress his wife wore.
"Dear Lord, what is it with the women in this town and the color yellow?" Jane asked with despair as she turned her beleaguered eyes away.
"Hmmm?" Gran glanced at her in question. "Well, look around," Jane suggested, peering over the customers in the restaurant. The number of police here wasn't the only oddity. Aside from the waitresses, there were four female customers, and every one of them was wearing a yellow dress. Different shades, different styles, but all yellow dresses. And every male not in a police uniform appeared to be wearing a Hawaiian shirt.
"That could be it..." Gran admitted with a thoughtful frown.
"What?" Jane asked.
"Well, there's some suspicion at B.L.I.S.S. that Ensecksi Satellites is using microwaves, along with some new unknown technology, for mind control. They'd have to test it somehow."
"And you think they're testing it by making everyone wear yellow dresses and loud Hawaiian shirts?" Jane asked doubtfully.
"Why not? It would be a perfectly harmless test and wouldn't raise any suspicion in the authorities. That woman at the gate was wearing yellow too," Maggie added, then beamed at her granddaughter. "It was clever of you to notice, dear. Especially since you aren't into fashion yourself."
"Hmm." Jane ignored the insult and peered at the yellow uniforms and dresses with new eyes. "Maybe this is the 'something strange' Edie stumbled on to at work. Maybe she overheard or read something about this."
"That could very well be."
"But, why would they drag her all the way down here over that?"
"Perhaps they want to know how much she knows and just who she's told about it."
"Maybe," Jane agreed, then fell silent as their waitress returned with two plates of eggs and bacon. Jane's stomach growled the moment the scent hit her nose. Letting go of the conversation, she began to eat.
But moments later she pushed her plate away. "So, they're going to buy the house next door to the place where Edie is," she asked. She was completely stuffed. Which wasn't a bad feeling except that now that she'd eaten, rather than being lifted her exhaustion seemed to be settling about her more firmly. Too many carbs, Jane thought, reaching for coffee to try to shake off her lassitude. "Then what?"
"Then we're to move in and stake it out."
"What?" Jane woke up a bit at that announcement. "But we're--"
"The only agents in the vicinity at the moment," Gran finished with satisfaction. "They want to get on this right away, and most of the top agents are on other assignments."
"Gran, I'm not an agent. Neither is Abel."
"But 1 was."
" 'Was' being the important word there."
Maggie Spyrus waved the comment away. "I know the business. I can teach you. You'll do fine."
"Gran, Edie's life is at stake. I can't--"
"Do you think you'll be able to convince Abel just to leave it to some unknown and possibly sloppy second string agent and go home?" her relative asked pointedly. When Jane remained silent, Gran continued, "And what do you think he'll do?"
"There isn't much he can do. He doesn't know which house she's in."
"But he does know which community, and he knows the Ensecksi name. He'd harass the police and insist they search and ask questions. He'll probably do so himself as well, and stir up all sorts of trouble. The Ensecksis will know at once that there is a problem. They'll get rid of any damning evidence and take down shop for awhile."
"I suppose Edie would be some of the damning evidence?"
"I would guess so."
"Maybe we could convince him to--"
"Jane, darling. You saw him back at the gate. He won't be reasonable when it comes to Edie. My goodness, you're just a friend, yet I know you were considering charging out of the van after that hearse when it pulled into that garage. And you're one of the most cautious members of our family. No. He won't let this go and return home. But if he's informed as to what's going on and allowed to participate, he may be controllable."
"Controllable," Jane echoed. Abel didn't really seem the controllable type to her.
"Come. You're exhausted. We'll go shopping, then rent a room and get some sleep."
"Shopping?" Jane asked with disbelief.
"Yes. Shopping. I've been wearing this dress for twenty-four hours now and am quite ready for a change. Besides, it'll kill time while we wait to hear back from...Madge."
Groaning, Jane pulled money out of her day planner/wallet to cover their bill and a tip, then wheeled Gran out of the restaurant.
Exhausted and distracted, she stopped the wheelchair by the side door of the van and opened it. The enraged roar that immediately issued from inside made her promptly slam it shut again.
Chapter Seven
Jane glanced around the empty parking lot, relieved to see that no one else had been privy to Abel's rage.
"Good Tinkle. Good doggie. Yes, you're a clever girl, aren't you?"
Jane glanced down at the Yorkie yipping and hopping around Gran's wheelchair. The beast had apparently slid out of the van in the few short seconds the door had been open. Gran was acting as if it were a major achievement.
"Abel seems upset," Jane pointed out, just in case her gran had missed the fact.
"Yes. It would appear so," Maggie Spyrus agreed. She chuckled. "He has a fine set of lungs, doesn't he?"
"This isn't funny, Gran," Jane said. Her stern tones merely brought forth a louder laugh from the older woman.
"Of course it is, Janie, dear. Where's your sense of humor?"
Jane rolled her eyes and turned to peer into the van. Of course, with its blacked-out windows she could no more see in than anyone else could. But she could imagine Abel straining and struggling beneath the restraints as he bellowed and roared. Her gaze returned to her grandmother. "Now what?"
Maggie Spyrus considered. "I think you should hop back in and knock him out again, dear."
"Knock him out?" Jane's eyes widened incredulously.
"Yes, dear," her gran acknowledged, as if it were the most reasonable suggestion in the world.
; Jane supposed it was reasonable to Maggie Spyrus, field operative extraordinaire. Which just proved to Jane that she'd made the right career decision by going into the technical side of the espionage business. She would never manage to be blase about knocking someone unconscious.
"I'll be right back." Leaving her grandmother and Tinkle, she walked around the van. She peered quickly about to be sure there was still no one about, then opened the driver-side door. As before, shouting immediately issued from within, but this time Jane was prepared. She jumped into the driver's seat, pulled the door closed, and waited for Abel's bellowing to cease. Waited. And waited.
Her presence didn't make him stop, but his yelling did become more intelligible and Jane winced at some of the words pouring forth. He seemed pretty annoyed. Understandably, she supposed.
Jane waited another moment for his rage to wind down, but when it showed no signs she decided she'd best intervene. After all, Gran and Tinkle couldn't wait in the parking lot forever. Jane considered yelling to get Abel's attention, but she doubted he'd hear her over his own bellows. She considered knocking him out again after all, but the only thing in the van to do the trick was the knockout lipstick that Lipschitz had designed--and Jane didn't think Abel would close his mouth long enough to be kissed. She might have jumped out and retrieved the compact from Gran, but she didn't want to risk some policeman leaving the restaurant at the wrong moment and hearing Abel's wrath.
Finally she grabbed her briefcase and found a piece of paper. She scribbled Must I knock you out again to shut you up? on it, hoping the threat would silence him since she wasn't at all sure she was capable of actually carrying it out.
Fortunately, holding up the sign had the effect of shutting him up. For a moment. Then another stream of fury poured forth, this time about his being knocked out. Apparently, he hadn't realized that was the case. Interesting. She should have expected that, of course. Jane recalled that the test subjects for the knockout dust had shown disorientation upon awakening as well. The drug tended to scramble some memories; she hadn't realized just how much. The tests they'd performed on the compact so far were to find out how long the subject would be out and whether he suffered any telling physical discomfort afterward. They hadn't finished everything. She'd have to make a note to learn how much pre-knockout memory was affected, she thought, then realized that Abel's anger had wound down and he'd at last fallen silent. He was glaring. It was obvious she wasn't his favorite person.