The Tell-Tale Con

by Aimee Gilchrist

  “Is there anyone else you can think of who might want to hurt me? Any other reason I might be intended as a victim?”

  Ana spent a long silent moment looking lost in thought, but I could tell it was manufactured. Her shrewd mind was hard at work on some puzzle that had little to do with Harrison’s question. What was she up to?

  “I’m sorry, but no. I can’t. You will be careful though, won’t you? If anything strange happens at all, you’ll call the police.” It wasn’t a question. It was a directive. “Even if they don’t believe you.”

  We said our goodbyes—well, Harrison did anyway; I stood aside and watched—and left Ana in her apartment. That hadn’t helped me much. It hadn’t been that long a conversation, but I had learned nothing from it. Ana looked neither more guilty nor more innocent. Basically, it had been a waste. I still thought she was suspicious as hell.

  Harrison, however, seemed to be contented with the conversation. He didn’t appear nervous anymore. I was not nearly as convinced. But I also wasn’t stupid enough to tell him that.

  It was getting dark by the time we got back to Mr. Wong’s and The Library. Harrison parked on the curb and shut off the ignition. “Talia…”

  I had no idea what he meant to say but he hesitated so long that I began to be uncomfortable, picturing any number of things he might be brewing. As long as none of them were about emotions, I’d be okay.

  “I hope that you’re being careful.”

  It was not what I’d expected him to say, so I had no idea how to respond. He sounded exactly like the talk that my “mentor” in the “endangered teens” program in Cali had given me about safe sex. I cringed.

  “Um…I’m always careful.” It was true. Careful was how you stole people’s treasures, memories, futures, and didn’t get caught. Careful had been bred into me from birth.

  “I know, but honestly, I feel bad. I mean, I got you into this.”

  “Actually, I got me into this. I’m the one who convinced you to hire me. You don’t need to feel guilty.”

  He shrugged, looking sullen. “I didn’t have to hire you. I mean, it’s not like you have a ton of experience. You just seemed so competent. I was fairly certain that you were capable of solving the demon problem. There was no way of knowing what it would escalate into. I want you to be careful. Watch, all the time, okay? I’m worried.”

  I took off my seatbelt and opened the car door, sliding out a foot. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re going to refuse to watch out for yourself?” He seemed incredulous.

  “I don’t need to take any extra care. I’m okay. I’m always watching.”

  Mouth pinched, he opened his door too and pulled himself out. “I’m walking you across.”

  I didn’t need him walking me home like I was six. Or like it was a date. I’d be fine. “I’m okay. I don’t need an escort.”

  He sighed. “Look, I feel bad. If I could feel any better at all for doing the one little thing, that wouldn’t actually hurt you at all, couldn’t you just let me do it?”

  When he phrased it that way it made me sound petty and stupid to refuse him. “Okay, fine.”

  “Thank you.”

  We waited until the traffic passed and ran across. He followed me through Mr. Wong’s at hyperspeed since I didn’t want any questions from the Wong contingency. He was going to start getting ideas about Harrison and me, if we weren’t careful.

  Even if he didn’t, if he saw me he’d want to tell me all about what I ought to be doing, and I didn’t have the time or patience for that crap now.

  We stomped up the stairs, and I stopped on the last step and turned to say goodbye. He was directly behind me, and not so much with the stopping. He slammed right into me, full frontal. I held out my hands to break his movement, but I didn’t end up checking him, just pushing myself off his chest so that I almost fell against the door. He grabbed me around the waist and kept me upright.

  Then we stood there for a second, looking like the cover of some cheesy romance, his arms around me, my hands on his chest, me sort of bent over backwards in that bizarre position romance heroines were always standing in to best display their bosoms a’heaving. He smelled insanely good.

  Though it wasn’t his fault, I gave him a shove in my haste to get away and he started to fall backward, caught unawares. Bracing my feet, I reached out and grabbed him, and now we were in the reverse cover trope. He laughed softly, and I had to smile at that one. But only for a second.

  “Go home, Harrison. You’re the one who needs to be careful.”

  “I will be.”

  He gave me a long, measured look like he was trying to figure something out. But whatever it was, he didn’t share it with me. I was glad when he tossed out a casual goodbye and disappeared back into the laundromat. I stayed where I was, leaning up against the 70’s style wood paneling in the hallway until I heard the bells chime over Mr. Wong’s door.

  Getting Mark’s number didn’t prove to be hard, and though I felt bad for calling at eight since he had all those kids and everything, I dialed him up the second I was in my room.

  “Hello?” He sounded tired.

  “Um, hi. This is Harrison’s…friend. Talia. From earlier. Also from the set.” I hated talking on the phone unless I had a plan, like with Ginger the assistant. It was impossible to see what the other person was doing or thinking, and that made it a useless exchange for me.

  “Right.”

  “Look, Harrison told me that you offered to watch him. You know, follow him around or whatever.”

  He didn’t sound as though he’d yet formed an opinion as to why I’d called. “Yeah, I did.”

  “He also told me he said he didn’t want you to.”

  Now Mark sounded irritated. “That’s also true.”

  “Yeah, well, I was kind of wondering if you would do it anyway. He’d never have to know.”

  There was a long silence on the other side of the phone. So long that I was almost ready to ask if he was still there, when he finally spoke. “I was going to anyway. I already called some of my employees about taking over on the set. I didn’t want anyone to know, because I don’t want Harrison to know.”

  “Well, I certainly won’t tell him. And I hope that you won’t tell him I called recommending you go against his wishes.”

  “I won’t. I appreciate you calling. It makes me feel better to know that Harrison has you.”

  I hung up the phone wondering why a throwaway phrase was pissing me off so much. Harrison didn’t have me. I was just…whatever.

  I punched out Hector’s number, still itching to fight with someone. But that someone wouldn’t be Hector, because I needed another favor. Hector picked up after the first ring. “Whoever you are, you’re bothering me.”

  I had to laugh. “What the hell, Hector? That’s the worst phone etiquette ever in the history of the world.”

  “Hey, Talia.” He sounded bored now, like he didn’t care about my opinion on his chatting skills.

  “What if I were Yvonne?”

  That got his attention. “Oh, true.”

  “Try hello. ‘Whaddya want’ would be an improvement.”

  He laughed. “Okay, fine. I’m sorry. What do you want?”

  “I need a favor. But I don’t know any other cheerleaders, so don’t ask.”

  Snorting, he demanded, “Well, what is it, then?”

  “I need you and your trusty cameras to do some spying. But you can’t tell Harrison.”

  I could practically hear him rubbing his hands together with glee over the line. “Tell me more.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Rules of the Scam #1

  Never let it become personal…

  Once I gave Hector the names, addresses and physical descriptions of Ana and Kanako, I could concentrate on my homework. I’d been falling behind in the last few days, War and Peace shockingly less important than life or death. But it didn’t take me long to catch up. Public school was an insult to almost everyone. My
parents were skewed, but they were smart. They’d passed down their brains to me. If only I could skip straight to college.

  When I finished everything I went to bed, still unsure if I was supposed to join Harrison in the morning or not. We didn’t have a specific plan. I didn’t want to hop over there and hang out with no list of people to see. Then again, what if there was no one around to watch him? I didn’t know when Mark was planning to show up in the morning.

  What if someone caught him unawares? It wasn’t safe. The thought of him hurt made my stomach hitch. Irritated, I elected to go over there anyway. Or at least to call. What I didn’t need to do was decide yet another person was my responsibility.

  But, it would seem, I couldn’t help it.

  I called Harrison early Sunday morning, but Kanako told me he was still asleep so I set out for the local coffee shop to hook up with Hector and Sam. Once I found ‘Half a Cup’, two streets over and three up, Hector was already there, but there was no sign of Sam.

  Hector was wearing a velour pantsuit that should have been illegal and intently concentrating on his iPad, blocking the two dissatisfied college poet types who were trying to get to the ‘black’ station where they could pour their own coffee straight.

  I sat down at the table. “What do you know, Hector?”

  He glanced up at me and smiled vaguely, like he was reacting, but wasn’t entirely certain why. I put my hand on top of the screen. “Hey.”

  He shook his head and snatched the iPad away, turning it off and sliding it into his backpack. “Don’t do crap like that. Okay, I followed that Ana chick first. I can show you the videos, but here’s how it went. She came out of her place at six, went to the gym, worked out for, like, ever, and then went to Starbucks. She ordered a venti frappuccino. I asked the woman at the window what the hot chick in front of me ordered. Said I wanted the same thing. It was gross, by the way.”

  So far this was of little interest to me. “Okay, when does something interesting happen?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Freaking never. I should have stayed asleep. After that, she went to this boarded up building on Central. I asked a homeless dude, who said it was a clinic. Didn’t look like any clinic I’ve ever seen.”

  That sounded more promising. “What did she do in there?”

  Hector shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t follow her in. She came out after, like, maybe, five minutes with a brown paper bag. Little. Like a sack lunch. But I doubt she was picking up her lunch. I don’t know what she was doing.”

  I had an idea. And I was pretty sure it involved narcotic pain killers. But that was a supposition I was keeping to myself. “So what did she do after that?”

  “She went to this subdivision, practically in the valley. It was not finished, you know. But I think that must be where Harrison’s dad is filming. Anyway, she went into a little trailer. I waited for ten minutes, but she never came out so I figured she was at work. I left to find the other lady.”

  “What about Kanako? What’d she do? I mean, you did catch her, right?” I hadn’t considered the fact there were two women and only one Hector.

  “Nah, I sent my older brother Juano. He’s between jobs. I talked to him on the phone a couple of minutes ago. He said she didn’t come out until like twenty minutes ago and then she went right to High Range Country Club and hasn’t come out.”

  “High Range Country Club. Where have I heard that name before?” I was thinking out loud but Hector answered anyway.

  “It’s where all the social climbers go. If you have designs on being important in this town, you need to be there.”

  Who was a member there? Aside from Kanako, anyways. Sam. Sam had mentioned cotillion there or something like that. If Sam was a member, she would know Kanako. Sam was perfect for what I needed. Good thing she was on her way. Late. But on her way.

  “Thanks, Hector I really appreciate what you’re doing.”

  After delivering his assignment, Hector disappeared back into the world of his iPad, and I waited impatiently for Sam. Finally, ten minutes later, she showed up, breathless and slightly rumpled, like a girl from a show about college students who were always on the move in some cosmopolitan city.

  I waved hello and waited until she’d settled in to launch my questions. But once she’d ordered and sat, I launched right in. Because if I didn’t, she would start talking about people I didn’t know and stuff I didn’t care about. “You belong to High Range Country Club, right?”

  She smiled at me. “Yes, I take tennis lessons there, too. Why, are you interested in the club?”

  As if they’d ever let someone like me inside, unless I was trying to come in through the employee door.

  “Actually, I’m interested in Kanako Poe. I hear she has a membership.”

  Sam’s expression clouded for a second before she smiled brightly. “Oh, I know her. I didn’t realize her last name was Poe. Otherwise I would have guessed she was Harrison’s mom.”

  “She’s his step-mom,” I felt compelled to point out.

  “Well, okay, whatever. She’s like a little Asian chick, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one. What does she do over there?” I was curious what Kanako did with her time. And if any of it came off as time spent planning murderous rampages on her step-children.

  “She takes tennis lessons at the same time I do. One court over. She isn’t very good though. I mean, I think I’m better, and that’s not saying anything good about her backhand, you know what I mean? Actually, she’s there a lot. I’m guessing it might be where she spends the bulk of her time.”

  Sam tucked her hair behind her ear and looked down at her phone. “Anyway, yeah, I know who she is.”

  “Well,” I was going to ask her to watch Kanako, but at the last moment I changed my mind. “Can you take me in?”

  Sam glanced up at me. “Where? To the club?”

  No, to Mars. Or the grocery store. Or that new drag queen bar a couple buildings up from Mr. Wong’s. Seriously? Indication number one that she wasn’t with me. My mother would have been sorely disappointed. I was trying to get someone to do something for me, and I was losing her so completely. “Yes, to the club.”

  “Oh.” She seemed surprised again, and I had no idea what was so consuming over there. “Okay. Let me finish this, and I’ll take you over.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  The rest of the morning dragged on while I waited for Sam and Hector to finish whatever they were doing. I wondered if there was an app to help people step away from their technology.

  I wanted to talk to Kanako. And Sam could talk to Kanako’s friends, because it was an absolute guarantee that she knew every one of them, at least by sight and name, if not personally.

  I meant to not check in with Harrison again today. At least not until I was done talking to Kanako. I knew that, by now, Mark would have mobilized, and he’d be somewhere around, watching. But I was still waiting on Sam when Harrison came through the door of ‘Half a Cup,’ looking around for us. I wasn’t sure how he knew we were there, but here he was.

  Hector glanced up. “Hey, bro. You got my email.”

  “Yep.” Harrison’s clothes were rumpled. He looked like he’d been sleeping in them. Possibly under his bed. I felt a distinct urge to punch the metal table in front of me. My aggression was equal to how much I felt that he was now one of my responsibilities and how much part of me was okay with that. “What are you doing?”

  I stopped myself from giving a sarcastic answer. But I also couldn’t bring myself to give the scathing dismissal that I wanted to. Something that would push him away. Instead I told the truth. “We’re going over to the country club to see if I can get Kanako to talk to me. I can’t lie to her. She knows who I am, and that makes it hard. But I’ll make do.”

  If he had any opinions on my propensity towards lying, he was wise enough not to make them. He merely pulled up a chair and signaled to the waitress. “I’m going to call some of the people on the list that Ana ga
ve me this afternoon.”

  “What are you going to tell them?” I wasn’t sure how I felt about him trying to make up personas on the fly.

  “I don’t know. I’ll think of something. I’ve been taking lessons from a very good teacher.” His smile was infectious, and it took a lot not to grin back at him.

  I had officially broken rule number one of the scam.

  “I’ll call you later.” I grabbed up my purse and tapped Sam on the shoulder. She stood and followed me out without looking up from her phone. When I glanced behind us, Harrison hadn’t moved. He was still sitting there, watching me leave.

  High Range Country Club was nestled lovingly at the base of the Sandia Mountains, the way only stuff that belonged to rich people could be. Flawlessly integrated into the landscape, it was a two-story, brown stucco and glass building that was nearly a whole city block long. Sam drove past an epic golf course, littered with old people in stupid shorts, until we reached the actual building.

  She parked in a spot near the tennis courts and hung a plastic placard off the rearview mirror, attesting that she was permitted to be here.

  We got out, and I followed her to the club house. She’d stopped at her house first and made us both change into tennis whites, cautioning, “You can’t go wandering around the club in jeans and a tee-shirt, Talia. No one will talk to you, let alone tell you secrets.”

  Since I knew the importance of a good costume, I wasn’t going to argue with that logic. Tennis whites were amazingly…unwhiter than I might have thought. Sam had a considerable wardrobe of tennis clothes, and very little of it was actually white.

  She was a little bit taller than me, not so much that it was remarkable, but enough that her tennis dresses were too long. So she outfitted me in separates and herself in a dress from the same line. Her shirt was black with gold piping, and her absurdly short skirt was black and shiny gold plaid. I was given a black tank top with gold piping and a microscopic tennis skirt that was made of spandex but looked like gold metallic spray paint.