Liar

by C. L. Stone

  Marc laughed in my ear. It was difficult not to curse at him in reaction.

  The man sat back, with the smile on his face broadening. “Really? What did you think you could do for me?”

  I was stuck with my choice, now. I tossed my hair and then sat down in one of the ugly chairs. I placed the bugged phone on his desk in front of me. “To be honest, not really sure. I was checking down the road for a job, and someone mentioned this place. Do you need someone like a secretary? An assistant?”

  “Can’t afford anyone that can’t pull her own weight,” he said. He leaned forward, planting his elbows on the desk. His stared briefly at my face, and then his eyes slid to my chest and stayed there.

  Ick. Maybe Raven was right about my tank top shirts. I shoved the bugged phone aside, tucking it behind a pile of paperwork like I just wanted it out of the way, and then leaned forward on the desk, too, letting my breasts stick out a bit. “I can do more than just take a few phone calls,” I said. If I could get him talking about the job of a bounty hunter, maybe I could prod him about his current cases.

  He tilted his head, his eyes dragging away from my chest for just a second. He licked his lower lip. “What else can you do?”

  Too far. He thought I was hitting on him. I sat back, leaving the bugged phone tucked behind the paperwork. As long as he didn’t get a sudden urge to organize his office, it might be stuck there for days. “Seriously, I could use the money. I mean, even if it’s being one of your bounty hunters or something.”

  He shook his head. “Too dangerous for a girl.”

  “Are you the boss?”

  “I’m Henry,” he said, pointing to himself. “What’s your name?”

  “Bambi,” Marc said in my ear.

  “Rachael,” I said.

  “Aw,” Marc said.

  “Rachael,” Henry said. “I like your style, but I don’t know if I need someone right now.”

  “Ask him about his current cases,” Marc said. “If you can get him to talk, see how much he might know.”

  “Don’t you need a girl around here? I mean, I knew a few bounty hunters. All big muscles and bulldozing onto the scene.” I was going by what I’d seen on television and from my own earlier experience from Fred’s apartment. “Couldn’t you use a girl to scout or lure guys out?”

  He rubbed a spot behind his ear. “You think you could do that?”

  I shrugged. “Tell me about any cases you’re on. If you’ve got a lead I could check out...”

  “You don’t know how this works,” he said. “I can’t let you pursue a fugitive. You don’t have a license.”

  “Team me up with one of your guys,” I said. “I don’t have to make the capture myself, do I? I can just lure someone out.”

  “Don’t,” Marc said. “Too far. You just need to get information.”

  I ignored this. What better way to get on the good side of a bond agency than to ride around with one of the agents? If they’re working the case, I could ask one of them what they knew about Fred. If I found out they were getting close, I may even be able to keep them busy while the guys got Fred to safety.

  “Give me a chance,” I said. “I don’t scare easy. Like I said, I need the money.”

  Henry sat back, his arms folded over his chest, making the chair creak with his large body pressing against it. “Maybe,” he said.

  “You’ve got a visitor,” Marc said.

  The office door opened. It was a girl with closely cropped, bleached white hair, mocha skin and a thick bubble ass that I could never manage to get myself without surgery. She wore a leopard print halter top, a pair of short, skin-tight shorts and Doc Martin boots.

  And then I studied the shorts and realized ‘she’ had the biggest noticeable bulge in the front.

  “Christ, Fortune,” Henry said. He sat back and frowned, putting a hand up to cover his eyes. “Put some clothes on.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you?” She stomped toward the desk, planting her hands on it and leaning forward. “My name is Future. Like your future is going to be six feet under unless you give me a damn case.”

  Future’s voice was masculine, with the pitch turned up for femininity, and with a specific sweet Georgian accent.

  Henry shook his head. “How many times do I have to tell you? There aren’t that many cases right now. I can’t give you anything if someone hasn’t skipped.

  “Then lease me out,” Future said. “Let me work for another agency.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Damn it, Henny-Benny,” she said. She stood up full again and snapped her finely manicured fingernails at his face. “Mama’s got a date. She needs a new pair of shoes. Give me something.”

  He thought it was too dangerous for me to go out, but he’d let a cross-dresser on his team? I didn’t have a problem with it, except Future was probably a walking target for bigots to beat up on. She’d be a liability running after thugs.

  I met Henry’s eyes, which he rolled delicately. “Fine. Do me a favor though. Why don’t you take her with you?” He pointed at me before he took up a stack of files on his desk and started opening them.

  Future turned her big brown eyes on me. She angled her head, studying. “You’re not here for a bond?” she asked.

  “She came in looking for a job,” Henry said.

  Future smirked, baring bright white teeth. “Hot damn. Perfect. A partner is just what I need.” She circled the chair I was sitting on. “Stand up. Let me see what size you are. If we can swap clothes, I may just have some things for you. Henry, give us someone we can work with some sex appeal. I’ve got an idea.”

  “Hell no,” Marc said in my ear.

  I jumped up, grinning. I liked her. “I’m a size eight.” Or nine but I could squeeze into an eight. Good enough.

  Henry groaned. He passed over a file. “Do me a favor. Don’t kill her. Just show her the ropes. If she doesn’t run screaming, you can choose to keep her. But you’re splitting the cash with her. She doesn’t have a license, so she’s your responsibility.”

  “No license, huh?” Future rocked her head back and forth. “That’s fantastic. Tell you a secret. Don’t let jackass here talk you into a contract.”

  “Hey,” Henry said, nearly growling. “Shut up.”

  “He paid for my schooling, see?” She picked up the file Henry had slipped over, weaved her arm to capture my elbow and then turned me toward the door. “He won’t let me work for anyone else in the state now. It’s total shit, too. I’m his bitch until I’ve made him like nearly a million dollars.”

  I left the phone tucked behind the files. I was hoping to leave the other device somewhere close but I didn’t know where to plant another one now without drawing attention, so I held on to it.

  “Should have never let you talk me into that,” Henry said.

  Future released me to turn on him. “Then let me out of my contract.”

  “Pay me,” he snapped back.

  Future rolled her eyes, and then snagged my arm again to drag me toward the door. “Come on, honey, before he undresses us with his eyes any further. He’s a real pervert.”

  “Don’t go with her,” Marc said.

  “Did he really give us a case?” I asked. Chasing down bad guys? My blood was pumping. Besides that, she hated her boss. If anyone was going to talk about Fred, I bet I could get her to talk.

  “Sure did, sweetie,” Future said. She walked me out to the white front porch and then opened the file. “Meh. It’s a $500 reward. Looks simple enough, though.”

  I leaned over her arm to read. “He was arrested for armed robbery?”

  “Kayli,” Marc growled. “Get out of there.”

  “With a toy gun,” she said. She closed the file, fanning herself with it. Her blonde locks on her head feathered out. “He’s a kid. This will be easy. He probably slept in on his court date. Some of these guys are real idiots. We just need to pick him up.”

  “Point me to him,” I said. “How does this work?�
��

  Future smiled big. “First thing, we need to change that shirt. That shirt is shit. Who the hell dressed you this morning?”

  I thought our shirts were very similar, except hers was in leopard print and a halter. We were exposing about the same amount of cleavage.

  “What’s wrong with your shirt?” Marc asked.

  Future looked down the street. She pointed out a car, a refitted two-door Montego, painted a bright red. “And we need a vehicle change. We need a van. Let me call around and see if I can find one. I’ve got an idea.”

  “We’ve got a van,” Marc said. “You are only doing this if I come with you.”

  “I’ve got a van,” I said.

  “And a Marc to go with you,” Marc said.

  “Do we need backup?” I asked.

  Future laughed, opened her trunk and motioned her hand to the contents. “Honey bun, does it look like I need any help?”

  The inside of her trunk was a display of different clothes, weapons and devices I didn’t know where to start.

  I smiled at the fuzzy pink handcuffs.

  RUNNERS

  The only reason Marc didn’t drag me out like a caveman was because I kept going. He insisted I scream or something if I got into trouble. I had a feeling this would work. I just needed time with Future. He needed to trust me that I could handle myself. I may not be able to outgun her, but I could run, and he had my back. Good enough.

  Marc fed me directions in my ear, guiding me to pick up the box van Brandon had conveniently deposited at a vacant house in a neighborhood not too far from Mrs. Gunther. Brandon was going to walk the neighborhood, keeping an eye on the grandmother just in case Fred came by.

  On the way, Future pointed at my hand. “What’s that?” She squinted. “That’s fake.”

  I looked down, noting the scarab beetle. “I…was thinking of a tattoo.”

  “It looks good but don’t put it there,” she said. “Maybe on your ass like real girls do.”

  “I don’t want a tramp stamp.”

  “It’s not a tramp stamp,” she said. “It’s ass art.”

  “You have one?”

  “Not yet,” she said. “You can’t cover up perfection.”

  I smothered a laugh.

  “Are you shitting me?” Future asked as she pulled up on the street, and I pointed at the box van. “That’s so perfect. You just had one of these sitting around?”

  “Family inheritance,” I said.

  Marc laughed in my ear. I’d spotted the SUV following us. Marc let me know on the way that Axel was hanging back at the tiki bond place to listen in on Henry, and to follow him if he went anywhere.

  “It’s a dream come true,” Future said. She jumped out of the Montego and then planted her hands on her hips. “Girl, you’ve got the good life.”

  “So it’ll work?”

  “Yeah, it’ll work.” She pointed to the van. “Do you know what you can do in a van like that?”

  “Kill people,” Marc said. “Kidnap toddlers by luring them in with candy. Make a bomb and plant it downtown. Kinky sex. Lots of kinky sex.”

  “Carry a lot of stuff in the back?” I asked.

  “Carry a lot of fat asses back to the station,” Future said. “Where’s the keys?”

  “Inside,” Marc said. “Under the seat.”

  I walked up to the van, opening the driver’s side door. I snagged a set of keys from under the seat and pulled them out, showing them to her. “Where do we go?”

  “Hang on,” she said. She went back to her car and opened the trunk. “First we need a wardrobe change.”

  I strolled forward, hoping she wasn’t going to ask to use the house, since I didn’t have access.

  Future pulled out a folded set of clothes from the trunk and started shuffling. She held out a red tartan kilt. “School girl,” she said. “We’ll make this real easy.”

  “I’m starting to like Future,” Marc said. I could almost hear him grinning.

  My hope had been that we’d just barrel in on someone with the guns she was toting in her car. “We have to wear skirts?” I asked.

  “Darling,” she said. She turned to me, squinting her eyes, making her long lashes flicker. “Wait a second, what’s your name, anyway?”

  “Bambi,” Marc said.

  “Rachael.”

  “Aw.”

  Future shook her head. “Naw, you don’t look like a Rachael.”

  “Because you’re a Bambi,” Marc said.

  I smothered a grunt. “Can’t we just go in with the guns?”

  “We want to avoid the guns,” she said. “They won’t accept them at the jail with gunshots. Guns are a last resort. This is going to be real simple. We’re going to put on the pretty, lure him out, and then trap him in the van. Easy peasy.”

  I glanced over at Future, at the bulge in her shorts and now that I knew her for what she was, the more masculine features of her face. “Think we’re his type?”

  “I’m the best sort of type,” she said. She turned her head, held her bubble butt out and created a thigh gap as she posed. She positioned the kilt in front of herself, hiding the last bit of masculinity she had. “I’m whatever he wants me to be.”

  She did have a point.

  She flicked the skirt at me. “Put this on.”

  There wasn’t really anyone hanging around the neighborhood. I stood where the car was going to mask most of the nudity to the majority of the neighborhood, and slipped the skirt on over the shorts. I tugged the shorts off after.

  Marc did a cat call whistle in my ear.

  I started to dig out the ear piece.

  “Don’t take your ear piece out.”

  “One more comment,” I murmured.

  “You look hot,” he said. “Want to go out after you’re done playing? Ask her if you can keep that skirt.”

  I rolled my eyes and stepped out where Future had on a green tartan skirt. She’d replaced the leopard print with a white see-through T-shirt that was cut and twisted to frame her body, showing off the pink bra underneath.

  I realized then her breasts had to be implants, but the work was done really well. With the skirt, she was a walking success story for whatever surgeon she’d used.

  She tossed over a button up shirt, a loose fit. “Put that on,” she said. “Then tie it.”

  I managed to put the shirt on, but tying it off was more than I could do. It ended up basically sagging off my shoulders and the tie looked like a lump.

  “Rachael, honey,” she said. She grabbed me by the hem of the skirt, tugging me closer. She caught two ends of the shirt and did a weird twisty thing and then the shirt was tied off up close to my breasts. “How do you manage to get by in this world if you don’t know how to tie off a shirt? I should make you take the tank top off.”

  “This white shirt is see-through. I’ll get arrested for public nudity.”

  She winked at me. “You should show off boobs like that. Those fuckers can get you really far in this world if you know how to use them. You should show them off any chance you get.”

  “Here, here,” Marc said.

  “Can we get going?” This plan I’d concocted was getting less thrilling by the minute. Future was fine, but the skirt was itchy. I was wondering if I was showing off my underwear with how short it was. I kept wanting to reach behind me and tug it back down.

  She picked out a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs, a couple of cans of pepper spray, a Taser and a .38. She tucked them all into a handbag which she positioned it at her elbow. “Let’s roll.”

  “Thought you said we didn’t need a gun.”

  “I said let’s not shoot him,” she said, “If we can help it.”

  She had me put on a pair of kitten heels, which were a little big but manageable. She pulled out a pair of knee-high boots, tucking them under her arm while she closed and locked the trunk.

  I jingled the keys and headed toward the van.

  “Wait,” Marc said. “You’re driving?”


  I had a spot where I could have said something because Future was on the other side of the van, heading toward the passenger side. Instead, I held the keys above my head, jingling them again.

  “Do you have a license? Wait, you don’t have a license. Can you even drive?”

  I hopped into the driver’s side and turned the engine.

  It did take some adjustments to get used to driving the van. For one, it felt like I was driving a monster truck with how high the seat was. The van really was a tank. The back was blocked off by a metal wall with a sliding window in the middle. The inside of the cargo area was empty, not even a bench seat.

  I managed to figure out the brake sensitivity before we got out of the neighborhood. I stopped taking wider turns by the time we were almost to our destination.

  Our toy gun armed robber was named Danny. Danny lived in a trailer park near the beach. It looked like the area was meant for a retirement village initially, and slowly wore down to accepting anyone willing to take the rusted-out homes.

  “If I were a guy who skipped my court date,” I said as Future pointed out the directions. “I don’t think I’d stay home.”

  “People are idiots,” she said. “He was probably only facing community service. He stole forty dollars. Now he’ll get a couple months in jail.”

  “So he just sits at home waiting for a bounty hunter to come get him?”

  “First off, we’re not bounty hunters, okay?” She finished lacing up the last of her boots. “We’re called runners down here.”

  “Runners? That’s not what you call the guys who run off?”

  “No,” she said. She twirled her finger in the air. “You’ve got to accept the lingo if you’re going to work. I didn’t make this shit up. We’re called runners. This skip is probably doped up. Most likely he didn’t even know his court date passed already.”

  “Can’t we just tell him to go with us?”