Déjà-BOOM!

by Wally Duff

  “I, ah, I’ll do it,” he said softly.

  He kept his head down as he worked. I was afraid if he looked up he might throw up.

  The slumlords who owned this crappy apartment had clearly never heard of Wi-Fi, so there was no direct computer access available. David solved this problem by using a MiFi apparatus he’d brought with him.

  After he set up his equipment, he came to life. Working with his computers saved the day. He gave us the game plan and started with a digital camera.

  “This has a telephoto lens,” he said, as he locked the camera onto a tripod. “I want each of you to take a few pictures to get used to handling and focusing it.”

  While we did, he set up a bigger camera on a tripod.

  “Do the same thing with the video camera. When you’re done, I’ll replay the shots from each camera to make sure you didn’t screw up anything.”

  We were on our way.

  98

  For the next few minutes, we practiced shooting views of the clinic and the parking lot. When David was positive we knew what we were doing, he moved on.

  “I’m going to turn the video camera on and focus it at the parking lot and two entrances,” he said. “I’ll leave it running twenty-four hours a day. The footage will simultaneously be relayed from here to my computer and then to the Hogan computers.”

  “What about Linda?” I asked.

  “Great idea. I’ll include her in the loop.”

  “What about this other camera?” Molly asked.

  “If a delivery is made, snap a still picture of the worker’s face and license plate and download it on the computer. The Hogan computers can research that person and the owner of the van or truck to make sure he or she is who they’re supposed to be.”

  “What about a man entering the clinic or even walking close to it?” I asked.

  “Again, snap a picture and send it on,” he said. “We can’t afford to miss anyone.”

  “Your company can do all this?” Cas asked.

  “It has facial recognition software and access to data from most law enforcement files in the world. Hogan said we could access those computers until Friday but not after that.”

  “What about Tony, our phony doctor?” Cas asked.

  “If the bomber does an online background check, he’ll find a full history, including several medical articles the doctor supposedly has written.”

  “Your guys are good,” Molly said.

  “As you frequently say, this isn’t their first rodeo.”

  The ever-present abortion protesters arrived about ten minutes before the clinic opened at 9 a.m. There were three of them. They pulled out folding lawn chairs and sat down, their posters at their sides.

  Zooming in with the still camera, David snapped headshots of each one of the people and then downloaded the pictures into his computer.

  “This is going to give us a chance to test the system,” he said, as he sent the intel to the Hogan computers. “We need to know who these people are.”

  Three minutes later, David’s cell phone rang. He put it on speaker. “The pictures you sent are three known protesters from the Chicago area,” a female voice said.

  David disconnected and gestured to me. “All we need now is our schedules.”

  “I’ll take the first two-hour shift,” I said. “Brittany, you’re next, followed by Molly and, finally, David.”

  He held up a black phone. “There’s one other item, and please don’t tell anyone about it, okay?” he asked.

  “No problem,” I said. “What is that?”

  “With this phone, we can monitor all the police frequencies so we’ll know what’s going on.”

  “Is that legal?” Cas asked.

  David blushed. “No, that’s why we shouldn’t tell anyone we have it.”

  “Now all we have to do is catch the bomber,” Cas said.

  99

  David had the last shift Tuesday afternoon. Wednesday morning, I opened the door to the apartment for the first shift.

  Am I in the right room?

  I sniffed.

  What the heck?

  Fresh flowers?

  I sniffed again.

  No, air freshener.

  I surveyed the room. The floor and walls had been scrubbed down. The bed and chair were gone, along with the clattering refrigerator and the lopsided kitchen table.

  This is pure David.

  He’d hung pink drapes over the now sparkling clean windows. There was a camper’s cooler plugged into the wall socket. I opened it. It was full of bottled water and fresh fruit.

  He had even brought three new folding chairs with green cushions. Two of the chairs were in front of the windows. The third was by his computer setup.

  The thing that still sucked was the lack of a bathroom in the apartment. The residents were supposed to use the one at the end of the hall. I had gone down there during my first shift and was so grossed out after I opened the door I didn’t go in.

  But not David. He’d hung up a key on the room’s wall that said “bathroom.” I wandered down to the end of the hall and unlocked the door.

  Amazing.

  He had done the best he could by scrubbing down the sink and toilet along with the floors and walls. He had purchased disposable toilet covers, handy wipes, and a bar of skin-freshening soap.

  David would make someone a great wife.

  Having him on our team was a real plus. Not only had he brought and hooked up all the equipment we would need, but we could use the bathroom when we wanted to without catching some incurable communicable disease. To have done all this, he must have stayed late, long after the clinic closed.

  I sat down to watch the clinic. After a boring first hour, I called Tony’s cell.

  “Anything new?” I asked.

  “Nope, but doesn’t make any difference, because the bomber isn’t coming there.”

  “Are you bummed to be missing the action at Micah’s lab?”

  “Massive cluster fuck out there. Don’t have enough rank to get within three blocks of the building, so rather be anywhere but there.”

  “And you’ll have a chance to be a hero here.”

  “Got that right. Bought some cool new doctor’s duds at Barney’s. Gotta look the part.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  100

  By 10 a.m. I was really bored staring out the window watching patients go in and out of the clinic. There wasn’t anyone suspicious to snap a still picture of. The video was on.

  I didn’t have anything to do.

  Or do I?

  There was one place I wanted to see for myself: the men’s bathroom in the clinic. I pulled a hoodie over my head to mask my features in case the bomber watched the clinic.

  I walked down the stinky stairs, went out the basement back door, and jogged down two blocks before I crossed the street and made my way back to the clinic entrance.

  As I approached the clinic’s front door, the taunts from the anti-abortion protesters picked up in volume when they saw me, assuming I was coming in for an abortion.

  Entering the clinic, I pulled back the hoodie and shook out my hair. I surveyed the waiting room. It was full of the women I’d watched walk into the clinic. The lady behind the desk evaluated me for a few seconds. “Sugar, in case you’re here for a consultation about an abortion, you need to make an appointment first.”

  I leaned down so no one could hear me. “I just need to use the bathroom.”

  She pointed with her pen behind her. “Back there, down the hall, other side of the men’s bathroom.”

  I stepped around behind the counter and followed her directions. I sniffed. As soon as the medicinal smells in the hallway hit my olfactory apparatus, I had to stop and shut my eyes.

  Relax. This isn’t Arlington.

  Tell that to my brain.

  As I walked toward the men’s bathroom, I put my hand on the wall to support myself. The bathroom door opened, and a man stepped out.

  Ev
erything turned black.

  101

  The next thing I knew, there was something cold on my forehead.

  “What the hell are you doin’ here?” Tony whispered in my ear.

  I opened my eyes. I was flat on my back in a bathroom. A wet paper towel was plastered on my forehead. When I saw the urinals on the wall, I knew which bathroom I was in.

  “I was bored, so I decided to check out the men’s bathroom,” I said. “I walked down the hall and saw the bomber coming out of the men’s bathroom. I guess it scared me, and I passed out. Did you see him?”

  He laughed. “Wasn’t the bomber. Was me. Went into the can to check out my outfit. Was me you saw coming out.”

  Leaning back, I saw that he wore a long white coat with a fake name, “Dr. L. Romano,” stitched in large dark blue letters above the left front pocket. He wore a fake black beard. It looked kind of sexy.

  I raised my arms. “Help me up, please.”

  Tony hesitated.

  “For God’s sake, I don’t weigh that much,” I said.

  “Not too sure about that. Was tough enough dragging you in here. Back injury from lifting you up might not be covered by our workman’s comp.”

  He walked around me a couple of times, and then his dark eyes lit up.

  I’ve seen that look before.

  He stood behind me, but I jumped up before he could put his arms under my armpits and hands on my breasts.

  It still didn’t stop him.

  “Can lock the door.” He glanced at his watch. “Got time for a quickie.”

  “Not in this lifetime.”

  “Your loss, sweets.” He stepped back. “What do you think about my outfit and the beard?”

  He had the whole doctor look going on: a heavily starched, long white coat with a stethoscope around his neck, several pens in the left front pocket, gray slacks, and highly polished, black Italian leather shoes. He caught me eying his matching dress shirt and tie.

  “Robert Graham,” he said. “Love his stuff. Got this at Sak’s on Michigan Ave.”

  I said it before he could. “No, I can’t see it.”

  He unbuttoned his white coat. “Didn’t think so. And got enough room in here so I can wear a Kevlar vest.”

  “Do you think you’ll need one?” I asked.

  “Don’t want to, but the captain insisted. Doesn’t want to lose one of his studs.”

  Of course he doesn’t.

  102

  I looked at his white coat again. “Who is L. Romano?”

  “Louis is a cousin on my mother’s side,” Tony said. “Didn’t want to use my name in case the perp checked up on me with my real name. Your boy David fixed it up on the website.”

  I dropped the soggy paper towel in the trash and began checking around. “Have you found anything?”

  “You mean like a bomb?” Tony asked.

  “No, Jimmy freaking Hoffa,” I said. “Of course I mean a bomb. Why else would I come over here to search the men’s bathroom?”

  “Don’t know. We used to do some pretty kinky stuff together. Remember when we almost got caught in the can at Joe’s Stone Crab?”

  I felt my face begin to burn with that memory.

  “No, I don’t,” I lied. “Let’s get to work. The bomber has hidden the previous bombs in the trash can, but maybe we should also check above the tiles in the ceiling.”

  He stood still.

  “Tony, you’re taller than I am. Push up the tiles and check in the ceiling.”

  “No can do.”

  “Why?”

  “Not my job description. Bomb squad does that.”

  “We don’t need a bomb squad in here. All we need to do is check around. If we find a bomb, we’ll call them.”

  He still didn’t move.

  “Okay, if you won’t do it, I will,” I said. “Here, lift me up.”

  “Don’t think so.”

  “Then let’s start with the trash can.”

  He backed up toward the door. “I’ll stand guard so some guy doesn’t come in.”

  “Whatever.”

  I was about to lift the lid on the trash can before I fully comprehended why Tony had stepped out. What if the bomber booby-trapped the trash can last week before we even got in here?

  I gently lifted my hand off the lid and tiptoed out into the hall to join Tony.

  “Let the bomb squad do this,” I said.

  “Will on Friday afternoon, right before the clinic closes. Got it all covered, sweets.”

  103

  Thursday afternoon, it was Brittany’s turn to watch the clinic. I contacted my mole again to see if that person knew what the heck was going on, but I didn’t receive a reply.

  I was beginning to feel more than a little foolish, since it seemed that everyone with a badge and registered gun was busy surrounding Micah’s clinic. I was positive they were laughing at the stupid moms and David who were watching the abortion clinic for nothing.

  In half an hour, we were going to have a meeting of the Irregulars at Molly’s house to go over our plans for Friday. David was in my kitchen baking chocolate cupcakes for everyone. He wanted them to be hot, which was why he was using my kitchen only three blocks from Molly’s home. He didn’t use Molly’s kitchen because it was always too messy for him, and he said he couldn’t work in there.

  The heavenly aroma from the oven activated my salivary glands.

  “That smells amazing,” I said. “Do you want some help putting on the frosting?”

  “No,” he said.

  “No?”

  “I have a special way to do it.”

  Of course you do.

  “Okay, fine,” I said. “By the way, did you remember that Micah invited all of us to the United Center to hear him announce his discovery to the world?”

  “I wish I could, but Saturday morning, Mary and Margaret are flying with me for a job interview in Palo Alto. Mary’s off work for a couple of days, and we’re taking a mini-vacation. We’ll be back on Wednesday.”

  “I didn’t know you were hunting for a job.”

  “Mary is missing out on too much of Margaret’s growing up. It isn’t fair, so it’s my turn to become the breadwinner so she can have some mommy time.”

  “Why not go back to work with Hogan?”

  “Eighty to ninety-hour work weeks and constant travel is the way of life with them. This is a small high-tech start-up company specializing in online cooking items.”

  Right in your wheelhouse.

  “Will you guys have to move?”

  “I hope not. That’s one of the items I have to discuss with them.”

  “Negotiate hard. We can’t do our stories without you.”

  104

  Twenty minutes later, we sat in Molly’s family room wolfing down David’s cupcakes. I had given them the report about my visit to the clinic, along with showing them the floor plans of the clinic building that Tony had given me.

  “Micah gave me tickets for all of you to attend his lecture on Monday, the 11th, at the United Center.”

  “Sorry,” Molly said. “On Saturday, we’re leaving for the Wisconsin Dells. My two older kids love the water parks. The little ones, not so much.”

  “I have three spinning classes to teach that day,” Cas said. “There’s no way I could get subs for each one of them.”

  “Guess I’ll be going alone,” I said.

  “David, what about you?” Cas ask.

  “We’re going to the San Francisco area to visit some old friends.”

  He didn’t mention the job interview, and I wasn’t going to tell everyone in case he didn’t get hired.

  “All righty then, on to further business,” I said. “Have you guys observed anything unusual at the clinic?”

  “It seems to be a medical clinic, nothing more, nothing less,” Cas said.

  “The protesters sure are nice,” Molly said.

  “Nice?” I asked. “And how would you know that?”