by C L Bauer
“Gretchen, I am so busy, and they just found my stolen car.”
“Lily,” Gretchen shouted, “I saw Garrett Notte with that young man at the club Sunday night. Garrett gave him something in a packet. I couldn’t get close enough to see what it was.”
Lily was picturing Gretchen hiding behind some exquisite 1920’s lamp atop some antique credenza, outfitted in her specially designed spy ensemble, complete with dark glasses even though she was inside the dining room and it was pitch black outside. She would also have her whip and martini glass (a girl couldn’t drink cosmopolitans all the time) and would have to balance on her stiletto heels in her crunch position.
“So, where are you going with this?”
“Lily, do you think that Garrett might be a drug dealer?”
Lily sat straight up and placed her glasses back on her face as some sort of protection from wild thoughts. Her mind had engaged and began to put pieces of a puzzle together. Gretchen may have solved the mystery again.
“Oh my God, Gretchen.”
“I know, I know, you think I’m an idiot.”
On some weddings with you, well most times even if we weren’t working with you, but not this time.
“No, I don’t. Gretchen, he didn’t see you, did he?”
“Lily, you’re scaring me. You don’t think I’m an idiot?”
Lily took in another breath in a feeble attempt to calm herself. “No, I don’t. Garrett was somehow involved in that whole frozen gel, ice pack fiasco. Then, this past Saturday, he was seen in the vicinity of more drugs and now this.”
“I told you there have been rumors of kids overdosing. Now this boy is dead, and just the other day Myrna Long, that supremely wonderful photographer I like to use for my weddings, told me that the Cravens lost their daughter to an overdose. They told everyone that she had a genetic heart problem, but the girl ran track all her life. These are very rich and intelligent young men and women.”
And Gretchen was back. “Gretchen, rich kids can be drug addicts too. Don’t be so elitist. They begin with oxycodone for some sports injury, and then they need more like cocaine, heroine, fentanyl, whatever to ease some pain within themselves.”
“My, haven’t we learned from the special agent. I just live in a different world.”
Lily was done. No, Gretchen, you live on a different planet. They would never be best friends. “Stop being a snob. It’s not pretty, never has been and frankly, it’s getting old. There’s drugs on every social rung. People are dying and it’s very serious.”
“Well, you don’t have to be so snippy. Here I am out of the goodness of my heart telling you what I know, and you aren’t appreciating me.”
Lord, didn’t I ask for patience? Lily sighed. “You’re right. I just have a lot of stuff going on right now. I’m sorry.” She felt nauseous. She was apologizing to Gretchen. How could she go on? Take me now, Lord.
“So, Lily, what should we do? Do you want me to follow him?”
“No, Gretchen,” Lily yelled over the phone. Abby came running out at the noise. She mouthed “what’s wrong” and Lily mouthed “Gretchen”. Abby nodded knowingly and scurried back to work. That woman was trouble with a capital T, but she did have amazing six-inch heels. Abby especially loved the leopard ones with gold heels. If Lily or she ever wore them they’d fall over in a heap and then have to crawl to a chair just to stand up again.
“Should we tell your very special agents?”
“Let’s not get carried away. It’s probably nothing. Let me think about it, and I’ll give you a call back later this week. If you feel comfortable with it I guess you could tell the police what you saw.”
Gretchen laughed. “Oh no, sweetie. I couldn’t do that. I was at the club when that happened. I’d lose my entire client base if they thought I was a snitch.”
What was this, a bad rendition of the musical Chicago? She expected the woman to start belting out the song, “He Had It Coming”.
“So, let’s talk maybe Thursday, Gretchen.” Anything to get her off the phone immediately.
“Wonderful. We have a plan, partner. Talk later. Toodles.”
Partner? Toodles? Could this week get any worse?
“Take that back, Lily Schmidt. It can get worse and you know it,” she muttered out loud as she held her head in her hands. She had a headache. She would name it Gretchen.
No sooner had she hung up, her phone rang again. It was the dealership.
“Hey, Lily, this is Jeff Potter. I have a question for you? You running a side business in your very little spare time?” He was laughing.
Now what? Lord, I’m just no good at this patience stuff. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, we started to check out your car and we ran into a little problem.”
“It’s called poop and pee, Jeff. That’s not a little problem and I’m hearing the insurance company wants to fix the thing.”
“We won’t let that happen. I don’t trust it. Lots of miles in a short span of time were put on this car.” His tone had turned deadly serious. “Besides, I have my brother here, the detective, and there’s a real problem with this entire situation. We found drugs, needles and a collection of porn that would make Hugh Hefner blush, you know, the guy who used to own Playboy.”
Lily sat by her desk, in her chair with her mouth wide open. Yes, she knew of Hugh Hefner. What she didn’t know about were drugs, needles and porn.
“Jeff, I don’t understand any of this.”
“Well, get in line. Here, my brother wants to talk to you.”
“Ms. Schmidt, Detective Potter. So, we’re going to keep the car here. There is a situation. We will be contacting your insurance company and they’ll have to total the car, but we’ll be keeping it for awhile. In the meantime, I’ll have Detective Sharon Burton contact you. I believe you know her.”
Lily’s head was still spinning from the drugs, needles and porn. The poop and pee were the least of her problems. “I don’t know.”
“You did her wedding. Her maiden name was Fitzgerald. You did her sister’s too and your family did her parents’ and grandparents”. She went to your high school.”
Click. Lily’s mind was now checking in. Sharon Fitzgerald, yes, she remembered her. “Of course. So, exactly why is she calling me? I already have the police report on file.”
She heard uncertainty and a little fear, if that was possible, in the man’s voice.
“I hate to say this but Internal Affairs will be involved. It’s much larger than just the theft of your car. We are going to place you under surveillance and Detective Burton will explain the how’s and why’s.”
Lily’s mouth was gaping open again. Not again. Her theme song would soon be “Someone To Watch Over Me”. Another year, another surveillance and another serious adventure. These adventures were making the Ozarks look great, somewhere safe and quiet. With her luck, she’d step right into a drug ring down there too. She’d visit Silver Dollar City and ride a coaster or two; scream her lungs out. She’d look over their crafts and with her luck someone would slip weed into her newly purchased crocheted pot holder, and it really would become a POT HOLDER! Did they even make those anymore?
“I’m becoming a professional victim,” she muttered. Is there therapy for this?
“Excuse me?”
“No problem, I’ll be waiting for her call. She can reach me on my cell.”
“We’ll be in touch and don’t you worry.” He hung up before she could protest.
“Are you kidding me? Don’t worry?” she screamed out loud. Abby came running back out of the backroom.
“Now what?”
Lily threw R2D2 across the room. “I’m under surveillance again. They found drugs, needles, and porn in my car, and now they have some big investigation involving the police department.”
Abby smiled. “Of course they did, and of course you are. Well, at least you’ll be used to it this time.” She quickly moved out of sight from Lily’s glare.
; Detective Sharon Burton didn’t call, she walked into the shop thirty minutes later. After a hug and the usual update on their lives, the two women sat down at the front table.
“We can’t tell you much about what is going on, but I can tell you that you will only have a female police officer outside your home. No male officers, ever.” Lily noticed she stressed “ever” and it sent cold shivers up her back. Sharon was deadly serious. Real police were actually involved, not just a bad guy playing dress up.
“Got it. Should I be looking for someone or something?”
“No, Lily, except no male officers. Don’t even talk to any of them. If they come in the shop tell them nothing and call me immediately.” She passed a card to her. “Here’s my direct line. I will answer that no matter the time. We believe that one of our detectives may be involved and we don’t know who else, yet.”
Lily gulped. She thought of the shootout that awful night. She glanced out of the window, and her eyes focused on the sidewalk where John had fallen.
“Sharon, last year, I don’t know if you know it, but there was some trouble here.”
“Yes, I read the file about the shooting here first before I came to see you. Wasn’t that someone dressed as a police officer?”
Lily nodded.
“I don’t think the two are related but I’m contacting the DEA and the FBI just in case. I really think this is a local matter but maybe they have some insight. By the way, I’ll be checking in every day with you, even on the weekends. A car will be posted outside your house day and night, always a woman and she will be in uniform.”
Lily nodded again.
“Lily, everything will be fine. We will protect you.”
Sharon was sincere, but Lily knew what that meant. “That’s what they all say,” she muttered without any expression. This was getting very old.
Chapter Eight
Dev wrote out his to-do list, and began to read the digital report on his laptop.
“Jesus.” His profanity was a little too loud for the mother and child two tables down from him poolside. He mouthed the word “sorry” and looked down once more to read the email from a Detective Burton. At least she knew Lily. That might make the surveillance easier. What the heck kind of cloud was hanging over Lily Schmidt? No one could be this unlucky. It was almost as though someone was pulling the strings of a demonic puppet, guiding it in Lily’s direction to pull her into hell with it.
There was a drug ring. Of course. Kansas City, Missouri was in the middle of the nation and was a fantastic transportation hub featuring a direct highway that went to Mexico and Interstate 70 that moved traffic from one coast to the other. Just the other day, police had taken dogs to check out a Greyhound bus. The dogs had found pounds of a high-level marijuana, MOJO, enough to actually kill almost a quarter of a million people.
And there was a car theft ring. No surprise. The surprise came in bringing the two together in perfect harmony. Someone with a lot of smarts was orchestrating this illegal symphony. The Kansas City Police Department Internal Affairs Division was very close to breaking the entire thing wide open. At the center was Lily, again.
Car dealerships were infiltrated with mules for the cartel. They didn’t need to break into the cars, they made keys or had someone on the inside who handed out duplicate keys from the factory. Then, enter the police. Some detective or officer would “find” the reported stolen vehicle once it had made its way back into the area from Mexico or Canada. They’d collect their drugs and anything else in the impound lot where no one would think of a police officer checking out the car before the owner got there. Just lucky for Lily, she had arrived before said law official made his way out with the shipment. Lily’s car dealership friends had busted the operation wide open.
He finished by reading an email from a Detective Potter who had tested the fentanyl and thawed out heroine in Lily’s trunk. It was lethal. Whoever was making this stuff was going for broke. Addicts wouldn’t just be high, they’d be dead. The Kansas City office of the DEA was assisting in the operation.
“Agent Pierce, please be assured that we are at a crossroad with this emergency. Ms. Schmidt’s safety is our highest concern.”
Dev sighed, reaching for a drink of his coffee. That’s what I told her, that I’d protect her. Nothing was for sure. If they wanted to get Lily, they would.
It almost seemed as though whoever “they” were was toying with Lily. They thought she was a scared little kitten. They’d get the surprise of their lives when her claws came out. He’d analyzed her enough to know that when she finally was fed up, she would attack in her own way. It wouldn’t be pretty. But maybe he could bring help when he got there for Thanksgiving.
Chapter Nine
Lily was bringing in the last load of flowers through the belly of the hotel. If most people saw the inner workings of most restaurants and hotels, they would never eat or stay there but this venue was different. Its elevator was easy to use, there was a cart available for them and it smelled good. The fragrance of a location was very important to Lily. If it was a busy wedding day, there’d be hours between food or snacks and even water. A bad smell could turn her stomach faster than the only meal she truly hated: liver and onions. Her mom used to lie and say it was steak, but Lily always knew the truth from the smell of it cooking. She laughed as she loaded the box onto the elevator and hit the floor button. Sadly, that was probably the only food she didn’t love. Also sad was her enthusiastic “let’s get healthy and workout because Dev would be impressed” program had hit the skids. She was just too tired, and now that they’d found the prodigal car, she was back to eating semi-regularly. Well, in truth, she’d bought chips last week and ate the entire bag in two days. After that, she accidentally had whipped cream on all her cold coffee drinks all week. Accidents did happen.
Funny, the tired feeling was just another symptom of the swirling uncertainty of police protection. Feeling so protected felt so awful.
The elevator door opened and Abby stood as a sentry. She looked frantic. Now what?
“Lily, you have to see this. It’s awful.”
“How bad can it be, Abs? This is the last load of flowers.” Lily continued to push the full cart down the hallway toward the reception site.
“You haven’t seen the cake yet. The pastry chef is looking at it right now.”
Lily smirked at her assistant. “Well, he’s responsible.”
“No, he isn’t. Don’t you remember that the bride’s aunt was making the cake?”
Lily cussed under her breath. This poor bride was having an awful day. First, thunderstorms had begun around ten in the morning. The bride’s hair had gone all wrong and then her makeup artist never showed up. She was so relieved when Lily entered the room with the correct colored bouquets she’d thrown her arms around Lily’s wet body. Thankfully the bride wasn’t dressed in her gown yet.
“Oh thank you, Lily. The flowers are actually what I wanted. I mean, even my sister has messed up my wedding.”
Lily kept laying the bouquets of blush and cream roses down on a nearby table, barely looking up at the bride. She did notice that one bridesmaid’s dress didn’t match the others.
“Just look at her. She’s just sitting there texting and doesn’t care,” the bride yelled. “Mom, do something!”
The bride’s mother gathered the crying bride in her arms. “Honey, your wedding colors just didn’t look good on your sister so she bought her own dress. She told you she was going to do it.”
“But I didn’t think she’d actually sabotage my wedding. She just has to be the one in the spotlight. Remember my solo in high school? Solo, Mom, solo, but no, she had to come out on the stage and dance behind me as I sang.”
Lily couldn’t get away from the awkward moment fast enough. Pretty soon the bride would be telling stories of Christmas past and how her sister was gifted the Barbie she wanted. Lily could possibly slink out of the room slowly but the bride needed something, namely a happy thought.
&
nbsp; “You know, her sequined dress does compliment the others. Her silver will look nice with their gold dresses and remember, we are accenting with both colors at the reception. It’s going to be beautiful and everyone will just think you planned to honor your sister since she is your maid of honor.” Lily smiled nicely at her manipulation of the dilemma.
The bride turned toward Lily and then looked back at her sister and her other friends. “It does look like I did it on purpose, doesn’t it? It will look great. Oh thank you, Lily. I guess that was my plan after all.”
Lily backed away toward the door. It was time to quickly escape from the asylum. She was almost into the hallway when she heard the maid of honor say,
“Oh and did your future husband ever tell you he tried to date me first but I turned him down?” Oh crud. Lily quickly closed the door. She heard something hit the wall. She really didn’t want to know what.
And now there was something wrong with the cake. This girl couldn’t catch a break.
“Well, let’s see what we can do with the chef’s help,” she answered as they entered the room. The chef waved her in.
“Lily, look at this mess,” he said in his heavily German accented English.
Lily’s eyes followed his hand and saw the disaster waiting for them in the middle of the grand ballroom, on its own table of honor. It was supposed to be the focal point of a dream reception. It was a nightmare from hell, there was no other description.
Briefly, she stood in awe of its ugliness and started laughing. Jan, the pastry chef probably thought she had gone crazy. She quickly explained all the errors of the wedding so far and he joined her in a good healthy chuckle.
“But what are we going to do about this disaster?” Abby asked.
“You are going to continue with the guest table arrangements, and I’m going to show Jan the photo of what the bride wanted. We will see what we can do.” If Lily couldn’t be in charge of her private life she would darn well be in charge of her professional one.
