by Gale Borger
She continued, as if I was an active participant in the conversation. "Remember Mag with the mud dripping off her nose? Remember us all paying our fifty cents just so we could squirt the water race man at the carnival?"
She belly-laughed at that, and I'd have had to have been dead not to remember. I allowed myself a small chuckle at the sight of the water race guy running for cover.
She rolled on the bed, kicking her legs in the air and laughed gleefully: either not knowing or not caring that I was not taking a sweet stroll down memory lane with her. "Remember when we toilet papered the squad car outside the commercial building? And then they got a call and had to jump in it and take off?"
I had to chuckle at that one, because we were under suspicion but never got caught. Totally at ease, Al dropped her towel and slid on the lavender T-shirt, babbling about God knows what.
Damn. Buzz, you have to quit cussing like this all the time. Al looked stunning with all her clothes on, but I had to grudgingly admit she was a goddess in just her skin. Well, I thought with nasty satisfaction; at least I got it all over you in the bazoomba department you little home wrecker! Well, not exactly a home wrecker because we didn't have a home, or anything to wreck for that matter, but it was like she now knows my deepest, darkest secret and I was really pissed about that. I wasn't kidding when I said her best friend was none other than Rosie the News Whore. Shit.
What if she told Rosie? Or worse, what if she told J.J.? What if J.J. found out in the classifieds next week? Crap, I'll think about that later–back to Al. Maybe I could croak her and dump the body…no, Mom would worry. For some reason she liked Al. But I forgive her because Mom likes everyone.
The flannel shirt hung on Al, but it would work. It didn't matter anyway. Who would care but Al? She grabbed up a pair of black sweats and pulled them on. She cranked the waist smaller with the attached strings, yanked the towel off her head, and helped herself to Evo's round brush. I grabbed a couple pair of extra-thick wooly socks, and we were stylin'.
Finished, she looked sideways in the mirror. She patted her hips. "Good thing I have the big ole Miller butt, or these babies would never stay up." She giggled. I sat stunned that my pain in the ass sister even knew how to giggle, let alone make fun of her own butt. I gotta get out of here.
She tied the flannel above her sweat pants and giggled again. I laughed at her giggle. She laughed because I did. We looked at each other and fell on the bed laughing until it hurt.
The bedroom door swung open and again, Evo, J.J. and Bob stood staring at us as if we were escapees from the cuckoo's nest.
We sat up and I pushed my wispy brown hair out of my eyes. "J.J. Evo. You're back. Bob, hey, how are you?"
"Good, Buzz, good. It's great to see you guys. I almost didn't make it–"
He froze and stared at the bed. I sighed. Here we go again.
I heard a muffled, "Bob?" from beside me. Al took about ten pounds of long strawberry blonde curls and whipped them over her shoulder in her best Rita Hayworth impersonation. The men all stared and no one said a word. All three men just stared and swallowed.
Oh hell, someone had better throw some cold water on them, but it wasn't going to be me this time. I got up and re-piled the clothes. "Thanks for the clothes, Evo; you're a lifesaver."
"Uh, er, yeah, okay. Any time."
I squared my shoulders and squeezed out the door. I wasn't quite ready for prime time, so I ducked into Fred's room and flopped into a chair at her vanity. Yes, Fred had a real live old fashioned vanity; complete with an antique brush set and a million little colorful perfume bottles. I sat staring at the woman in the mirror and thought.
J.J. once told me he hung out with me because I was the only girl he knew who wouldn't get crazy on him. He told me I was "comfortable, like family," that he felt safe with me. Safe! The story of my life. I don't want to be safe, for God's sake. I want to be devastating for once. Sexy. I looked in the mirror, and what looked back at me? Safe. Crap. I sighed. Oh well, at least I was something. I stuck my tongue out at my reflection in the mirror and gave me a razz-berry.
I listened as Al worked her crowd next door; directing all that raw sex at Bob.
I felt a little sad because all signs of Al the giggler were gone, and the cool, arrogant bitch was back, except her hair was a rat's nest and she wore (God forbid) flannel, wool, and no makeup. Even with puffy wool feet, she hid behind the cool princess façade she had worked so many years to perfect. Poor, FBI Bob. He tries so hard to be indifferent. She's going to have him for lunch. I just had to eavesdrop at the door.
"What brings you back, Bob? Come to play with the small town girls again?"
Bob answered, "The viper speakeths. Don't give me that crap, Alexandra; you've never been small town in your life."
"Tell me my sweet." I almost gagged. "Have you spent these weeks I've been away sharpening that nasty tongue of yours?"
"You know, you should wear no makeup more often. It gives you an almost human quality."
I peeked out the door and saw Al's face change in the mirror. I was just in time to see Al suddenly realize she wore flannel and wool, and no war paint.
Damn if I didn't feel sorry for her and ran across the hall to save face. I grabbed Al's hand and yanked her off the bed. We stood side-by-side, shoulders back. Nose in the air, I addressed J.J., Evo, and Bob. "Come, Al, we will away to where we are appreciated for our inner beauty."
I shoved Al out before me and glided across the room and struck a pose in the doorway, sliding along the jamb. "Later, dahlings." I slipped out the door. It must have worked because all we could hear as we clattered down the stairs was loud, loud laughter coming from Evo's room. Figures, Al left them spellbound and I made 'em laugh… Shit.
21
A whirlwind of activity followed the Thanksgiving holiday. Being a consummate traveler, Evo orchestrated an almost hassle-free trip. I was one of the snags when I showed up at the rendezvous carrying two suitcases and wearing a pith helmet with a mosquito net, sunglasses, a tank top, a windbreaker, rain gear, gauntlet gloves, cargo pants, snake boots, and carrying a backpack filled with enough outdoor gear, toilet paper, freeze-dried food and bug spray to take a third world country on a camping trip to the Wisconsin Dells during monsoon season.
Evo explained that wearing a pith helmet for traveling was like wearing a cheese wedge hat to a wedding. Mag wanted to know the problem with either scenario, and I was thankful she wasn't coming, but I did give her the pith helmet. She would be attending Roger Ettleson's wedding next week. One needed a pith helmet around the Ettleson clan when they were drinking, which was most of the time.
Tony helped strip me down to the bare bones, but I wrestled my bug spray away from him and stuck it in a side pocket of my cargo pants. They allowed me a change of underwear and socks, a shirt, raingear, and deodorant. They told me I could bring a comb or a ball cap so after careful consideration, I chose my trusty University of Wisconsin Bucky Badger ball cap. I figured if I got lost in the damn jungle, someone might see my bright red hat, but I could wave my little black comb in the air until the cows came home and twenty years later some researcher would find that comb in petrified alligator poop.
I managed to stash a bunch of Caribou Coffee bars and some coffee teabags in my duffel bag before the men commandeered the luggage. I didn't want to take too much food because they stole my toilet paper. I smiled to myself because I also managed to steal Mag's iPod. . I secretly stashed it in my other cargo pocket. I walked like I had a full diaper, but I was happy in the knowledge that at least my belly and my brain would be taken care of. I'd worry about the mechanics of the other end later.
Evo evidentially found his pilot sober because Esteban was in great form by the time we boarded. The plane itself was a study in luxury. Seating along the sides of the plane and behind the cockpit were roomy and a soft leather. Air Force One should look so good. Wet bar, food, no dog hair–it made me very nervous.
I settled in the plush seat and shuffl
ed my cargo pockets around until nothing stabbed me in the legs. I dug around for the earphones and slid them into my ears. The sounds of a Strauss waltz danced through my senses. The Dramamine I took must have done its job because I barely noticed the passage of time.
I was rudely awakened by the sound of Led Zeppelin screaming Black Dog, and somewhere in my muddled brain I realized Mag's iPod must have changed venues automatically. I wiped the drool off the corner of my mouth and checked my shoulder for any wayward slime. I took stock of my surroundings. Thank God no one had noticed. I missed my dogs. I missed having coffee with my sisters at Sal's Diner. I even missed J.J. I wanted to call my mom to tell her I was still alive and I looked at my watch to see if it was too late to call her. It wasn't even noon yet.
"Oh crap," I said aloud.
"What?" Fred, Evo, and Sam all looked at me.
"What?"
Fred sighed. "Buzz, did you forget something?"
"Yeah, my head; but don't worry, I found it up my butt. What was I thinking by making this trip? You guys are the PhD's. I'm just a dumb ex-flat foot who hates bugs. And here I am, going to the bug capitol of the world to do, what? Haul my happy ass through the rainforest so I can be some anaconda's afternoon snack? I hate snakes worse than bugs. No offense guys, but I hate things that want to kill me, four legged, two legged, or no legged."
"Now, Buzz," Fred said in the condescending mom tone I so loathe, "Maybe we'll find you a bad guy to shoot or something. You'll feel much better then. Just take another Dramamine and you'll wake up somewhere over Central America."
"Shut up, Fred. I saw Romancing the Stone. I know what it's like down there! Have you ever seen those pictures of the one lane mountain roads in Bolivia? No guard rails! Parts are crumbling off–the road just suddenly isn't there! They cut goat trails on the side of a mountain and expect you to drive on them stuck with Velcro or something!"
"Buzz, you're working yourself up for no reason. Bolivia is not Venezuela. Tell her, Evo."
"Actually, she's correct about the mountain roads in Bolivia–"
Sam jumped out of her seat. "Shut up, Evo, you're not helping." A phone rang and Evo moved to pick it up. Sam came to sit next to me and explained, "We're all in this together, Buzz. We all are going to be slapping the same bugs, and hiking the same trails."
I tried for nonchalance and it came out snotty. "Yeah, but I'm about twenty years older and about an axe handle wider than you, little girl."
A chorus of "Shut up, Buzz." echoed off the fuselage.
I gotta stop trying for nonchalance. "Okay, I'm cool. But I don't see why you brought me along. There's no murder to investigate, and I'll just be in the way."
Evo hung up the phone he and said, "That's where you are wrong, my friend. That was the second in command at Site 151. They just found the foreman, Ron Hansen, with his throat slit and his office ransacked."
22
Evo made several phone calls after that and I began to compile notes from the information he'd gathered from his visit to Site 151. The rest of the trip sped by as we kept busy formulating plans of action.
Upon arrival, we were rushed through customs, hesitating only long enough to get our passports stamped. "Nunez's money at work," Sam whispered snidely.
"Whatever greases our way through this mess, I'll take it," I replied.
"Me too." Fred puffed as we pushed and shoved our way toward the exit and a waiting Limo.
Once inside, we all let out our collective breaths. Evo was the first to recover and said, "It's only a ten minute drive to my place, and Armand," he gestured toward the driver, "Will then take you guys to Sam's. I'll meet you there in the morning."
Sam sighed. "I don't know why you won't just come with us, Evo. I have plenty of room, and it will keep us together. You're already packed."
Evo held up his hands. "Okay, okay, I don't want to argue. Just let me go up and pick up my messages, and I'll come with you." Sam gave him a smug smile, and Evo shook his head.
Armand pulled up to the curb in front of Evo's apartment complex and Sam jumped out with him.
"Hey," he said when Fred piled out after Sam. "I thought you were going to wait down here for me."
"Uh, I want to see where you live," Fred said.
"I'm curious, too. I want to see the royal palace," Sam admitted.
I climbed out of the limo. "I guess I'm coming, too." I bent to the window. Tongue-in-cheek I said, "Hey, Armand, want to come see the rich guy's bachelor pad with us?"
I about dropped my teeth when Armand answered in English, "No thanks, pretty mama; I be chillin' right here with Bob Marley." He plugged headphones into his ears and as the window rose, I saw him close his eyes and bob his head to the music.
I ran to catch up with the others, and we took the glass elevator to the top floor. I opened my mouth to comment on Evo's digs and the words froze in my throat. The doors slowly opened upon the chaotic disaster which used to be Evo's apartment. Other than a collective indrawn breath, the room was eerily silent.
Sam broke the quiet as she laid a hand on Evo's arm. "Oh, my God, Evo. What could have happened?"
"Get Tony on the phone!" Evo went directly to the bedroom safe. The door hung off its hinges and black powder outlined the blast area. Evo rifled through a drawer and came out with a small flashlight. Shining a strange blue light into the empty safe Evo sighed and said, "They didn't get anything."
"What do you mean they didn't get anything? The safe is empty."
"Ah, but that wasn't the real safe. This is the safe where I keep my expired credit cards and money. I also have a couple of knock-off Rolexes, a few warranties for stuff that doesn't belong to me, and a deed to a piece of property under a garbage dump. This safe is for someone who wants to rob me. It looks like the real thing, and by the time they realize there must be more, the cops are crawling all over. Watch and learn ladies; watch and learn…"
Evo shined the blue light into the safe again and I saw a patch of lighter blue on the bottom toward the rear. Evo ripped a strip of something like dull duct tape off the bottom of the safe. He then pulled a card from his pocket and ran it over the uncovered space. We heard a click and a panel dropped out of the wall next to the closet.
Evo shifted so he stood in front of the panel, and pressed his thumb on the pad. A sexy female voice said, "Hello, Dr. Castillo, you're home."
Evo smiled and said, "Hello Ava, it's been too long."
The sexy disembodied voice laughed softly and the panel rose by itself and once again blended in with the woodwork. Suddenly, the closet doorjamb moved toward us and the panel across the back wall swung open. A large steel door lies before us. Evo stepped up to the door and pressed a button. A keypad slid out and he punched in several letters. He then grabbed the wheel on the front of the safe and turned it to the right. With a whoosh of air the huge door swung open.
Evo turned to us wearing a large smile which melted when he saw us staring at him, dumbfounded. "What's wrong?"
I recovered long enough to point at the safe and say, "Uh, er…I uh, what the hell is that, Fort Knox?"
"No, just some things I don't want stolen."
"Holy cow," Fred said as we all stepped inside. "Is all this yours?"
"Yes, except the family jewels, they belong to Tony's future wife."
"Tony's wife?"
"Yes, it does not look as if I will marry, so they will go to the next in line."
Being the diplomat I am, I said, "Geez, Evo, you should be embarrassed to be this wealthy. What do you spend it on–other than this place and a new truck in America?"
"Well, this place is paid for, as I own the building, and the rest, I don't get much chance to spend anything because all I do is work."
"Well you're buying lunch tomorrow, that's for sure." We all laughed and it broke the ice. Evo closed up, the police were called, and Evo ended up spending the evening with us anyway. We hung out until the last cop left and the alarm system was repaired. Evo called in some sort of clean-up
company to take care of the apartment, and we finally had Armand dive us to Sam's.
It was a tired and subdued group that gathered at Sam's kitchen table after we settled in.
Sam carried mugs of coffee to the table and began the conversation. "Evo, why would someone ransack your home and blow up your safe? What could they possibly expect to find?"
"I've been thinking about nothing else the entire evening." He sipped from his mug. "The police said someone ransacked Ron Hansen's office as well. I can't help thinking the two are linked. The timing is just too coincidental."
I spoke up. "Evo, where are your notes from the interview with Hansen?"
Evo looked at me like I was from Mars. "Notes?"
"Yes, notes, reports, audio tapes–whatever you had at the interview. I've been racking my brain and that interview is the only thing you and Ron had in common other than a trashed place. I think the killers were looking for those notes or information from the interview."
"Then why didn't they trash my–"
"Office," we said together. Evo grabbed the phone and called the police again. He told them he had cause to believe someone might try to break into his office.
He hung up the phone. "I gotta go."
"Not without me," I said as I grabbed my jacket.
"Not without me either," echoed Fred.
Sam came running from the direction of the bathroom. "I'm coming too, Castillo!"
Evo's cell rang and he barked a hello into it. He said thanks and hung it up. "Armand heard on his police scanner that they were going to my office and he is headed back here to get us right now." We all grabbed our jackets and Sam turned off the coffee. She locked the front door and Armand came screeching to a halt in front of the house.
"How sweet," Fred said.
Evo sighed. "It's his job, Fred."
"I still think it's sweet."
"I'll tell Armand you said that."
"No, I–"
The passenger window rolled down and he said, "Ready to go?"
