by Janet Leigh
“What do you think we should do?” I asked.
“Dance,” Marco replied. We dumped our champagne glasses on a passing tray, and he swung me out onto the dance floor. I tried to protest, because I wasn’t a very good dancer. The music was kind of a slow swing, which I managed without falling down.
“You are a good dancer,” I said to Marco.
“My mother made me take lessons, which have turned out to my advantage since I am always attending some kind of charity function.” I spotted Trish and saw Marco’s mom make an “oh well” sort of gesture, and they grabbed some champagne and headed off toward the patio.
He spun me around again. “So, what is the gift you have that no one can talk about?” I asked off the cuff.
“Well…” He smiled. “I’m not supposed to tell you, but I can show you.” He waved his hand in the air not unlike he was performing a Jedi mind trick, and the entire room seem to slow down like a warped record. Time had slowed for everyone except for him and me. Marco spun me in tight. Then everyone clicked back up to speed. The effect was only for a few seconds, and no one in the room seemed to notice. Well, almost no one. Caiyan tapped Marco on the shoulder.
“Mind if I cut in, lad?”
“Be my guest; my work here is done. Later, Jen.” And Marco was gone, leaving me with the Scottish Don Juan. The music slowed, and Caiyan pulled me in tight. I pushed against him, trying to put a little distance between us.
“Marco should naugh have done that—the Mafusos could have been in the room,” he said, drawing me to him.
“But they weren’t, so no harm done.” I pushed back away.
“Mmmm,” was Caiyan’s response as he pulled me to him and nuzzled my neck. He smelled really good, and the mask was putting my hormones in overdrive.
“I thought we were supposed to keep a distance from one another?”
“Aye, but Mahlia has already spotted me, and your display with the ring bearer certainly caught her attention.”
“That wasn’t my fault. He lost the ring, for Pete’s sake.”
“The boy’s name is Francisco, nephew of the groom.” Caiyan smirked at me.
“Humph,” was all I could muster as a response.
As we danced, Caiyan told me we needed to split up and look around. I was to stay on this level, because it would be easier to explain that I was a lost guest. He would go upstairs and check things out. When the music ended, we strolled outside, and he left me on the patio overlooking the gardens. I gave him a minute, then I wandered back inside, keeping a lookout for family members. The bride and groom were making their entrance, so it was the perfect time to duck out.
I turned around, and Julia Child offered me an hors d’oeuvre. I politely refused and asked where the ladies room was located.
“Down the hall on the right,” Julia replied in a very deep voice. I wondered if maybe he knew Ace.
I meandered in the direction he pointed, bypassed the bathroom, and slipped into the room at the end of the hall. I found myself in a large study. Floor-to-ceiling mahogany bookshelves lined the walls to my right. To my left were wood-paneled walls with strategically placed artwork of dogs hunting a fox. An enormous floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace encompassed the far wall. I was in awe. A fire burned steadily in the hearth. The Mafuso family crest was engraved in a stone block about halfway up the fireplace. A thick piece of wood formed the mantel, which held a large black marble urn and two brass candlesticks. I suddenly had a vision from the old Clue game…She was killed in the study with the candlestick by Professor Plum…
“Jen, where are you?” Jake’s voice jarred me out of my hallucination.
I pressed my brooch. “I’m in the study.”
“Tell me what you see.”
A huge mahogany desk hovered in the middle of the room. A computer, a cordless phone, a tray filled with papers, and an expensive marble pencil holder were neatly placed on the desk. I relayed this to Jake.
“Look through the desk and tell me what you find.”
I thumbed through the papers on the desk. Nothing exciting—a few bills, a racing program, and a couple of purchase orders. I powered up the computer, but there was a password. I shut down the computer and dug through the drawers. Nothing. No secret files. No hidden panels with ancient scrolls, and definitely no Gertie. I told Jake I would get back to him and listened as Caiyan reported in. He was probing around the second floor.
A spiral staircase snaked up to the right of the stone fireplace. I went up, and it led to a library with a comfortable couch and chair. There were three bookcases, all containing very old books.
The door to the study opened, and I heard footsteps below. I peeked over the banister and saw Mortas, Mahlia, and the Mafuso elder.
“I tell you, it’s the other one,” Mahlia said with fisted hands.
“Calm down, Mahlia,” said Mortas. “You knew they would come here looking for the transporter.”
“She is not the one,” Mahlia said. “We have tried several times, and she refuses to call the vessel. The key does not light up on her neck.”
“Just because the key does not glow does not mean she is not the one. Powers are deceptive. We still do not know all that exist.”
The old man crossed the room to the fireplace and turned one of the candlesticks. The fire extinguished, and the interior wall of the fireplace opened. The three of them entered. I leaned over to get a better look. Mahlia, the last to walk through the fireplace, turned quickly, looking up in my direction. I pulled back, hoping she didn’t see me. She frowned, then told the others she would be down momentarily. I heard her cross the room and begin climbing the stairs.
Panic. Mahlia was coming after me. I had to tell Caiyan about the secret room. I knew that’s where they were holding Gertie, but I was afraid Mahlia would hear me if I spoke into my brooch.
I scanned my surroundings. The three shelves ran horizontally to the back of the room. I scurried behind the last row of shelves. Luck was with me: there was a door to the right of the last bookshelf, which I hastily went through, trying to be as quiet as possible. I found myself in a long hallway. There were two rooms to the right. I chose one and ducked inside.
It was a small den. A leather sofa was situated in front of several flat-screen TVs. I looked around—nowhere to hide in here. The den connected to a bedroom that had a balcony overlooking the Olympic-sized pool. Several guests had ambled out and were indulging in before-dinner drinks around the pool. I checked the dresser. Keys, valet stub from the 40/40 Club, and spare change were in an oval metal dish. Nothing. I went into the bathroom and snooped in the closet, which was as big as my house, and found several men’s suits. I heard a shuffle outside and squeezed back between Armani and Ralph Lauren. Damn. Mahlia had found me.
Jake wanted to know my location. I pressed the microphone and whispered for him to hang on. I recited my mantra: “I’m spunky and I’m fierce and I’m smarter than most men. Bad guys run and hide ‘cause here comes SuperJen.”
The door to the bathroom opened, and footsteps crossed the marble floor. I heard the closet doors open, and someone entered the closet. I got ready to attack if necessary. I was about to jump out and surprise Satan’s bitch when two hands reached in and parted the suits in one quick swoop.
Caiyan was laughing. I was shaking. He reached up and removed my hand, which had been pressed against my brooch since Jake had asked my location. Upon its release, I heard laughter from various voices.
Caiyan helped me out of the closet. “SuperJen, naugh bad. I thought of you more as Sexy Jen, but I’ll call you whatever you like, yeah?”
“Oh, shut up. It’s just a rhyme I made up as a kid.” I pressed my brooch. “If y’all would kindly quit giggling like schoolgirls, I’ll tell you where they are keeping Gertie.”
Everyone gave me his undivided attention, and I explained about the fireplace. Caiyan agreed it was worth checking out. Jake decided we should go back to the wedding and wait for Mortas and Mahlia to turn up, then we
could make our move.
We returned to the reception just in time to hear the inebriated groom serenading the bride in sloppy Italian. Most of the guests had helped themselves to the monstrous buffet and were seated at the round tables eating and listening to the groom belt out “That’s Amore.”
Caiyan and I entered separately to avoid any suspicions. I searched the room for Marco. He was sitting at a table with his family, absent-mindedly twisting the olive in his martini. I didn’t see Mahlia or Mortas, so I grabbed a passing glass of champagne from one of the servers and plopped down next to him.
“No luck?” he asked, his blue eyes driving into me like an ice pick.
“Not yet. Do you know where Mortas is?”
“Why?”
“I thought you didn’t care?” I raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t care, and no, I haven’t seen him,” Marco said stubbornly.
The music stopped and the toasts were beginning. Mahlia and Mortas appeared as if by magic. Mahlia returned to her seat at the head table, and Mortas sat at a table with his grandfather, Gian-Carlo.
This was our opportunity; they were all present and accounted for.
Caiyan buzzed in and said he was going in.
“I’m coming too,” I said.
Five simultaneous nos sounded in my ear.
“What’s with you guys? Caiyan may need me. What if there are armed men down there?”
“Look, Jen,” came Brodie’s voice. “Caiyan needs someone to tell him if the Mafusos leave the reception. You are the only one there with a mic.”
I felt like this was a dig at Marco, but I agreed. I explained to Caiyan how to turn the candlestick and enter the fireplace.
“Who are you talking to?” Angel looked at me with big eyes.
I had forgotten there were other people sitting at my table. Marco was distracting his mother with conversation about her charity work, and Angel was waiting for an answer.
“Um, sometimes I just talk to myself,” I stuttered.
“Oh, my cousin Griselda does that, and then she takes a pill.”
Fantastic, now Angel thinks I’m schizophrenic.
Mahlia was scanning the room, possibly looking for me. I still wasn’t sure if she had positively ID’d me yet. I pretended not to notice her and leaned into Marco. He raised his eyebrows at me.
“Sorry, I need a cover.” I bent over and kissed him. I’m not sure if I really needed to use him for cover or if I was curious about our connection. But I swear there was a sizzle when our lips met. He pulled me into him, and the temperature started to rise. Our tongues met and began an ancient exploration of mouth and soul. He ran his hand up my leg and under my dress. Whoa. I immediately pulled back, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a sly grin.
Marco’s mother and sister both sat staring at us with open mouths. My face turned red, and I excused myself to go to the ladies’ room. I hoped Mahlia had disregarded me as one of Marco’s bimbo girlfriends. She was engaged in conversation with the maid of honor as I left the room. When I made it to the restroom, there was a plump lady dressed as Oprah washing her hands. Maybe it was Oprah; I didn’t have time to ponder the meeting. I put on some lipstick and fluffed my blond wig until she left, then I checked under the stall for feet. Empty.
I ducked in a stall and asked for status. Caiyan was not answering and did not report in. I was listening to Jake trying to reach Caiyan, and my heart was beating like a hummingbird on crack. Why wasn’t Caiyan answering? I told myself to take a few deep breaths, and I mentally recited my mantra just for good measure. Jake told me to go back to Marco and stay put and that Brodie and Ace were coming in over the east wall. Which way was east? My sense of direction sucked. Caiyan needed my help, but Jake told me to stay put. As I sat on the toilet contemplating my choices, I heard the bathroom door open and a tapping of heels on the marble floor. I waited until the guest went into the stall next to me, just in case it was one of the few people who could identfy me. I returned to the ballroom. Marco was still seated at the table, and he was still grinning.
I sat down and asked, “Where are your mom and sister?”
“They went to watch the bride and groom cut the cake.” He pointed in the direction of a large crowd of people. I remembered seeing the five-tiered wedding cake when we had arrived earlier.
The crowd was gathered around the cake, so the only thing I could see was the top tier complete with a hand painted bride and groom that Marco’s mom had told me earlier was an exact replica of the happy couple. This was my opportunity to go check on Caiyan. The wedding party was all present and accounted for; I just needed a little help with the surveillance.
“I know you don’t want to be involved, but could you please take my brooch and earpiece and tell them if the Mafusos leave this room?”
“What do I get if I do?” He smiled an evil smile.
Jeez. Men, they are so predictable. “Fine. I can offer second base, but that’s it.”
“Jen, I’m not in grade school. I practically had second base at the table. Go do what you need to do; I’ll watch for you.”
“Thanks.” I gave him a quick, steaming peck on the cheek as he inserted the small earpiece into his right ear and tucked my microphone brooch in his pocket.
I passed the restroom and returned to the study. As I was about to turn the candlestick, I realized I did not have a weapon. Searching the room, I could only come up with a silver letter opener with a black marble handle. Better than nothing. I grasped the letter opener tightly in my hand, then turned the candlestick. The fire extinguished as before, and the wall slid open into blackness.
I crossed over the secret threshold. The wall slid closed immediately, leaving me in the pitch black. Damn, why couldn’t I have a Maglite for a weapon? At least I could use the light. I inched along the wall, feeling my way with my right hand and holding on securely to my poor excuse for a weapon. When I returned to Gitmo, I would make sure Jake taught me how to use a gun. Maybe not a gun, maybe a knife…no, maybe some nunchakus—what was I, the Karate Kid? I stood there contemplating which weapon I would most likely be able to use in a battle. My palms were sweaty, and my stomach felt queasy.
I slowly moved forward, putting one foot in front of the other. The wall changed from a solid surface to what felt like stone or rock. The air became cool, making goose bumps stand up on my arms. On my next step, I couldn’t find the floor. I felt around with the toe of my shoe and I realized I was at the top of a staircase. Jeez, I can’t believe they have all this money, and they didn’t install lights. I eased down each step until I reached the bottom.
As I made the turn at the base of the stairs, I ran into a solid object coming up fast. Something hard and male connected with me, then I tumbled backward. As I flailed my arms to save myself, my left hand, holding the letter opener, hit flesh. I heard a curse that wasn’t mine. As I went down, I grabbed out with my free hand and found a fistful of material, then I heard a rip and another curse, and the male shape fell on top of me.
I was winded, and my head was ringing from hitting the stair tread. Even stunned in the dark, I recognized the cool, clean scent of Caiyan.
“Bloody hell, Jen, are you hurt?”
A certain area of Caiyan was pressed very intimately between my legs and seemed to be getting heavier.
“Get off me,” I finally managed to say.
He moved to the side and popped on a small flashlight. He was shining it at me, checking to see if I had any injuries, but I could see from the glow that I had torn his shirt, and he had a gash on the side of his neck. He had removed his mask.
My annoyance dissolved instantly into concern. “Oh my God, did I do that?” I asked, peeling the remains of his shirt away from his neck and leaving his key exposed.
“Aye, lassie, I wouldnae want to get in a brawl with ye, now would I?”
His leg was still intertwined with mine, and his movement was starting to send signals to parts of my body I didn’t want throbbing. I pulled out f
rom under him and tried to stop the bleeding on his neck with the remnants of his shirt.
“We are in some kind of cave under the house. I was coming back up because my mic stopped working down here.” He shined the small light toward my chest. “Jen, where is your mic?”
“I left it with Marco so he could tell us if the Mafusos left the reception. I thought you had been captured.”
“So you were worried aboot me then, yeah?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I am worried about Gertie.”
“Let’s go…SuperJen.” He helped me to my feet, and we made our way down a long passage. There was a ninety-degree turn, and we saw light reflecting off the walls. Caiyan extinguished his flashlight, and we peeked around the corner. One of the Mafusos’ henchmen sat smoking a cigarette on a stool outside a door.
Caiyan looked at me and whispered, “Give me your ring.” He was referring to the big, fake diamond ring Ace had bought for the Marilyn Monroe costume. Ace had said when the gig was done, I could keep it, since I was having ring envy.
“No, Ace gave it to me.”
“Dinnae be disagreeable, sweetheart—I need to distract him.”
“Fine,” I said, pulling the pretty ring off my finger. “I’m not your sweetheart, and why are you always taking my stuff?”
“Cripes,” Caiyan said, then tossed my ring down the hall. “Act like you’re tipsy when he comes to investigate, yeah?”
The man tossed his smoke aside and walked down the hall toward us. “Who’s there?” he questioned sternly.
Caiyan looked me up and down and then reached up and pulled the front of my dress lower, making my cleavage pop out the top. I frowned, then spun around just in time to stumble forward and say, “Oopsy.” I put my hand over my mouth and giggled.
The man pointed a gun at me and said, “What the fu—?”
“Uh, uh, uh.” I shook my finger at him and slurred, “Or I will habe to wash your mouth out wuth soop.”
He lowered his gun. “Lady, you’re loaded. How did you get all the way down here?”
