“Why didn’t you give him your name?” asked Z’ev.
“Her,” corrected Nikki. “And I have enough women yelling at me during the day. I refuse to give my name to one at night just so she can yell at me on my phone.”
“You don’t think she had caller id?”
“It went through a switch board. I don’t think it’ll be that easy.”
“Aren’t you worried about him?”
“Who, Donny?” Nikki scoffed. “He can take care of himself. Besides, he seemed fine.” She wanted to say that she’d get Jane to run a check on Monday when she went into work, but didn’t.
“So where do you know Donny from?” asked Z’ev, changing the subject.
“We went to school together in Kaniksu Falls and his mom used to babysit me.”
“Kaniksu Falls? I thought you went to school in Seattle? Where’s Kaniksu Falls?”
“It’s a postage stamp of a logging town in Washington, About as far north as you can get without being in Canada, and as far East as you can get without being in Idaho. My grandparents live—lived there. Now it’s just my grandma. Mom and Dad moved in with them before I was born. So I went to elementary school there, spent most of my summers with Dad’s mom in Canada. Donny’s mom used to baby-sit us; we were the Three Musketeers. Then, in sixth grade, when my dad split, Mom and I moved to Seattle.”
“Who was the third?”
“What?”
“You said three musketeers. That usually implies three.”
Nikki kicked herself for her slip up. All she had to do was stick to Donny, but no, she had to go mention the three of them.
“Oh. Uh, our friend Jackson. We kind of ran around like wild monkey-children.” Nikki chuckled a little, remembering their eight-year-old selves.
“Jackson? Is that the guy Donny asked about? Guy you used to go out with?”
“Uh, yeah, we dated for about a second and a half. I think that’s the restaurant Jenny recommended,” said Nikki pointing out the window.
“In Junior High?” Z’ev sounded skeptical.
“No, his family moved to Seattle when we were in high school. We went out for a bit during senior year. Jenny said that restaurant was really good. We should try it sometime.”
“But you broke up?”
“Yeah, we did.” Nikki looked out the window. She didn’t want to talk about Jackson. She didn’t want to think about Jackson. For years now, she had been avoiding the topic in her head the way a person with a cavity will avoid chewing on that side. Why did he have to bring this up?
“It was just one of those things, you know? Stupid high school boyfriends.” That hurt a little to say, but she could see that Z’ev believed it and that was what mattered. “I haven’t seen him since college.” That at least was true.
“That’s too bad,” said Z’ev and Nikki glanced over at him nervously, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “You hate to lose touch with someone you grew up with over something like that.”
“Yeah,” agreed Nikki. “I guess I should have asked Donny how he was or something.” She waited a beat. “Oh well, too late,” she said cheerfully and Z’ev laughed again.
“Nice to know you’re not bitter.”
“No, really, I’m not,” denied Nikki. “It’s just been so long, you know? Why go there? What would we have to say to each other?”
“Yeah, I guess,” he agreed with a shrug.
“Anyway, why do you care about some old boyfriend? You’re not suspicious I’ve been secretly corresponding with Jackson for nine years, are you?”
“No, I’m just impressed that once again your entire history is one big grey area.”
“What do you mean?” asked Nikki, startled.
“Well, you’re Canadian, but not.”
“I was born in Canada and my father’s Canadian.”
“You’re from Seattle, but not.”
“I lived in Seattle from high school on, and everyone knows where Seattle is. It’s easier to say Seattle.”
“You work for a make-up company, but you don’t sell make-up.”
“The Carrie Mae Foundation does a lot of good work.”
“I’m not saying there aren’t good reasons. I’m saying, is anything ever an absolute with you?” He spoke with a smile, but Nikki sensed he was serious. He didn’t like surprises.
“My life is… complex.” It was the best explanation she could come with.
“Baby, I work for the CIA and my life is less complex,” he said dryly. “And with your tendency to get into gun battles and what-not, forgive me if I’m suspicious.”
“There’s nothing to be suspicious of,” said Nikki, firmly.
He parked the car in her slot and turned off the engine. “Yeah,” he said pausing, hand still on the ignition. “Maybe.” He turned his head and smiled at her, his sleepy brown eyes twinkling and his mouth curving into the smile that made her heart do back-flips. “Now about those shoes…”
July III
Breakfast
Nikki’s eyelids popped open as if they were on springs. California sunshine filtered through the shades, dragging her from dreams about Kaniksu Falls. The image of her grandparent’s farm still floated before her eyes. She rolled over to check the time and realized Z’ev was in the way. Sitting up with a smile, she leaned over to kiss him awake, but hesitated when she saw the clock. The red LED display claimed it was 6:45. Nikki yawned and stretched. It was too early to be awake on a Sunday.
Thinking of home reminded her of Donny, and she frowned as she went into the bathroom. Last night, she’d been certain that Donny could handle whatever came up, but this morning it seemed worrisome that he was so far away from any back up or support. Spitting out toothpaste, she came to a decision. If Donny was in trouble, it wasn’t going to wait until Monday.
Nikki got dressed quietly and slipped out of the apartment, pausing to leave Z’ev a note that included a whole string of x’s and o’s. She never knew when he was going to be called into work, so she figured it was important to make sure all written communications included a quantity of hugs and kisses.
Gliding into LA proper with the top down on the sky-blue Chevy Impala, Nikki enjoyed the sunny Sunday morning and lack of traffic. She thought again about selling the car. It was a gas-guzzler, had a turning radius of a city block, and still smelled faintly of Val’s cigarettes and perfume. It was damaging, old-fashioned, and unnecessarily flashy. Basically, it was the car version of Valerie Robinson. But she loved that Z’ev had laughed out loud when he’d seen it for the first time and then wanted to drive. She loved that she got nods from the homeboys when she was out. To be perfectly honest, she loved the car. Nikki cranked the radio loud enough to be heard over the rushing wind and put her foot down on the gas.
“I’m just not ready to let you go,” said Nikki and patted the dash, so she could pretend she was talking to the car.
Nikki pulled up in front of a towering, glass-faced office building that was the west-coast headquarters of the Carrie Mae Foundation, and then turned down into the parking garage underneath the building. Even on a Sunday morning, there were a few cars in the parking garage but Nikki recognized Rachel White’s new, red, VW bug with the Ben Hur style rims. Rachel ran the research and development department, more commonly known as Wonderland, in the basement of Carrie Mae. Nikki made a mental note to pop down and thank her for the acetylene torch / hairspray can. It had worked really well in the field.
Nikki walked into the front lobby and flashed her ID badge at the security guard, who smiled and waved in recognition. She walked past the honor wall. Discreet brass plaques with the names of fallen agents were stacked in an even grid from the floor to mid-way up the wall. As usual, Nikki reached out and touched Val’s plaque. She’d accrued a lot of debt when she’d asked to have Val’s name put on the wall, but she didn’t think that twenty years of service, of being the biggest badass in the company, should be wiped out by a couple of months of stupid decisions. She’d learned a few things
about Val when she’d taken possession of the car—things she hadn’t told anyone—and so she touched the plaque to remind herself not be that stupid and to strive to be that great. And to make sure no one removed the plaque.
Nikki was reaching for the elevator button when she heard the traditional ding and the elevator doors opened. Rachel and Jane were standing in the elevator laughing. They both had the rumpled, slightly bleary look of people who’d been up all night, but they were laughing hysterically.
“Nikki!” exclaimed Jane. “Redhead!” That sent Rachel into a fresh gust of laughter.
“Yes,” agreed Nikki, trying to fathom what was so funny. “I’ve been that way for awhile now.” Jane giggled again, but Rachel made an effort to pull herself together.
“Sorry, Nikki, I think,” Rachel paused to chuckle at Jane’s laughter. “I think,” she continued, “that we may have gotten a bit of laughing gas off Experiment-217. What are you doing here on a Sunday?”
“I was about to ask you guys the same thing,” said Nikki, stepping into the elevator. “But I’m glad you are. I need to find someone, fast.” Nikki pushed the button for the seventh floor and Jane groaned.
“No, Nikki. We’ve just finished and were going out to breakfast,” wailed Jane.
“It’ll only take a minute,” soothed Nikki. Jane crossed her arms and leaned dejectedly against the elevator wall.
“It had better be only a minute,” she muttered. “I’m hungry.”
“Well, I haven’t had breakfast yet either,” said Nikki. “And besides, I’ve got Z’ev at home. I can’t take too long.”
“Yeah?” said Rachel perking up. “You’re still seeing Mr. CIA?”
Nikki nodded.
“You gonna tell him about Carrie Mae?”
“She can’t!” said Jane, shocked. “She wouldn’t! You won’t, will you?”
Nikki shook her head.
“You can’t trust boys. Remember that.”
Nikki chuckled. “You sound like my mother.”
“Well,” interjected Rachel, “then they’re both paranoid. It’s the CIA part of him I’d be worrying about.”
“Can we keep it down?” asked Nikki, looking pained. “Darla hasn’t figured out I’m dating a CIA agent yet, and I’m not really looking to explain it to her, if you know what I mean.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I hear you. Fortunately, Miss Utah isn’t in the building. I swear, I cannot wait for Mrs. Merrivel to get back. The girls down in research were thinking about sending Mr. Merrivel a get-well-soon card, but I was wondering if maybe we couldn’t maybe come up with something a little more useful. He had heart surgery, right? Was it a pacemaker thing? We could probably come up with a really great pacemaker if I had the girls think about it seriously.”
“Mrs. Merrivel will be back when Mr. Merrivel gets better—and no, you cannot put an experimental pacemaker in his chest.” Nikki tried to sound calm. Sometimes Rachel was a little too certain that her gadgets were awesome. “Meanwhile, can you give Darla a chance? She’s actually got some good ideas.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “All of her ideas seem to involve cutting my budget.”
“If all of Darla’s ideas are so great, why are you sneaking into the building for illicit use of resources,” said Jane. “You wouldn’t have to do that with Mrs. M.”
“I’ve had several years to build up a rapport with Mrs. M,” said Nikki. “I want to work with Darla, but I also want to save lives. So, we’ll just not mention this little excursion, OK?”
Jane laughed, as the elevator slowed to a halt. “OK. So, who are we trying to find?”
“An old friend of mine I bumped into last night,” answered Nikki, reaching for the emergency phone.
“Speak roughly to your little boy, and beat him when he sneezes,” said Nikki into the red phone and she heard the faint click that told her that the password was being processed. The weekly passwords were always quotes from Alice in Wonderland and Nikki’s copy of Alice had begun to look rather well-thumbed as she had taken on the habit of looking up the quotes.
“I think he’s in trouble,” Nikki continued, returning to her conversation with Jane.
As they navigated the maze of cubicles toward Nikki’s desk, Nikki told Jane and Rachel about her encounter with Donny.
“Hmm,” said Jane, seating herself at Nikki’s desk and logging on to the computer. “Give me a second.” Jane’s fingers flew across the keyboard and Rachel lounged in the cubicle entrance, watching with interest.
“Wow,” said Jane, frowning at the computer screen, “Tacoma’s police computer system is complete crap. I don’t know why police departments insist on hiring former officers in their tech departments. Give me a minute while I break down this firewall.” Jane typed a bit more, her eyebrows going up in a sharp “V” of concentration.
“OK, it should be printing out now,” said Jane, hitting the enter button. Rachel walked away and then came out with a printout with Donny’s picture on it.
“He looks nice,” said Rachel, looking at the picture. Nikki leaned over Rachel’s shoulder and read the paper. Donny did look nice. His picture was a crisp, clean-cut, by the book, police department photo.
“He’s investigating someone named Emmanuel Ruiz,” said Nikki, reading from the print out, and Jane nodded.
“I’m looking him up now,” said Jane, pointing at the screen. “Drug runner. I-5 corridor. Not a nice man.”
“Current address?” asked Nikki.
“Last known was here in LA, but it says it’s no longer active,” said Jane and Nikki sighed in frustration.
“Donny probably is fine, but I’d feel better if I could go and ask him myself. You know?”
“Well,” said Jane, “do you want me to leave this on the watch list for the next shift? They can call you if anything pops up on the grid or if they get anything on the police scanners. It’s probably a misuse of company resources, but I doubt Darla will notice.” Jane typed in a work order and emailed it. “So,” said Jane, slapping her hands together and rubbing them together. “Where we going for breakfast?”
“Some place that serves Bloody Marys,” said Rachel, leading the way back toward the elevator.
“I’m with you there,” answered Jane, “but I want pancakes too. How about you, Nikki?”
“Pancakes and alcohol - it’s working for me. There’s an IHOP around here somewhere, isn’t there? Or a Denny’s. They have a bar, right?”
“I think so, but wherever you want to go is fine, ‘cause I figure you’re buying.”
“I’m buying?” asked Nikki in mocking disbelief.
“You held up my breakfast for a whole twenty minutes,” said Jane. “And you made me work on a Sunday. You owe us.”
“Oh, fine.” Nikki shook her head as though the entire affair was a huge trial. “The things I do for my friends.” Just then, Nikki’s cell phone began to trumpet the William Tell Overture.
“High-ho, Silver, and away!” yelled Jane, as Nikki reached for her phone.
“It must be Z’ev,” said Rachel.
“How could you tell?” asked Nikki startled, pausing with her finger over the answer button.
“Nobody gets that moony over a Lone Ranger song if it isn’t their boyfriend,” Rachel said. And Nikki finished answering the phone with a chuckle in her voice.
“Hey!” she said cheerfully.
“Hey, yourself,” said Z’ev, and Nikki could hear the smile in his voice. “I thought you weren’t working this weekend.”
“I had a thought,” said Nikki. “And I couldn’t fall back asleep.”
He laughed. “A thought, huh? You couldn’t just write it down and wait till Monday?”
“Hey, I have to act on these things before they go away.”
“Well, how about having the thought of coming home for breakfast?”
“Oh. Breakfast.” Nikki looked guiltily at Rachel and Jane, who were maintaining carefully neutral expressions. “Um…”
“Um
…” repeated Z’ev.
“I kind of promised to buy Jane and Rachel pancakes. I kind of owe them for helping me out this morning.”
“I’ll make pancakes,” volunteered Z’ev. “Bring them over.”
“Really?” asked Nikki surprised. He usually wasn’t huge in the meet and greet department.
“Yeah, sure. I mean, I’ll have to put on pants, but for your friends I’ll make the effort.”
Nikki laughed out loud. “Well that makes me feel special,” she said. “But the real question is, do we have anything to make Bloody Marys out of?”
“Um…” she could hear him opening cupboards in the background and the slight unsuctioning sound as the fridge door opened. “We will if you stop at the store for the vegetables and tomato juice on the way home.”
“So, in fact that would be a no?” asked Nikki and gestured Rachel and Jane into the elevator as it arrived.
“Well, you have vodka, so I say it’s a yes.”
“Right, so I’ll stop at the store and be home in a bit.”
“Cool. I’ll start on the pancakes.”
“‘Kay. Bye.”
“Love you. Bye,” he answered and Nikki flipped her phone shut.
“New plan, ladies,” said Nikki. “Pancakes and Bloody Marys are going to be served at the International House of Nikki.”
“IHON?” asked Jane. “Doesn’t have the same ring.”
“You could go with IHOZ,” said Rachel.
“International House of Z’ev?” asked Jane. “Yeah, that does sound better.”
Nikki’s phone rang again and Nikki sighed as Patsy Cline’s Crazy filled the air.
“Isn’t that your mom’s new ring tone?” asked Jane. “Are you going to answer that?”
“Yes,” said Nikki reluctantly picking up the phone. “Hi mom.”
“Oh, you’re up,” said her mom, sounding surprised. “I was going to leave you a message.”
“Well, now you can tell me,” said Nikki trying not to be annoyed.
“Well, first of all,” her mom’s voice switched tones slightly veering into the planning voice, “we need to talk about the holidays.”
High-Caliber Concealer Page 2
