High-Caliber Concealer

by Bethany Maines

  “And if it comes to types, well, I’m not exactly your type either. I looked up your ex-girlfriend on Facebook. And let me tell you, next to her I look a little too compact and white.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have snooped on Facebook. I don’t ask you about your ex-boyfriends. Although, clearly,” Z’ev waved a hand at Jackson, “I should.”

  “I told you about Jackson,” protested Nikki.

  “You said he was one of those stupid high school boyfriends.”

  “Ouch,” said Donny. “That’s not right.”

  “It’s fair. I’m not too anxious to explain Nikki to an outsider,” answered Jackson with a shrug.

  “That right there,” yelled Z’ev, pointing at Jackson. “Why am I the outsider? I should be the insider. She’s my damn girlfriend!”

  “Yeah, man, I hear you. You want to know why the hell some stranger gets better from her than you?” asked Jackson, raising his beer to Z’ev.

  “Stop misquoting me,” snapped Nikki to Jackson. “Our situations are not at all the same.”

  “Ding,” quoted Jackson, with a glint in his eye. “You always did like to be the bell.”

  “It isn’t the same thing!” said Nikki, not sure who she was more mad at.

  “Yes, it is,” said Jackson. “You think I cheated? I had to, just to stay in the game. It’s hard work keeping up with you and you were always the one who called the shots. Turns out, he’s just a better fighter than I was. Don’t you think you owe him the honesty you wanted from me?”

  Nikki thought about punching him. She thought about punching Z’ev. She thought about dropkicking all of them out the door.

  “You, shut-up,” said Z’ev, pointing at Jackson. “You don’t get to be on my side.”

  “I am leaving,” Nikki announced. “I have had all the vacation fun I can handle for one night.”

  She stomped out of the boathouse and straight into Merv the Sheriff.

  “Well, if it isn’t little Nicole Lanier,” said the Sheriff, overly stressing the French accents in her name. “What kind of trouble are you up to now?”

  “Sheriff,” began Nikki, when the boathouse door burst open and Jane and Jenny both ran out.

  “Hiya, Sheriff,” said Jenny. “Nikki, let’s head up to the car, shall we?”

  Nikki stared at her friends, puzzled. Jackson, Donny, Ellen and Z’ev came out more slowly.

  “Hi, Sheriff,” said Donny. “Is there a problem?”

  “Well, Donald,” said the Sheriff. “That depends. Are there any more of you in there?”

  “No,” said Donny, shaking his head. “Just us. We’re on our way up to the house.”

  “You don’t mind if I take a look do you?”

  “Suit yourself,” said Donny with a shrug.

  “What happened to you two?” asked the sheriff, pointing at Jackson and Z’ev before opening the door to the boathouse and glancing around.

  “We tripped,” said Z’ev.

  “Jackson, I’ve not known you to be the clumsy type,” said the sheriff. He turned and looked at the group and smiled. Once again, the smile seemed delayed, as if the sheriff deployed it because it was the socially acceptable time to do so.

  “These things happen,” said Jackson.

  “Hmm. Well, we’ve had some complaints about people trespassing out in Cooter’s field. You all wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

  “We’ve been in the boathouse,” said Jackson. “What would we know?”

  “This is nonsense. I’m going to the car,” announced Nikki, still annoyed. She turned around and began the long walk up to the car. Jenny and Jane kept pace.

  “Well, that was a close one,” said Jane.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I thought for sure you were going to punch the sheriff.”

  “Why would I punch the sheriff?”

  “Well, you know,” Jane looked at Jenny, who shrugged. “Mispronouncing your name is kind of one of your pet peeves. And you were already annoyed.”

  “The sheriff is an ass hat,” said Nikki. “And I am annoyed. But unlike some people,” she turned slightly as Z’ev caught up, “I don’t have to punch everyone who annoys me.”

  “That sheriff is an ass hat,” said Z’ev. “Donny just tried to get a meeting with him to talk about some sort of drug smuggling thing and the sheriff totally blew him off. Donny’s a decorated narcotics officer and that sheriff treated us all like delinquent kids. And that’s putting it kindly. I think you’re right. There’s some really racist bastards around here.”

  “If it helps, he doesn’t seem to like me much either. I try not to worry about it. In fifty years everyone will be sort of beige,” said Nikki.

  “I don’t have fifty years,” said Z’ev. “I’m brown today.”

  “Well, what do you want me to do about it? Jane and Jenny won’t let me punch the sheriff.” Jenny and Jane were trying to distance themselves by walking further ahead.

  “I want you to acknowledge that it’s a problem,” said Z’ev his voice rising.

  Nikki turned around, sharply, prepared to make a very pithy point, and saw the sheriff coming up the path after them. “I don’t really think that now is the time for this,” she said and turned on her heel, walking more quickly toward the car.

  “It never is,” muttered Z’ev, but followed along.

  They returned to the house in awkward silence punctuated in intermittent spasms of Jenny and Ellen trying to make small talk. It was nearly ten o’clock when she parked the SUV.

  “My grandma’s usually in bed by ten,” said Nikki, looking at the living room windows that still glowed with light.

  “Maybe she and your mom are staying up chatting,” said Jane, which made Nikki laugh.

  But Peg was alone in the living room, wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe and reading a romance novel.

  “Oh, good, you’re back,” she said looking up. “What happened to you? You all look disheveled.”

  “We played tag,” said Nikki.

  “And the other team won?”

  “Um… I think it was a bit of a draw.”

  “All right then. There’s some cookies in the kitchen for everyone. Um, Nikki, I was hoping we could talk.”

  “You can talk to Nikki tomorrow, Mom,” said Nell, coming down the stairs. “I’m sure everyone’s tired.” Nell and Peg exchanged angry stares.

  Nikki thought about interrupting and simply saying that she knew about Jorge just to bring the whole farce to an end, but she discovered that she really was tired.

  “Mom’s right, Grandma. We can talk tomorrow. I want to go to bed.”

  “All right, dear,” said Peg, looking annoyed and also somewhat relieved. “Goodnight, everyone.”

  Peg went upstairs, followed by Nell, who appeared to be shepherding her along. Nikki tried to fathom why her mom was so uptight about Jorge, but understanding her mother had never been a particularly worthwhile endeavor, so she gave up.

  August XX

  Black Curtains

  Saturday

  With Z’ev still asleep, Nikki tiptoed down the hall to the first guest room, where Jane and Jenny were sharing a king-size bed. Although sharing was a rather generous term to describe the way Jenny was starfished across the bed.

  Jane cracked an eyelid as Nikki entered and unfurled from the tight little ball she had been forced into. She nodded to Nikki’s head jerk in the direction of the kitchen and reached for her robe and computer.

  “This Ylina situation is getting worse,” said Nikki when they were downstairs. “I don’t think we can afford to sit on it any longer.”

  “Well, we’ve been kind of busy,” protested Jane.

  “Yeah, busy with our vacation. Meanwhile, she’s actually in trouble. I ran into her last night at Cooter’s junkyard.”

  “Nikki! Did you cheat?”

  “Of course, I cheated. We were never going to win because you know how well Ellen sneaks up on people. So I had to at least catch Jackson
and he’s too damn fast.”

  “He is surprisingly quick,” agreed Jane.

  “He’s training for American Ninja Warrior.”

  “Ah. How is his salmon ladder?”

  “No clue, but his vertical jump is impressive.”

  “That’s good, but grip strength is key on that show.”

  “Can we focus on Ylina?” Nikki poured herself a glass of juice and Jane a cup of coffee from the pot her grandma had started. Jane began to root through the fridge looking for milk and creamer.

  “OK, but do you think we’re focusing on Ylina as a way to avoid your personal problems with Z’ev?”

  “Of course we are,” snapped Nikki. “That doesn’t mean she’s not actually in trouble.”

  “OK, but I want you to be aware that avoidance is not a healthy behavior.”

  “Jane, telling people about their unhealthy behaviors is not a healthy behavior.”

  “Jenny says that too. Fortunately, you all love me.” Jane was focused on her coffee and didn’t see Nikki’s affectionate smile.

  “That is true. And we couldn’t get along without you. You’re an extremely valuable asset and if you ever fell into the wrong hands I’d have to kill you.”

  “What? Wait a minute! Why couldn’t you just kill the wrong hands? Why me?”

  Nikki grinned. “That’s just how it’s done. Ask Z’ev. Can’t let intelligence like yours get utilized by the enemy.”

  “You make this stuff up,” said Jane, accusingly.

  “Generally, yes. Anyway, can you help me find Ylina? I think she’s staying somewhere in town within walking distance to the grocery store.”

  “Give me a second.”

  Jane began rapidly tapping on her computer and making thoughtful little clucking noises at her coffee.

  Ellen stumbled into the kitchen, looked accusingly at the pair of them, and went directly to the coffee maker.

  “What are we doing?” she demanded after a half cup.

  “Jane’s locating Ylina for me,” said Nikki. “Then I’m going to see her and drag her back here if I have to. I ran into her at the junkyard and she was talking some smack about how she was going to cash in her insurance policy. I don’t know what that means, but it can’t be good. I’m going to bring her here and sit on her until I can get Donny over to talk to her. I think he must be onto something if he was trying to get a meeting with the sheriff. Maybe he can convince her to turn on Milt, Pedro and the rest.”

  “It’s as good a plan as any,” said Ellen with a shrug. “And it has the advantage of not doing anything overly clandestine.”

  “Right!” said Nikki. “I happened to bump into her at a bar, I saw that she was in trouble, so of course, I called on my friend, the cop. It’s neat, it’s tidy, it’s mostly true.”

  “It doesn’t bring up the breaking and entering or the bar fight,” said Ellen, raising her mug.

  “Extraneous details,” said Nikki. “Why bring them up? It doesn’t matter.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out,” said Ellen.

  “Mmm,” said Jane.

  “I did have it worked out,” said Nikki. “Right up until Jane went ‘mmm.’”

  “What?” Jane looked up, confused.

  “You said, ‘mmm.’ That’s not a good sign.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “You say mmm when your little computer friend tells you something you don’t like.”

  “Do I? Oh. Sorry?”

  “We don’t mind that you say it,” said Nikki. “It just generally means bad news.”

  “It’s not bad news,” said Jane. “Not really. But it’s not great news. Ylina has been working for Crazy Cooter’s Junkyard as a secretary for three years. You know, I thought you were all being mean. I was going to suggest that maybe we could not use the crazy word just because he’s maybe a little outside the norm or maybe had some mental health issues, but it turns out that is actually the name on his business license.”

  “Yeah, it’s Crazy Cooter’s Junkyard,” said Nikki. “I don’t know why you always assume that we’re being racist, sexist, and anti-crazy people. He had ads on the radio when I was a kid. Trade your scrap metal for craaaaaazy good prices at Craaaaaazy Cooter’s, home of Car-Henge.”

  “Car-Henge?”

  “It was a Stonehenge made of Mini-Coopers. You know, because they’re British. I think he had to take it down though. A couple of them fell over, and replacement Coopers were hard to get.”

  Ellen and Jane exchanged glances. “That’s weird,” said Ellen at last.

  “Well, he’s crazy,” said Nikki. “I mean, it’s on the business license. He has a reputation to maintain.”

  “Still weird,” said Ellen. “Anyway, I guess Ylina working out at the junkyard could explain why she was there.”

  “Sort of,” said Nikki. “What else did you turn up, Jane?”

  “She’s been living at a place on Elm Street, but she stopped paying rent there three months ago. Which in and of itself doesn’t mean much, but she’s got a decent amount of money in the bank. That means she probably moved out and wherever she moved to she’s paying in cash. She’s got a four hundred dollar withdrawal on the first of the month for the last three months.”

  “Four hundred dollars!” exclaimed Ellen. “I wish I could find somewhere to live for that. In LA you have to pay four hundred to live under the freeway.”

  “Well, even here that’s not going to get you somewhere very nice,” said Nikki. “Why the move?”

  “I don’t know, but lots of other bills cease at about that same time. The cable got cancelled and hasn’t been renewed. No utilities bill. No Netflix. She never had a car payment, so it’s hard to tell if that’s changed. But her gas expenditure hasn’t increased—or at least her stops at the Pettit Gas Station have remained the same.”

  “What about other cash withdrawals?” asked Ellen.

  “Yes, her cash withdrawals have gone up. There’s what’s presumably rent on the first and then a couple hundred a week. By the end of the month she’s pulled out most of her paycheck.”

  “She’s been planning to run for awhile then,” said Nikki.

  “I’d say so,” said Ellen. “And she thinks whoever is going to be looking for her would have the ability to hack her bank account and trace her. She’s stockpiling cash.”

  “The question is, where is she staying now?” Nikki frowned. “Friends, relatives?”

  “A motel,” said Jane. “That’s my best guess. There’s one within walking distance to the grocery store. The website is in Spanish, so you’ll have to look at it for me. But I think it’s four hundred a month. It’s trying to attract temporary workers. It’s got a construction crew special. I think. My Spanish still isn’t that good.”

  “Can you hack them? See if Ylina is registered?”

  “Working on it,” said Jane, nodding.

  Nikki washed a few dishes from the night before while Ellen read the paper. It was wait on Jane time and it didn’t pay to rush the her. Jane made angry noises and tapped the computer screen more violently. Nikki and Ellen exchanged looks, but said nothing. Ellen got up and poured herself some cereal. Nikki made tea.

  “Oh, my God,” said Jane finally. “Worst hack ever.”

  “Really awesome security?” asked Ellen.

  “No, really shitty technology from like 1996. It’s so slow and glitchy. How do they even use this software? It’s heinous.” She poked angrily at her screen again.

  “Hitting the computer harder won’t make it go any faster,” said Ellen.

  “Are you sure? Because it feels like I could just—” Jane’s finger hit the screen in a staccato burst of fury. “Gah!” She threw the tablet on the table.

  “Room seventeen. Don’t ask me to go back in there. It was horrible.”

  Nikki laughed. “Thanks. I won’t. OK, I’m going to run out there before anybody gets up.”

  “Your grandma’s already up,” pointed out Jane. “I heard her head out
to the orchard hours ago.”

  “Yes, thank you. Before anyone else gets up and comes downstairs.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?” asked Ellen.

  “Mm, no. I don’t want to freak her out or feel ganged up on. I just need her to get in the car and come with me.”

  “And if she won’t get in the car?” asked Ellen.

  “I’ll knock her out and put her in the car. Problem solved.” Nikki put down her juice and looked around for her keys and shoes. She thought longingly of her gun, but it was stashed in the bottom of her bag where Z’ev wouldn’t see it.

  “OK, wish me luck,” she said collecting her purse and sliding into her running shoes.

  “Good luck!” said Jane, rebounding back to her normal cheery self.

  Nikki started up the Impala and was about to pull away from the house when the passenger side door opened and her mother landed in the seat.

  “Oh good, I caught you,” she said smiling. “Ellen said you were going into town. I want to stop at the grocery store.”

  “I’m not really, uh ... I was going to pop in on a friend,” said Nikki.

  “That’s fine. I can wait in the car.”

  “Uh.” Nikki thought about aborting the mission. Then she thought about the scared look on Ylina’s face the night before. “OK, we can make that work.”

  “Mm, it smells like Chanel in here. Did you start wearing Chanel? I thought you hated Chanel. Didn’t you say it smelled like dead flowers?”

  “It is Chanel,” said Nikki. “The car used to belong to my old partner, Val. I think she spilled a bottle in here one time. The scent comes out every time I warm up the car.”

  “Your old partner? You sound like a cop. Do project managers really have partners?”

  “Can you open the gate, Mom?” Nikki stopped the car, idling it in front of the gate to the road. Nell looked annoyed. Farm etiquette dictated that the passenger opened and closed the gate. Personal belief held that Nell didn’t do that kind of work. Nikki could see the conflict in her face. Eventually, the years of farm living won out. She got out of the car and opened the gate. Nikki pulled through and waited while she closed the gate. She thought briefly about pushing on the gas pedal and leaving her mother behind, but she didn’t follow through. Things with her mother were actually better than they had been in years. But for a moment, the urge to run had been overwhelming.