This Doesn't Happen In The Movies (The Reed Ferguson Mystery Series)

by Renee Pawlish

“I’ll come through the back yard. Don’t say anything. Leave some loud music on in your living room.”

  “Music?”

  “To help muffle any sounds. And stay sober.”

  “Reed,” she said.

  “Just do it. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I hung up and drove back to the office. I suddenly had a lot of work to do.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “All right, I don’t see anyone.” I was standing at the edge of Amanda Ghering’s back yard, scanning the perimeter of her property with night-vision goggles purchased earlier in the day from an Army surplus store. I had no way of knowing if the feds had Amanda’s house surrounded or if they only had a car out front. Or did they have someone watching at all? I had come prepared. But after a careful look around, I didn’t see anyone. Just houses, trees, and an occasional fence, all neon green from the goggles. “Let’s go,” I whispered.

  “This is exciting,” Willie whispered back as she followed me. She looked really cute in black slacks and sweater and a heavy navy blue jacket, her short blond hair tucked into a Rockies baseball cap. “My life needed more adventure.”

  “Shh,” I hissed. We’d made it this far unseen, and I wanted to keep it that way.

  A couple of hours earlier, I’d gone with the Goofball Brothers to B 52’s. Thursday nights there are fairly crowded. I started a game of pool with the brothers, then left them there and managed to lose my FBI tail by sneaking out the back, where Willie had been waiting with her car in the alley. Forty minutes later, we had arrived at Amanda's house.

  We ran in a crouch up to the back porch. I took a quick look behind us, but didn’t notice anything. No dogs barking, no people in their yards. Music drifted out to us. I tapped quietly on the rear door. Nothing. I rapped a little harder and the door opened. Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony blared out.

  I put my hand up to my lips. Amanda, decked out in red designer jeans and white sweater, gestured for us to come in the house. The back door led into a darkened kitchen, the white walls and cabinets glowing eerily from an overhead light in the front entryway. On the gray granite countertop next to the sink were a blond wig and a long fur overcoat with a high collar. Willie took off her cap and donned the wig, peeled off her own coat, then shrugged into Amanda’s fur coat. I fixed the collar, pulling it up around her ears. I turned her to the side, sizing up the disguise.

  I mouthed “perfect” to her. She smiled, kissed me lightly on the cheek, and took the car keys that Amanda offered her. Amanda led the way to the garage, and Willie tiptoed out in the dark. She got in the Lexus and waited for my signal. Amanda strolled into the living room, shut off the stereo, slipped into a black leather jacket, and came back to join me. I signaled to Willie. As I shut the inner door, she opened the garage door. Amidst the rumble from the automatic door opener, Amanda and I tiptoed out the back door.

  We sidled up to the side of the house, just in time to see the Lexus turn out of the driveway. Willie was doing her job well. It was impossible to tell who was driving the car. In a few seconds, a dark sedan drove down the street after Amanda’s Lexus. The feds were watching, and they bought our ruse. I turned around and gave Amanda a thumbs-up sign.

  I took a moment to scan the yard with the field glasses. All clear. Amanda and I grabbed hands, bent low, and ran for the edge of the yard. We reached a tall pine tree. I pulled us around it and stopped. We were both breathing hard.

  “I think we fooled them,” I whispered. “But we don’t have much time.”

  “Where is she going?”

  “I don’t know. She’ll drive around, get a burger or something and head back.”

  “I would never do that. Especially just to get a burger. Yuck!” Amanda made a gagging motion with her finger in her mouth.

  “It doesn’t matter, as long as she keeps the FBI away from us.” I leaned close to her, smelling her breath. “Have you been drinking?”

  “I needed something to calm my nerves.”

  I glared at her. “I told you not to drink. If one thing goes wrong…” The sentence hung in the air. If one thing did go wrong, I would be getting a lot of people in trouble.

  “Come on.” I climbed the waist-high chain-link fence, helped Amanda over, and ran off through her neighbor’s yard, over to the next street. We ran two long blocks, past huge houses, heading east.

  “Wait,” Amanda halted abruptly.

  “What?” I said, gasping for breath.

  “I have to pee.” She looked miserable.

  “What?”

  “I’m nervous, and I have to go.”

  I threw up my hands in exasperation. “Hold it.” I started running again.

  “I can’t.”

  “Well,” I smiled sweetly. “You have plenty of choice trees and bushes.”

  She gave me a withering look and stalked off between two houses. I prayed no one would choose this moment to look out their windows. In two minutes she was back, looking relieved.

  “Come on!” I said.

  “You don’t need to get so mad,” she said, dashing after me.

  “We’re in a hurry.” We ran for three more blocks.

  “Wait,” she called out again.

  “What?” My patience was wearing thin.

  “This running is hurting my feet.”

  “You shouldn’t have worn heels,” I said, pointing at her spiked pumps. “And what’s with the red? When I called this afternoon I said to dress in dark clothes.”

  “I have to look good for my meeting,” she said with a pout.

  “Right, I’m sure it’s important to make a good impression now.”

  She gave me another scornful look. “That’s not funny.”

  “Come on, we’re wasting time.” One more block up I spied a beat-up Honda Civic. I sprinted to it and opened the passenger door. I flipped up the seat and clambered into the back. “Get in,” I ordered Amanda, who stood looking at the car in surprise.

  “I wondered how you were getting me to the restaurant,” she said as she sat down in the front seat.

  “This is Cal,” I introduced him as he pulled away from the curb.

  “Where to?” Cal asked, barely acknowledging Amanda. I directed him to The Snake Pit, a restaurant in Castle Rock, where Amanda's rendezvous was taking place.

  “So you’re Reed’s help?” Amanda said, placing well-manicured fingers on Cal’s arm.

  If Cal knew she was flirting with him, he didn’t show it. He kept his eyes on the road, and Amanda removed her hand and stared out the window. She had no idea how I had to cajole Cal into helping me. Unlike Willie, he wasn’t interested in the adventure, and even my undying friendship didn’t sway him. This was a man who rarely ventured from his house, had his groceries delivered, and did most of his shopping over the Internet. The outside world held no interest for him. But when I mentioned the FBI, he changed his mind. I don’t think he liked being threatened by them.

  “So what’s with the Navy Seal look?” Cal asked, looking at me in the rear view mirror. I had dressed completely in black: jeans, sweatshirt, socks, shoes, and knit cap pulled low over my ears. At least I hadn’t painted my face black.

  “I didn’t want anyone to see us,” I said, reaching around the seat and poking Amanda in the ribs.

  “My jacket’s black, and so are my heels.” She crossed her arms and tossed her hair at me. I met Cal’s gaze in the mirror. His brown eyes sparkled with humor.

  We drove the rest of the way in silence. I kept peering out the back window, but never saw a car tailing us. Apparently we had given the FBI the slip. That made twice for me. And no one would pay attention to Cal's beat-up Honda.

  At five minutes to seven Cal drove past The Snake Pit. It was a small, family-run restaurant stuck in between a used bookstore and a liquor store. Three big bay windows faced the street, with an entrance to the right of them. Cal turned the corner and parked the Civic on a side street a block from the restaurant.

  Amanda turned around. “All rig
ht,” I said. “Find out what they want. Don’t do anything you wouldn’t normally do. And don’t drink.”

  “But that’s what I would normally do,” she said.

  “True,” I acknowledged. “But I need you sober so you can keep everything straight. I want a detailed description of who meets you, what she, or he, says. And what the X Women want. Sit at a table near the windows if you can, so I can see who meets you. Got it?”

  She bobbed her head up and down. “Where will you be?”

  “I’ll see if I can watch from outside somewhere. And I’ll meet you back here.” She opened the door and got out. I followed her, and waited while she walked to the corner. Then she disappeared from view.

  “If anything happens, meet me at that gas station,” I said and pointed to a Conoco down the road. “I don’t know how long this’ll take.”

  “Go,” Cal ordered as I slammed the door shut.

  I jogged to the corner and stuck my head around the building. Amanda had reached the restaurant, and a valet was holding the restaurant door for her. I counted to sixty, but didn’t see anyone enter behind her. I crossed the street and walked down the block, stopping at the street corner. A couple came out of the restaurant and handed a ticket to the valet. He dashed off down the street to retrieve their car, and I took the opportunity to walk back to a store directly across from The Snake Pit. I stepped back into the shadows of the entrance and watched.

  I couldn’t see Amanda in the restaurant. I was disappointed to see that the three available window tables were occupied. I checked my watch. Five after seven. The valet came back with the car and the couple drove off. A group of four came from the direction where Cal was waiting. They walked casually inside. I leaned out to get a better view down the street and froze.

  At the same corner I had just occupied was a woman in a long tan overcoat and dark hat whose floppy brim obscured her face. She looked left and right, waited for a white minivan to pass, then crossed the street and entered the restaurant. I didn’t think she’d seen me. And I hadn’t seen her face, but I'd bet my Navy Seal cap she was an X Woman.

  I didn’t think it’d be long now. I looked at my watch again. Seven ten. I squinted but couldn’t see anything beyond people dining at the tables near the windows. Watching them eat was making me hungry. My stomach growled. I reached in my pocket for a Snickers bar and unwrapped it as quietly as I could. I was probably breaking every rule of undercover work, but I’d been so nervous I hadn’t eaten since this morning. I needed the extra energy, I told myself.

  I bit off half the candy bar and almost moaned, it tasted so good right then. I was so engrossed in my candy bar that I almost missed the woman in the tan overcoat coming back across the street. I swallowed hard and nearly gagged on peanuts, nougat, and chocolate.

  I stopped chewing and held my breath until she passed by. I took a hesitant step forward and looked to the right. She was gone. I looked back at the The Snake Pit. Amanda had just come out the door and was walking hurriedly back toward the car. I followed on the other side of the street, guiltily finishing the Snickers. Once Amanda turned down the side street where Cal was parked, I started running. She swirled around when she was about ten feet from the car, her face tight with fear, then relief when she recognized me.

  “They want another meeting,” she said as we slid into the car.

  “That was quick,” Cal said. He’d left the car running and without delay he made a u-turn and we started back to Amanda’s house.

  “They want another meeting?” I repeated. “What for?”

  Amanda arched her eyebrows at me. “How should I know? They want to meet again in two days. I’m supposed to call from a pay phone tomorrow morning at eleven-thirty to receive instructions. That’s exactly what she said: receive instructions. How silly can they make this?” Amanda’s voice dripped derision.

  “What else did she say?”

  “How did you know it was a woman?”

  “The X Women?” Cal said,.

  “The woman in the tan overcoat and hat,” I said. “It was her, right?”

  “Yes. She sat down at the table, ordered a white wine spritzer, and told me that I’d complicated things. They needed my help to straighten everything out. I asked about Peter, and she said someone would explain everything to me at the next meeting. She said not to talk to anyone, and that they’ll inform me tomorrow about where the next meeting will be. Then she left.”

  “Before she had her drink?” Cal asked. “How rude.”

  I punched his arm. “Quit it.” I focused on Amanda. “That’s it? Nothing else?” She shook her head. “What’s the point of all this?” she said angrily. “Why not tell me now instead of dragging me through all this?”

  “Onion skins,” Cal said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I explained about Cal’s analogy of putting layers between each person in the organization, so no one person knows too much about what the other members are doing.

  “What did she look like?” I asked Amanda.

  She bit her lower lip while she thought. “A little tall, although she did have on heels. She had brown hair, cut in a bob. It didn’t look good on her, either. And she needed more makeup. Her face isn’t attractive enough to skimp on that. No earrings either.”

  I caught Cal rolling his eyes in the rear view mirror.

  “Amanda?” I asked.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you have anything more than fashion observations?”

  “I’m just trying to tell you what I saw,” she said. “She wasn’t very attractive.”

  “What color were her eyes? Did she look like she had a gun or anything? Did she talk with an accent or do anything that would give away where she was from?”

  “Blue, no, and no.”

  “So she was an ordinary woman, maybe a little tall, with brown hair.”

  “And unattractive,” Cal added.

  Amanda agreed. “I don’t see how this is helping anything.”

  I sat back, right on my impulse to say something sarcastic. I pulled my cell phone out and dialed Willie’s number. By now we were back on I-25.

  “Who’re you calling?” Amanda asked.

  “Willie. I need to tell her to head back to your house now.”

  “Where is she?” Amanda asked.

  I held up a hand for silence. “Done,” I said into the phone.

  “Half hour,” Willie said to me, then hung up.

  I pocketed the cell phone. “She’ll be there in a half hour. She’ll let herself in and wait for us. Her instructions are to turn the stereo back on again and wait in the kitchen.”

  “You have this all planned out, don’t you?” Amanda said, reappraising me.

  “It wasn’t easy.” I thought back to the number of trips I took to the fire escape or the bathroom on the main floor of my building so I could call Willie or Cal on the cell phone. And apparently no FBI types heard, because this was going off without a hitch.

  “Here we are,” Cal interrupted us. We were back on the same street where he’d picked us up. Amanda and I got out.

  “I’ll be back,” I said, in my best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice. I shut the door and Amanda and I ran down the street, retracing our steps from earlier in the evening. The moon was out now, casting everything in shadows.

  A sudden beep pierced the quiet. I stopped cold and Amanda plowed into me.

  “Oh, no. We’re dead,” she gasped, holding a hand up to her neck.

  I heard my heart beating in my ears, and then the beep again. I shook my head. “It’s only my cell phone.” I extracted it with shaky hands from my coat pocket before it could beep again. “What?” I murmured into the phone. A second passed before I thrust the phone at Amanda. “It’s Willie. She set off the burglar alarm! Quick! Tell her what to do.”

  “Oh, is that all?” Amanda took the phone from me, told Willie how to turn off the alarm, then handed it back to me. “See? No big deal.”

  “Are you trying
to sabotage this?” I nearly exploded. “I damn near shit my pants.”

  “Well, I did, if it makes you happy.” She put her hands defiantly on her hips.

  I got in her face. “Why the hell did you set the burglar alarm in the first place?”

  “If you didn’t want me to, you should’ve asked. You were standing right by the back door with me. And keep your voice down.”

  “I had a few other things on my mind.” And I did now too, like maybe I should take her out myself and save the X Women the trouble. “Hurry up.”

  In ten minutes, we were back in Amanda’s kitchen, a rock station blaring from the stereo in the living room. Willie reluctantly gave back the fur coat and put on her Rockies cap. I wrote on a pad for Amanda to call me on my cell the next day at noon. Then Willie and I slipped out into the darkness, leaving Amanda to her vodka and her bathroom facilities.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “They left you in the middle of nowhere?” Cal said, thumping his bottle of beer angrily on the table. We’d dropped Willie off in the alley behind her apartment and watched her sneak through her back yard and in the back door. Once she signaled that everything was okay, Cal and I went for a beer at The Punch Bowl, a small bar near my place. We fought the late-night crowd and found a table at the back. Once seated, I told Cal about my adventures the previous night, the first chance I’d had to talk without fear of the X Women or the FBI listening in. “I thought that kind of stuff only happened in the movies.”

  “Yeah, so did I.” I took a long sip on my beer. I couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying. I kept thinking about the rendezvous at the restaurant. Amanda had the X Women worried. They’d broken their own rules, meeting with her. The X Women didn’t make contact after the wheels started into motion, that’s what Amanda and Maggie had both said. More meetings exposed them to even greater risk. But now they wanted another meeting. I could see why Amanda was so scared. The X Women meant to deal with her. But how? And what had happened to Peter? Did his fate, whatever it was, somehow make her more of a liability, or less?