Catahoula: Shallow End Gals (A Shallow End Gals Book 4)

by Vicki Graybosch

  Weaver asked, “If you think killers are coming after you, why are you doing this?”

  Spicey had a hair clip in her mouth and tried to talk around it. “Dakin here is a Hoodoo Princess. These two bubbas already killed her once. Well, sort of. Buried her anyway. We just came from the bubba house where there be blood all over and a big ol’ axe. Heard ‘em talk about lookin’ for Dakin again. Checkin’ Voodoo shops for who might know her. She be needin’ a whole new look.”

  “One of you can keep an eye out for a rainbow colored truck with a big headed Betty Sue in the back. That be them.” Spicey was nodding her head. “Hey. I might have a spell for that there tattoo. Saw it when I was lookin’ for somethin’ else. Be right back.” Spicey ran out of the room and came back with the big tattered book titled, “Truth Seeker”.

  This was like watching a sitcom for us. We were rolling in laughter at the two agents’ expressions. We also were reading their minds. Mary was holding her sides. “This is too funny.”

  Sasha was on the floor digging in a cupboard. Spicey glanced over, “What you looking for girl?”

  Sasha answered, “Where be that electric turkey cuttin’ knife? That or a chainsaw. I ain’t gonna live long enough to file these nails.”

  Spicey pointed to a different cupboard. Sasha found the knife, plugged it in and gave its motor a rev. She looked at Dakin, “Give me one of your hands.” Dakin held her hand out and Sasha started cutting.

  Weaver and Troy kept glancing at each other. This was priceless.

  Spicey was reading and shaking her head, “I be needing help.” She looked at Weaver. “Just around the corner, by the cash register, is rows of potions in little jars. I’ll yell out the names of ‘em and you get ‘em, okay?”

  Weaver just stared at her. Spicey asked, “You deaf?” Spicey looked down at Dakin, “They send a deaf dude?”

  Weaver got up and walked around the corner. Spicey was mixing corn starch, eggs, and milk in a large bowl. She yelled out, “I need black egg powder and lizard eyes.”

  Weaver entered the room with two jars. Spicey waved her hands at him, “Go back, we ain’t done.”

  A minute later Spicey was seated at the table again measuring the black egg powder. She raised her voice, “Okay, now I need dry goat milk, ground beetle and castor root. That ought to do it.”

  Weaver brought her the remaining ingredients and took his seat again. He and Troy were both mesmerized. Dakin kept looking at herself in a mirror. Spicey had a big wooden spoon and mixed all the potions in the bowl. She quickly finished Dakin’s haircut and clipped it back from her face.

  Spicey looked at Dakin, “This here facial is supposed to remove tattoos. We leave it on exactly seven minutes.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Weaver had to stifle a laugh. There was no way that girl’s tattoos were going to disappear. It struck him that the reality of his situation was that he was babysitting a nut.

  Dakin sat with the black facial mask on her face and neck. Sasha finished the rough cutting of Dakin’s nails with the electric knife. Dakin used a file to smooth the edges. When she finished, Sasha held up the tangled clump of long black nails and asked, “What you want to do with these?”

  Dakin grabbed them. “Maybe I can turn them into a necklace?”

  Sasha suggested, “Or a wind chime.” Dakin was nodding her head. Mary was gasping, she was laughing so hard.

  Spicey was looking in her book. She glanced at Dakin and said, “There is a tiny chance of a side effect here in the small print.”

  Sasha and Dakin said at the same time, “What side effect?”

  Spicey cleared her throat, “Says if I use too much black egg might grow hair.”

  Dakin screamed, “On my face? And neck?”

  Spicey shrugged and pointed to the page, “What it says.”

  Agent Troy thought about his bald spot. Linda cracked up.

  Seven minutes passed and Spicey gave Dakin a big bowl of soapy water and a wash cloth. Everyone held their breath as she wiped the black facial goo from her face.

  Spicey pointed with pride, “Perfect as a baby’s butt. This here shit done saved your life girl!”

  Weaver and Troy both walked over to get a closer look. There was no sign Dakin had ever had a tattoo. Weaver shook his head, “That is amazing!”

  Spicey looked at her watch. “Dang. We been messin’ around too long. Sasha, grab that cap and mug. We gotta get to Mambos.” Spicey looked at both agents. “This here might be a good time to call your boss and get another job assignment.”

  Linda was reading Agent Troy’s mind. She punched Mary’s arm, “He thinks Dakin is cute.”

  Agent Troy spoke, “We go where you go.” He glanced at Dakin.

  Spicey laughed, “Then you be drivin’ us to get a swamp boat.”

  Ellen called Teresa, “Fun’s over, gals. Meet me at the FBI field office.”

  Dang.

  Ellen sat on the desk, her tennis shoe clad feet swinging and said, “This is where we can help Roger, Paul and Cat the most. They have several people they are monitoring or have someone else monitoring for them. The problem is they have not had any time to listen to what has been recorded. Also, they don’t have time to sort out what’s important and what isn’t.”

  Ellen jumped down from the desk and said, “I know angels aren’t supposed to brag, but, our listening systems will help far more than their mortal devices. As soon as Cat announces he is reopening the Jarvis case, our system will go nuts!”

  Oh goody. I had this vision of us all sitting around like stenographers with an earpiece, typing out passages we thought were important. Ugh.

  Ellen pointed to me and said, “Vicki’s got it exactly. Here are your recorders. I’ll be back soon.” Dang.

  Suddenly little boxes with buttons appeared in front of each one of us. There was a little clock on top of each one. I put the earpiece to mine on my head and pushed the first button. I heard Mason Dooly begging Ward Bromley to help him steal evidence from the FBI forensic lab.

  I hit stop. “You guys, this really works. I’m listening to Dooley.”

  Teresa shrugged, ‘I don’t know who I’m listening to…wait. This is some guy named Stone.”

  Mary yelled, “I’ve got Ward Bromley.”

  Linda was frowning, “My guy hasn’t been called a name yet. I don’t know who this is, but he talks like he works with the Solicitor General.”

  Ellen popped back in. “Good, you gals figured it out. Those little clocks will give the actual time stamp those conversations occurred. Be sure to include that for Roger. Call me when you’re done.”

  I looked at Mary, “You should be on the other side of the table. This looks like a classroom and you’re the teacher.”

  Mary moved across the table, “Now pay attention. There’s going to be a test.”

  Linda and Teresa glared at me.

  Teresa said, “Thanks.”

  About thirty minutes later we had transcribed all of the conversations that had been recorded.

  Teresa suddenly squealed, “Hey! Ellen says for us to go to the Bahamas! She’s going to meet us there on the island of New Providence.”

  Cool. Finally we get a vacation! Mary changed into a darling bathing suit.

  Nelson and Pablo arrived at the address Thor had given them for Reuben Florey. As soon as they pulled in the driveway a man and a woman ran out of the house and jumped in the back seat. They each carried a paper bag.

  Before Pablo could introduce himself, Marla blurted, “How long are we going to be? I put a roast in the oven. Maybe I should take it out?”

  Pablo answered, “Let’s keep an eye on the clock. It shouldn’t take that long.”

  Reuben leaned forward, “Do you guys know an Agent Dance? He’s the one that’s helping Catahoula.”

  Nelson glanced in the rearview mirror, “He’s our boss. Roger Dance is one of the best agents the FBI has.”

  Reuben leaned back, looked at Marla and smiled. Pablo saw her re
ach over and squeeze Reuben’s hand. Huh, new lovers.

  A patrol car turned onto the street and drove past them. Marla sunk down in the back seat, “Was that him?”

  Nelson answered as he watched in his rear-view mirror. “Could be. Slowing down in front of Reuben’s house.”

  Pablo pointed, “Go around the block.”

  Nelson turned at the corner and sped to the next cross street, turned right again and crawled through the adjoining neighborhood. They saw the back of Reuben’s house. They drove a little further and saw the patrol car in Reuben’s driveway. Nelson pulled over and parked.

  Pablo looked to the back seat. “Stay here. Don’t leave the car.”

  Marla and Reuben both nodded their heads. They looked terrified.

  Nelson and Pablo ran through the backyards and found Mason Dooley looking in the tiny window of Reuben’s garage.

  Pablo raised his voice, “Help you, officer?”

  Dooley was clearly startled. He stammered for a minute, “This your house?”

  Nelson stepped into view from the side of the garage. “Some reason you’re looking in this garage?”

  Mason Dooley felt trapped. “Who the hell are you guys? I saw you snooping around.”

  Pablo chuckled. “You did, huh?”

  Nelson recognized Mason from his file and opened his badge. “FBI, Dooley. You’ve got one minute to answer my question.”

  Dooley was surprised they knew his name and snarled, “I already did.”

  Pablo dialed the field office, “Send a unit over here. We have a new guest.”

  Dooley laughed, “What? You think you’re arresting me? I’m a cop.”

  Neither Pablo nor Nelson said anything. The transport car arrived and Pablo told them to put Dooley in holding until they were ready. One agent drove the patrol car to the field office. The other had directed a very pissed off Mason Dooley to sit in the caged back seat. When the car drove off, Nelson and Pablo walked back to their SUV.

  Inside, Marla asked, “Was that him? Was that Mason Dooley at Reuben’s house?”

  Pablo answered, “Yes, it was, ma’am.”

  Marla rested her head on Reuben’s shoulder. “Good Lord, what have I done?”

  Edward woke, took a shower and walked into the living room. Izzy was deeply engrossed in his collector’s copy of Huckleberry Finn. A part of him winced as he watched her lick her finger and turn the page. A bigger part of him was happy.

  Izzy looked up, “I already have read over a hundred pages. This is so good.”

  Ed glanced to the kitchen. It actually sparkled. His laundry was folded and sitting in baskets. He looked at Izzy, “You didn’t need to do all of this work. Thank you.”

  Izzy beamed.

  Ed pulled out his money clip. “It is only fair that I pay you for your work.”

  Izzy looked hurt. “This isn’t a job. I cleaned, because you are my friend.”

  Ed put his money back in his pocket.

  Izzy smiled, “Besides, I got a job today at Otis’s. He’s going to let me sweep. I gave him your phone number. Was that okay?” Izzy looked so proud.

  Ed knew he would have some explaining to do with Otis. “I’m going to walk to his store now to get our groceries. Do you want to come with me?”

  Izzy rested her index finger where she was reading. “If you need me to help carry, I will.”

  Ed asked, “Are you in a good part of the book?” Izzy smiled and nodded her head quickly.

  Ed rubbed the hair on top of her head. “You stay here and read. I’ll be back shortly.”

  Maybe Otis could figure out what to do. An invisible man didn’t need an invisible child.

  Wednesday 5:00 pm

  Mathew Core walked in to the bar at Roger’s hotel. He hadn’t seen Acer leave. Core had placed a tracker and listening device in Acer’s car. Core had access to top level equipment. If he installed it properly, it would pick up both sides of any transmitted communication received in the car. Neither device had registered activity all afternoon. Odds were Acer would be looking to get dinner somewhere and would have to pass the hotel bar. Core was sure Acer would recognize him. He needed to make a connection.

  Core was on his second drink and pretending to be on a cell call when Acer sat on the stool next to him. Core ended his pretend call with, “I’ll get back.” Core inhaled deeply and ignored Acer. Core pulled his money clip from his pocket and started to peel off a couple of bills as he stood.

  Acer stated, “You didn’t really think I didn’t make you?”

  Core sat heavily back on his stool and showed Acer a fake grin. “One can always hope. How’ve you been?”

  Acer shrugged, “What is it they say? Just livin’ the dream.”

  Core smiled and stood. “Good. See ya around.”

  Acer grabbed Core’s jacket sleeve. “Sit back down a minute. I’ve got a question.”

  Core sat. “What?”

  “You still a fixer?” Acer took a sip of his drink and smiled.

  Core frowned. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Acer grinned, “Fine. I suppose you sell shoes?”

  “Sounds about right. How about you?”

  Acer nodded, “I’m in the shoe game myself. Big business these days.”

  Mathew Core smiled to himself. Acer just admitted he was still dirty and believed Core was, too.

  Acer leaned forward and lowered his voice, “Couple of FBI staying here right now.”

  Core took a sip of his drink. “So?”

  Acer slapped the edge of the bar. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Which one?”

  “Why are you here?”

  Acer shrugged, “I’m just waiting for a call.” Just then Acer’s cell rang. Acer turned away from Core. “Yeah.” Acer listened for a minute and hung up. He downed his drink in one gulp. “Duty calls.”

  Core thought Acer looked tense, maybe even angry. Core said, “Good luck selling those shoes.”

  Acer glanced back, “You, too.”

  Core activated his listening and tracker equipment in Acer’s car to transmit to his phone. After a few moments he heard Acer talking. “What the hell? This is how you show you’re sorry? You hand me a suicide mission?”

  Core’s device allowed him to hear the voice on the other end say, “I’m confident you can succeed if you hurry. He just got out of surgery. They should still be disorganized and unfamiliar with staff.”

  Acer had ended the call and cursed. This was so stupid. So cliché. Of course the FBI would be waiting for him. A part of Acer found the idea exciting. It was beyond daring to even attempt. If he succeeded, his services would be invaluable, legendary.

  Acer chuckled to himself. Evidently Stone isn’t the only egomaniac.

  Core dialed Roger, “Do you have someone in a hospital?”

  Steven Marks had been moved to a private intensive care unit room. The surgeon had declared that Steven was a very lucky man and should have a full recovery. The entire medical staff balked at the badges Zack insisted they wear on their left lapels. Jeanne had heard him at the nurses’ station, “You will not enter that room without one. I won’t give you one without proof of your identity and your need for access to that patient. Period.”

  The hospital administrator had been called and instructed staff to comply. He also gave Zack a list of those people authorized to care for Steven. Zack walked back to where Jeanne stood flanking Steven Marks’s door.

  He rolled his eyes and said, “Like we would know who’s legit and who isn’t.”

  Jeanne chuckled. “There is a chair over there you can sit down in. I know you worked the gym all morning. You know nothing’s going to happen here.”

  Zack declined and stood on the other side of the door. He looked at Jeanne, “What do you have?”

  Jeanne answered, “Glock. Six knives. You?”

  Zack answered, “A semi. One knife.” Zack’s gaze passed Jeanne to a man walking down the hall. He had on blue scrubs and slowed down at Steven
’s door. He smiled at Jeanne and reached for the doorknob. Jeanne grabbed his arm, Zack pulled his gun and the man stammered, “What the heck?”

  Jeanne pushed him to the wall, “Who are you?”

  A nurse wearing one of Zack’s badges ran down the hall. “Wait. He’s okay, he doesn’t know.”

  Evidently the orderly had just reported to work. He had been in the men’s room when everyone had gotten Zack’s speech, and was just making his rounds. Zack located the man’s name on his list and gave him a lapel badge.

  The man looked at Jeanne and said, “You guys scared the crap out of me. What did this guy do?”

  Zack answered, “He’s a good guy, Attorney General’s office. We’re just security.”

  The orderly backed up, “No wonder. Hey, I’m sorry. I don’t even have to go in there right now.” The orderly left and went back to the nurses’ station. In minutes he was the center of attention as people shot nervous glances down the hall and spoke in animated whispers.

  We arrived in the Bahamas and spent a little time flying around looking at the beautiful beaches. Suddenly Ellen was flying with us. “Follow me!” She took off, leaving a vapor trail like a jet. Geesh. Ellen landed on the deck of a large yacht. There were two men walking the deck and a man up in the cabin above.

  Ellen started down a staircase, “Down here.” We followed her down a hall and to a large room in the back. A woman and two girls sat huddled together crying.

  Mary whipped around and asked Ellen, “What’s the matter with them?”

  Ellen answered, “They have been kidnapped. Detained, as the men on the deck would say. That woman is Sarah Welsh. Her husband is a U.S. Senator that is being pressured to vote on a bill tomorrow. The girls are Megan, 8, and Chelsy, 12.

  Linda went over and sat by them. We know we can emit calming auras, so Mary followed Linda and put her arms around Megan.

  Teresa asked, “Can’t we just apply a little ninja angel to these guys and call the coast guard?”