Trust Me, I'm Trouble

by Mary Elizabeth Summer

  “Speaking from experience?”

  “Maybe.”

  We wait another few minutes with nothing disturbing the silence but the ticking cuckoo clock Angela’s mother got her during a trip to Switzerland a couple of years back.

  “Waiting sucks.” I suddenly feel bad for anyone I’ve ever made wait for me.

  “Yes, it does.”

  “Does it get any easier?”

  “Nope,” Angela says, finally giving up on the crossword and coming over to sit next to me. “Want to make brownies and watch silly kung fu movies?”

  I smile. “Sure.”

  We’re halfway through Project Ninja Daredevils when Mike and Dani finally show up. It takes everything I have not to jump up and hug them.

  “Brownie?” Angela says, holding up the plate to Mike. He leans in for a kiss first, then snags the biggest brownie from the middle of the pile. “How’d it go?”

  Dani walks by, passing up the brownies and the seat next to me on the couch. She sits on the other couch instead.

  “No-show,” Mike says, sitting on the other half of Dani’s couch. There’s something between Dani and Mike, some kind of understanding that neither of them is sharing.

  “What does this mean?” Angela asks. “If the person didn’t show up, does that mean they know you weren’t on the level?”

  “That was always a risk,” Dani says, speaking for the first time.

  “Do you think Han—”

  “No,” she says.

  “It could also be that whoever it was gave up, changed his mind,” Angela says. But even she doesn’t sound like she believes it.

  “Dani, can we talk privately for a sec?” I say.

  She looks questioningly at Mike first, which irritates the hell out of me. He nods, and she follows me into the guest room. I try to shut the door after us, but she stops it with her hand. The warning look she gives me is enough to convey her meaning. I relent and leave it open.

  “I was worried about you,” I say without meaning to.

  “I am always worried about you,” she says back.

  “Tell me really. What do you think happened tonight?”

  She sighs and leans against the doorjamb. “I think someone informed the client. Not Han,” she says as I open my mouth to ask. “Someone else. But I do not know who.”

  “Who else is there? Nobody knows but us.”

  “The FBI knew. We have no way of knowing how many people were aware of the operation.”

  “Speaking of operation…” I fill her in on Operation Peeping Tom.

  “Are you planning to tell Ramirez?”

  “No. I’m trying to keep things uncomplicated.” It’s the best way I can think of to put it.

  “Uncomplicated. I see,” she says.

  I fidget with the hem of my shirt, feeling uneasy. “Are you in danger now?” I ask, my question trembling embarrassingly at the end. “Because of me?”

  “Milaya,” she says, wrapping me in a rare hug. “I am always in danger.”

  I laugh bitterly, my head tucked between her ear and shoulder. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

  “It is supposed to make you laugh,” she says.

  I hate that I’m falling in love with you. I hate that you won’t love me back. I don’t say it out loud, though. It would ruin the moment, and I’d rather chew off my own arm than do that. But the moment is shattered anyway when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I sigh and pull away.

  “Hello?” I say with perhaps a slight hint of irritation.

  “Julep? It’s Lily,” she stage-whispers. “I broke into Sister Rasmussen’s office.”

  “You did what?” I say. “Why?”

  Instead of answering, she says. “You’re not going to believe what I found.”

  “Back up. What are you doing at St. Agatha’s?”

  “You put me on Rasmussen detail, remember? Besides, I couldn’t sleep. Figured I might as well be productive.”

  “How did you even get in?”

  “I told the security guard I’d left my purse in my locker and only just realized it—wallet, keys, phone, everything. He agreed to let me in when I slipped him a hundred.”

  “You can’t just decide to do this stuff on your own! What if I already had plans?”

  “Did you already have plans?”

  “No, but I could have.” This is why I prefer working alone whenever possible. When minions start thinking independently, it’s time to kick them to the curb. “And just because you bribed the security guard doesn’t mean he isn’t going to rat you out. It’s your word against his, unless you made a recording of the bribe.” The silence on the other end of the line isn’t reassuring. “Look, I’m sending Dani to get you.”

  “Wait! Don’t you want to hear what I found?”

  I do, but I’m not sure I should reward her behavior. I pull the phone from my ear and cover the mike.

  “Lily is at St. Agatha’s administration building. Would you mind bringing her back here? I’m afraid she’s going to get caught, or worse.”

  Dani nods and squeezes my hand before heading out. I put the phone back up to my ear as I watch her go.

  “Dani’s coming to get you. When she texts you, you’d better be outside waiting for her, or I will send her in to pull you out by your hair. Understood?”

  “Do you want to hear what I found or not?”

  I sigh heavily. “Fine. Tell me.”

  “At first, I—”

  “And take pictures of everything while you’re talking,” I say.

  “Okay.” She switches me to speakerphone. I hear the snapshot noise of her phone taking a picture. “At first, I didn’t think anything of it. I figured if it was out on her desk, it wouldn’t be anything useful. So I dug through her file cabinet and drawers before looking in the most obvious place in the room.”

  “Lily, speed it up. I want you out of the building ASAP.”

  She takes another picture. “I’m taking shots of it now, by the way. I can’t believe she just left it out.”

  Now I’m starting to believe she didn’t just leave it out. It could easily be a trap.

  “Lily, really. Get out of there. You can tell me all about it when Dani picks you up.”

  “Not yet. Listen, it’s a bank notice. Notifying the recipient that her safe-deposit box was broken into.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. The address in the letterhead says the bank’s located in New York.”

  “Is the letter addressed to Sister Rasmussen?”

  “Nope. It’s—”

  My heart jumps as Lily cuts herself off. “Lily? What happened?”

  “I just heard something,” she whispers.

  It’s been only five minutes since Dani left. It can’t be her.

  “Hide!” I say. “Take me off speaker. Whatever you do, don’t hang up. Even if you get caught, try to hide the phone on you somewhere and keep the line open as long as possible.”

  Then I freeze as I hear the office door creaking open. Lily whimpers softly in my ear.

  I shush her and whisper, “Stay with me. You can do this.”

  She goes silent. It’s only a matter of moments before whoever it is spots her. Even if she’s hiding under the desk, a determined searcher will find her in seconds. It’s not that large an office.

  “You still have surprise on your side. Get ready to run. As soon as the person gets close to where you’re hiding, jump out and push them hard, then run for all you’re worth.”

  Lily’s breathing speeds up, which I take to mean that the person is closing in on her location. Then I hear a shout and some muffled swearing and, finally, words.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, it’s just me,” says Murphy’s voice through the line. “What are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?” Lily hisses.

  “Ow,” he says. I smile at the mental image of Lily throwing her shoe at him. “Same as you, obviously. Thought I’d take a look around Sister Rasmussen’s office while B
ryn’s at Val’s party. Holy crap! Did you see the letter from the bank?”

  “Hit him again, Lily,” I say.

  “Ow!” he says as she complies.

  “Hey, guys. Find anything?” I hear Sam’s voice through the phone and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’d be happy to smack Murphy upside the head if that’s the price of admission,” he says.

  “What the hell?” I yell into the phone. “Lily, put me back on speaker.” I wait a few seconds for her to comply before continuing my tirade. “Why are all three of you there?”

  “I came with Murphy,” Sam says. “You know, backup. Why’d you send Lily alone?”

  “I didn’t send Lily. I didn’t send any of you!”

  “Initiative is a good thing in an employee,” Lily says.

  “It didn’t occur to any of you to clue me in to this little adventure?”

  “It’s not like you could have come,” Murphy says. “Besides, it was a spontaneous, carpe diem kind of thing. Masters of our own—”

  “Shut up, Murphy,” I say. “Sam, you at least should have known better.”

  “I didn’t think we’d find anything, so I didn’t want to worry you with it. Breaking into the school is kid stuff anyway.”

  “Hey,” Lily says, offended. “I bribed a guard.”

  “All three of you are going to be on crap admin duty for the next six months,” I say.

  “There’s not enough to keep all three of us busy,” Murphy points out.

  I hear the rustling of paper and assume Murphy or Lily is passing the letter to Sam.

  “Oh, my god,” Sam says. “Julep. You’re not going to believe this.”

  “So everyone keeps saying. Just tell me already.”

  “This letter is addressed to Lucrezia Moretti.”

  Of course it is.

  “Who’s Lucrezia Moretti?” Lily asks.

  “She’s my grandmother.”

  • • •

  “They say too many cups of coffee will stunt your growth,” Mike says from his place at the kitchen table as I pour the last dregs of the coffee into my mug.

  I wave off his comment. “You’re just saying that because you want another cup. It’s not hard to make more, you know.”

  “Maybe. But still, this is your third cup in under an hour. That seems like a lot, even for you and especially on a Sunday morning. Everything okay?”

  I hide a jaw-cracking yawn behind my hand. “Long night punishing minions,” I say. “Worth it, though.”

  He chuckles. “Anything I should know about?”

  The look in his eyes is half joking, half cagey. He’s hoping he’ll get something out of me. Which means he probably suspects something and he’s not telling me. Great. Now I have to waste time worrying that he’s on to Sam for the New York bank robbery. The bank robbery that resulted in the theft of the blue-fairy flash drive. The blue-fairy flash drive that, apparently, belonged to my grandmother Lucrezia Moretti. As if I didn’t have enough problems trying to figure out who killed Duke and who is trying to kill me.

  “Oh, you know. Bribery, some light B&E. The usual.”

  “Why do I feel like you’re telling me the truth in such a way that I’ll think it’s a joke?”

  “Because I do it all the time.”

  He sighs. “Walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

  “Most people do. So when are you going to tell me about your trip to New York?”

  “Empire State Building was nice. Statue of Liberty was a bit overrated, though,” he says. “Hey, this truth thing is fun.”

  “I’m just offering to give you my professional opinion on the case. I’m stuck here till tomorrow morning, after all. I have to keep myself entertained somehow.”

  “I appreciate that, but my team has a lead or two we’re following up on. No grifter input needed.”

  Fabulous. Just freaking fantastic. I’m going to have to find a way to sabotage that investigation or Sam’s going to end up with a one-way ticket to serious jail time.

  “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

  “Thanks,” he says, gulping the last of his coffee in one swallow. “So. You and Dani, huh? Can’t say I saw that one coming.”

  My face heats up. “There’s no me and Dani. There’s no me and anybody.”

  Mike scratches his stubbly cheek. The man shaves, I swear, but he always has stubble. It’s, like, an immutable tough-guy law. “Funny, she said the same thing when I talked to her.”

  “Oh, my god, Mike, you didn’t.” For a second, I seriously consider smothering him in his sleep. “I hope you know this is a spike-your-coffee-with-Drano offense. Not a single person would blame me. Not even Angela.”

  “Not even Angela what?” says a sleepy Angela as she shuffles into the kitchen.

  “Your rube of a husband asked Dani what her intentions were regarding me.”

  Angela gasps. “You didn’t.” She sounds almost as horrified as I feel. “The Drano’s under the sink. Do you need me to get it?” she says to me.

  “Hey, I’m in charge of your emotional as well as your physical well-being,” Mike says. “Dani is, no offense, the last person I’d feel good about you dating. I was completely justified in my actions.”

  “No, honey. I’m sorry, but no. Just no.” Angela is totally my hero. “Besides, I already talked to Dani.”

  “Are you both on drugs?”

  Angela pats my head. “It’s adorable how sincerely you believe you don’t need parents,” she says. “But you do, whether you like it or not.”

  I’m not big on embarrassment. I don’t generally dwell on it. I feel it and let it go. But this is a whole new realm of mortification.

  “What did she say?” I ask, not sure I want to hear the answer.

  Mike and Angela share a look, but it’s Angela who answers. “She’s in denial. Not of her feelings, but of any ability to act on them.” She squeezes my shoulder. “I don’t think she’s going to budge, sweetie.”

  Well, that’s not surprising. The depth to which my heart plummets is new, though.

  “I think I’ll go back to bed,” I say, pouring my coffee into the sink. “If anyone needs me, tell them to get lost.”

  “Julep, about New York,” Mike says, leaning back in his chair. “I’d hate to find out that you or any of your friends were involved in that robbery. I don’t want to arrest you.”

  “Then don’t,” I say, and leave.

  • • •

  “Crap. Are you sure?” Sam says.

  “Pretty damn sure, Sam,” I say into the phone. “He knows something or he wouldn’t have brought up the bit about not wanting to arrest us.”

  Some muffled swearing follows. Sam’s picked up a few new phrases in military school. “I’ll handle it.”

  “No. No, you will not handle it. No more solo missions, remember? All three of you swore blood oaths to me after the bank letter debacle.”

  “Quit being melodramatic. It wasn’t a debacle. A mild catastrophe, at most.”

  I roll my eyes, though only Dani can see since she’s driving me and Sam’s just on the phone.

  “Listen, I will handle Mike. You keep digging at NWI. Ackley probably had an accomplice. Somebody higher up.”

  “Gotta go. The other initiates are arriving for the big meeting. Are you going to get here in time?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” I say, and hang up.

  Dani seems extra broody this morning. I remember my conversation with the Ramirezes and my cheeks heat again.

  “What’s the stony face for? Not enough barbed wire for breakfast this morning?”

  It’s a measure of her mood that she ignores my playful jab. Instead, she says, “I know you think this Ackley person is harmless. But if he did kill Salinger, he is deadly. You should avoid confronting him.”

  “Come on, you know me. Or you should by now. I don’t confront people directly.”

  She arches an eyebrow.

  “Okay, I sometimes confront people
directly. But you can stop worrying. I’ve got this.”

  She’s still looking at me dubiously when she drops me off at the front door. I hustle in because I’m just short of late for Dr. Raktabija’s big speech to the entire organization. It’s apparently being recorded for the website. I don’t want to be the jerk disrupting it with a squeaky door.

  I manage to make it in just before the auditorium doors shut, sliding into a seat Aadila saved for me in the interns’ row.

  “You’re late,” Aadila says, cutting her eyes over to where Ackley is sitting, quietly seething. “His panties are screwed on far too tight.”

  I swallow a laugh as the lights dim and a spotlight illuminates the podium onstage. Dr. Raktabija strides purposefully up to it, her face drawn and puffy from crying, and I suddenly don’t feel like laughing anymore.

  I have a weird moment of almost déjà vu seeing another woman standing on another stage about to give another eulogy. The place and circumstances may be different, but the end is the same. Someone was taken from a community that loved him with a single, well-aimed bullet. But there the similarities end. Dr. Raktabija, the future leader of NWI, is nothing like Sister Rasmussen. Where Sister Rasmussen is a pasty white woman in her sixties with gray hair, Dr. Raktabija is an Indian woman in her late thirties, with long, black-brown curls framing a heart-shaped face. The few times I’ve seen her in passing, she wore bright colors, but today, she’s swathed in deep black.

  “Duke Salinger was like a father to me. He brought me out of a darkness so expansive that I could not even see it until he let in a small ray of light. The longer I followed him, the more light surrounded me, until I floated in a sea of light every day. I know many of you feel the same. That was Duke’s gift to the world, to each of us.

  “But Duke did not teach us to lean on his light. He taught us to nurture and harness and fight for the light within ourselves. It is only by adhering to this teaching that we will regenerate the light we lost. We owe it to ourselves, to each other, and to Duke to continue perfecting the skills he taught us.

  “How we react to this tragedy will define us as an organization. We can either come together and build the New World Initiative into an even stronger entity, or we can let everything Duke lived and died for crumble into dust. The choice is made here in this room, in this moment, in each of our hearts.”