by Maisie Dean
“Okay, sure. Thank you,” I said. I could see blood trickling beneath the cuff of my right leg toward my shoe. Both of my arms stung.
I followed Busty to her front door. The front door I’d been watching for hours, unbeknownst to my host.
I’d screwed up by letting myself be seen by my subject. This mistake exceeded the severity even of Lucky’s best mess-ups, and that was saying something. I prayed I wasn’t going to do anything that would jeopardize the agency or ruin the Booker brothers’ reputations.
My pulse quickened as I neared the front door. Would Annie be in there? Would she suspect something? Luckily, Tippy had been right earlier that morning. I was good at improvising. I’d spent years as an actress, for goodness sake. I could do this.
“Come on in, girl,” Busty said. She stood waiting for me just inside the door.
I took a breath and stepped right into the lion’s den.
CHAPTER 6
The inside of Busty and Annie’s house reminded me of my own. It was automatically nicer just by being a house rather than an old apartment, but it had some of that always-messy feel that I was familiar with. Clothing of all shapes and sizes, mostly black, was strewn about the furniture. The living room was off to the left of the front door and a small kitchen was to the right. A sparkly feather boa was folded over one of the kitchen chairs.
“This way to the bathroom,” Busty instructed.
As the shock from falling and meeting Busty faded, my observational skills returned. On the way to the bathroom at the end of the hall, we passed two bedrooms. The one with fishnets hung over the doorknob had to be Busty Honey’s. Her door was wide open, exposing an unmade bed. The contents of her closet took up the majority of the real estate on the floor. Two black wigs had been hung up carefully on a desk, in front of a large mirror. A makeup collection was spread out on the desk.
The second bedroom door was nearly closed, but not quite. This had to be our subject’s room—Annie’s room. Through the crack, I observed that the floor was clear, at least in the section I saw. The bed appeared to be made, with the sheets tucked in at the end, but the floral blankets were slightly ruffled. There were a few different pairs of simple, worn out sneakers lined up neatly on the floor by the wall next to a skinny floor-length mirror. There was a chip missing from the upper left corner.
Busty opened the bathroom door at the end of the hall and ushered me in.
The bathroom was decorated with bright, white subway tiles. I walked inside just as a drop of my blood rolled off my ankle bone and hit the floor.
“Sorry,” I said.
Busty shook her head kindly.
“Don’t even worry, girl. You should see me in here when I get to contouring; the whole place turns orange. If it was up to me, I’d leave it that way too,” Busty said.
The contrast between all the crisp white and my blood was stark, not to mention the way it heightened the intensity of Busty’s makeup.
“Take a seat on the edge of the tub and Dr. Busty will attend to you,” Busty said. She laughed softly at her own joke. I hadn’t noticed until now that the way Busty spoke stuck out to me. It was husky, and low for a woman. Busty pulled out some cotton pads, peroxide, and a box of bandages from a cabinet above the sink. I watched her face and the way her long hair swished around her. The black hair must have been another wig like the ones in the bedroom. I was almost certain of it. And the more I looked at her makeup, the more I saw the look as a collection of techniques to transform her face, rather than subtly and naturally enhance her features.
Busty still had her shoes on. Her boots were longer and larger than I would expect for a woman of her size. I looked at her, full of curiosity and questions I knew I couldn’t ask. I began with something I could ask.
“Do you live here alone?” I hoped it would sound like an innocent conversation-starter and not an interrogation.
Busty shook her head as she soaked a cotton pad under the tap. “I’ve got a roommate. Annie. She’s sleeping right now, but don’t worry. She’s on pain meds that make her sleep like the dead.”
She handed a few damp cotton pads to me.
I pulled off my suit jacket to expose the angry red scratches across my forearms. Busty kneeled and rolled up my pant leg. The cut on my leg was pretty bad. I was surprised that a little thorn could rip such a big hole.
Busty started patting it down to wash off the blood that was already beginning to dry. It stung pretty badly. I winced.
“You seem to know what you’re doing,” I said.
“Well enough for an attack by a rose bush,” Busty said. “I’ve been doing what I can to look after my roommate lately, too. She got hurt recently and hasn’t been able to go into our work. It’s Dr. Busty to the rescue on this block apparently.” She laughed her low, husky laugh again.
“Apparently,” I echoed. I couldn’t believe she’d brought up the topic of Annie’s injury. How convenient was that? I decided to gently press Busty a little further. “You said our work. You two work and live together?”
“Yeah, at Rockburger. We both work there, although we’re kind of like two ships passing in the night. Annie takes day shifts. She does the books. I take the nights, as a server. I’ve always been a night owl. It’s works great for me. Honestly, I think we do better when we’re not around each other all the time. She’s been home since this accident though, with non-stop headaches. She got a neck injury and needs a cane to walk now.” Busty paused as if realizing it had been her voice filling up the small bathroom for a while. “Sorry, girl. I must be boring you with all this.”
“Not at all,” I said, almost too forcefully. “I’ve got a roommate, too. I know how it goes. I feel bad for your roommate. Car accidents can be really difficult to recover from.”
“It wasn’t a car accident. It happened at work.”
“Did she fall?” I asked. I did my best to keep my voice light and even. I didn’t want Busty to feel like I was trying to extract information out of her. To my great benefit, however, Busty was the type of person who talked freely without much external input.
“No. She didn’t fall. Something fell on her, though. Annie was putting some checkbooks in the safe when some of the big boxes on the huge, deep storage shelves fell on her.”
My eyes widened in earnest. Busty continued talking while she dabbed more peroxide onto my leg.
“Luckily, our boss Neil heard it happen and was there to dig her out.”
“Did the boxes fall during an earthquake?” I asked. “Boxes don’t just fall for no reason, and by the sounds of it they were really heavy.”
“No earthquake, no. Annie can be clumsy though. She’s always tripping on stuff at work. Neil teases her about it.” Busty shrugged, but there was vinegar in her voice when she talked about Neil.
“Do you not like your boss?” I asked. Could Neil have been the one to hurt Annie?
Busty’s expression became defensive and cold, but I could tell it wasn’t me that she felt that way about. She shrugged again.
Busty shrugged. “Does anyone?” she asked. “No, I don’t like him much. He’s the wimpiest wimp who ever wimped, but at least he’s sweet on Annie, or as sweet as he can be to another girl who isn’t his girlfriend.” She paused and then answered the question I hadn’t asked. “I know Neil would never hurt Annie.”
I kept my mouth shut and puzzled over the new revelation. Busty was spontaneously defending her boss for seemingly no reason, which meant there was a reason. What was it?
Busty opened the box of Band-Aids, only to discover that it was empty of actual bandages. There were only wrappers shoved back into the box.
“Hold on a second,” she said. “There’s more in Annie’s room. I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t disturb your roommate,” I said. “I’ll be okay. You’ve done plenty.”
Busty shook her head. “Like I said, she sleeps like the dead on this stuff. I’ll just be a minute.” She left the bathroom.
My collection of
scratches had begun to feel much better as I sat waiting for Busty on the edge of the old tub. Busty had done a great job and I was grateful to her for both her first-aid and the information she had supplied me about Annie’s case. The plot had thickened. I was eager to chat to Lucky about what I’d learned undercover. If he ever came back from the taco truck, that is.
It wasn’t until right then, when I considered sending him a text, that I realized my phone was back in the car! The car had been unlocked the whole time. My plan had been to pee quickly and then resume my surveillance and when Busty found me, having a car right beside me wouldn’t have fit with my hook-up-gone-wrong story. Not to mention a car with a telephoto lens camera and Incognito catalog sitting inside. At least the windows were tinted. If Lucky got back while I was still inside the house with Busty, what would he think? Focus, Kacey. The main thing was not to blow my cover and make Busty suspicious, so running out now wasn’t an option. Waiting for her to patch me up and send me on my way was the only solution. I stayed put.
The shower curtain behind me was damp and had been touching my white blouse on the left side. The wet patch was very close to my bra. I stood up to examine the spot in the mirror. The faded light blue bra was beginning to show through.
The mirror was also the medicine cabinet from which Busty had pulled out her supplies. My fingers itched to pull it open and look at the contents. Wrong as it was, I loved peeking into people’s bathroom cabinets. You could always learn something interesting.
I heard Busty’s voice in the other room.
A second voice responded to her, sounding groggy.
I felt sorry for Annie, who had been woken up on account of the Band-Aid search, which was exactly what I wanted to avoid. I was also keenly aware that at this point it would be much better if Annie didn’t see me. It would be much simpler for pursuing her case if she couldn’t recognize me. What if she came to the office?
Busty’s voice was husky and distinctive, while Annie’s sounded weak and thin. The two of them were having a conversation about something. I couldn’t hear the words, but judging by the relaxed pace, I would have a moment to peek inside the medicine cabinet.
CHAPTER 7
The muffled voices continued in Annie’s room.
I pulled at the edge of the mirrored cabinet carefully, muffling the magnetic clasp so that it barely made a click. Something blue slipped off the top shelf and plummeted toward the sink. I grabbed at it with lightning-fast reflexes and prevented an inhaler from clattering into the basin. The small, narrow shelves were filled from end to end. Most of it was the products you’d expect to find in a house shared by two women. The medicine cabinet interior looked almost identical to the one Rosie and I had at our apartment.
There was a spare tube of toothpaste, floss, a small shampoo from a hotel, a comb, a mini tube of yeast infection cream, and a large bottle of makeup remover. On the bottom shelf there were also a number of pill bottles lined up neatly. The pills resembled antipsychotics, but I couldn’t be sure. The labels that should have contained dates and the names of the doctor and patient had been removed. Seeing the carefully arranged row of orange bottles suddenly caused a wave of guilt to crash over me. I shouldn’t have opened the cabinet in the first place. It was a violation of the subject’s privacy. I could only imagine the reproachful lecture Harrison would give me when I returned to the office.
I closed the cabinet. Again, I was careful to not let the magnets make noise.
I grabbed hold of my ponytail and ran my fingers through my hair. I wished I had my phone, not that Lucky was likely to answer if this morning had been any indication. Where had he taken off to for so long?
I took my seat back on the edge of the tub and bounced my un-injured leg up and down. I could hear Busty and Annie talking more clearly now. I focused on trying to make out some of their conversation in the next room.
“I know, I know,” Busty said. “But you should get outside for at least a minute or two. You need fresh air, girl.”
“I’m still too dizzy when I stand up, but I’ll try in a few hours,” I heard Annie’s meek voice reply.
Busty must have given her a look because she continued with slightly more conviction.
“I promise,” Annie said. “How’s Rockburger?”
“Same old song and dance. Vivian is being controlling as ever. She’s insisting we all leave the storage room door open while we’re in there or bring a buddy like we’re in the second grade. Neil’s a wet rag as usual. This new push-up bra is doing wonders for my late night tips. You’re really not missing much. Just focus on getting better, girl, okay?”
“Okay,” Annie said. “I wish I was there in spite of it all, the books are going to be a total mess by the time I get back.”
Listening to Annie, I felt sorry for the injured woman. I could nearly hear the pain she was experiencing. I hoped that our work on the case would be to support her rather than trying to debunk the claim. To my ears, she was in genuine discomfort. I was confident about that.
“Do you need another pill?” Busty asked.
Even from the next room I could hear the softness in Busty’s voice, the caring she had for Annie.
“Here you go, here’s some water. Get a bit more sleep and I’ll come back later to drag your sorry butt outside,” Busty said.
Annie laughed half-heartedly. “Sounds good, B.”
There were some muffled sounds as if Busty was moving some things around in Annie’s room, and then I heard the bedroom door softly close.
I dropped my twisted up ponytail when Busty walked back into the bathroom. She held another box of Band-Aids in her hand and was sorting through them for the right sizes. She started to pull out a couple but then I watched as her busy hands slowed and stopped. I followed her gaze. With silent horror I saw that she was looking at a drop of bright red blood at the edge of the bathmat. My blood. I hadn’t been paying attention to my leg. Evidently it had started up bleeding again after Busty had cleaned it with peroxide. The red drop had landed in a spot that only made much sense if I’d been standing right beside the sink. Right beside the sink to open the cabinet.
Busty went to the cabinet. She opened it and placed the new box inside, but I could tell she was checking it out to see if anything had shifted since she’d left. When she turned back to face me her eyes had narrowed.
“I have a lot to do today, I think we should both be on our way,” Busty said. Her husky voice had lost the caring warmth she’d shown to Annie and gained a new layer of frost. It made my skin prickle, and not from the scratches.
She thrust the Band-Aids into my hand and then waited for me to stand up and head back down the hallway.
“Thank you, again, for your help. It was very kind of you to patch me up,” I told her.
She grabbed her studded purse and ushered me out the front door.
“Not a problem, Kate,” Busty replied. She didn’t comment or appear to notice that blood was still running down my leg.
Once Busty locked the front door, she waved goodbye without a smile.
“Bye!” I said. I kept my tone friendly and tried to act like I hadn’t noticed she’d just done a complete one eighty with her mood. I watched Busty as she took off down the street. Her long, sleek hair swung side to side, and the platform boots had an uplifting and slightly jiggling effect on her butt and breasts.
A couple in pastel colors walking their labradoodle shot Busty some surprised looks. The extreme display of cleavage was striking on its own, let alone the tattered pants and wrists full of leather and silver.
I walked along the street in the opposite direction. I figured that to stick to my story of last night’s hook-up I would have to look like I was heading to a nearby busy street to catch a bus or a cab. I didn’t have to pretend for long, though. Busty rounded the corner and stalked off out of sight.
Double-checking that the coast was clear, I walked back to my own car. Thank goodness we’d had the windows tinted. I’d left the big teleph
oto lens camera on the seat when I had to abandon the car. If Busty or anyone else had somehow got inside, we would have had massive problems.
Luckily my unlocked Prius sat seemingly undisturbed next to the brambly lot. Before I opened the driver’s side door I took one last look at the house. Along the side of the house I saw the window that must be part of Annie’s room. For a split second it looked as if someone had moved the curtain. A jolt of panic coursed through me, but the window was open slightly. It could have easily been a light breeze that made it move.
I opened the driver’s door and nearly shrieked.
“Hi there, Chance. Nice of you to stop by,” Lucky said through a full mouthful of meat, cheese, and lettuce. He grinned despite being in the process of eating. “Care for a taco?”
CHAPTER 8
Six hours and far too many tacos later, Lucky and I were back at the agency to report our surveillance findings to Harrison.
After the nerve-wracking encounter with Busty earlier that morning, the rest of the day had been uneventfully dull. There had been no sign of Annie all afternoon. Busty hadn’t returned either, but the stare she had given me when she left stuck with me all day.
The lower left side of my belly felt knotted and tight with guilt for invading Busty’s and Annie’s privacy. But wasn’t this my job? Poking and prodding into other people’s lives to learn the hard truths was what investigating was all about. My stomach sure didn’t seem to agree. I felt some relief when I saw Owen’s car pull up behind us to take over the next shift.
The three of us hadn’t risked getting out and talking to each other on the block, in case someone saw the interaction and became suspicious. Owen had sent me a text to let us know he was “in position,” to which I’d responded with a peace sign emoji before Lucky and I drove off down the block and back to the office.
Harrison sat at his desk with his lamp on. Only the setting sun from the windows outside provided any additional light in the room. Lucky flicked on one of the light switches. Harrison grimaced and squinted at us in response.
