High-Caliber Concealer (33 page)

Nikki felt the blood drain from her face.
She felt adrenaline hit her blood stream and her heart speed up. To
compensate, she sat even more still. Adrenaline could make you
panic, drive you into flight or fight. Now was not the time for
either. Now was the time to make a careful plan.

“Oh, crap,” said Jane, her hands flying up
to cover her mouth. “He’s going to be buried next to Luis.”

“Who’s Luis?” asked Ellen.

“I don’t know,” said Jane, “But Donny’s
going to end up buried next to him if we don’t do something fast.
Crap, crap, crap! Nikki, what do we do?”

Nikki felt the group’s attention shift to
her like a weight on her shoulders. What she wouldn’t give for a
real vacation where someone else was in charge and made all the
decisions. She reached over and took Jackson’s coffee cup to buy
herself a little more time. “OK,” she said, taking a sip. She
needed to do a few things. She needed to find out if Donny was
still alive. She needed to find out where he was being held. And
she needed to get Jenny working on an extraction plan. But most of
all she needed to get rid of Jackson and Z’ev.

“I think Jackson and Z’ev should –”

“No,” said Z’ev, folding his arms across his
chest.

“You haven’t even heard what I was going to
say.”

“I don’t need to hear what you’re going to
say,” said Z’ev. “I’ve had enough. The rubber is meeting the road.
Either I’m in or I call my friends at the DEA.”

“How far away are your friends at the DEA?”
asked Nikki, hoping for a life-line. Maybe the DEA could solve all
her problems at once.

“About three hours,” said Z’ev.

“Nikki, I don’t think he has that long,”
said Jane quietly.

“He could already be dead,” said Nikki. “We
don’t know.”

“Nikki!” Jackson took his coffee cup back.
“What the hell are you talking about? What is going on? And for the
record, I’m with
Es Grande
; I’m not going
anywhere.”

Nikki sighed, weighing her options. Nikki
looked from Jane to Jenny to Ellen. Ellen shrugged fatalistically
and Jenny nodded. Whole truth, half-truth, quarter truth? Of
course, the answer was never whole truth.

“You remember Ylina? The girl we met at the
bar.”

“Yes, what’s she got to with anything?”

“I ran into her last night and—”

“When?” demanded Z’ev. “I was with you the
whole night.”

“When I was chasing Jackson. I cut through
the junkyard and ran into her.”

“That is cheating!” Jackson was
outraged.

“Of course, it’s cheating. How else was I
going to catch you? Can we focus? Anyway, Ylina gave me a thumb
drive. She said it was her insurance policy.” Jane began to
studiously study her nail polish, which for Jenny and Ellen was a
dead giveaway that Nikki was lying. “When I went to return it to
her today I found out that she’d been killed.”

“Seriously?” Jackson looked shocked.

“Yes, and when Jane and I opened the thumb
drive we found audio recordings that prove that Sheriff Merv Smalls
is the head of the organization smuggling pot South out of
Canada.”

“Holy crap,” said Jackson, unconsciously
echoing Jane.

“And if Donny has gone to tell the Sheriff
that he knows about half of the smuggling operation, how long do
you think Donny’s life expectancy is?”

“Not three hours,” said Z’ev. “Will state
police mobilize on a tip any faster?”

“Not from some random group of women. What
about someone from the, uh, government?”

“Nikki, I’m fairly certain you’ve told
Jenny, Ellen, and Jane I work for the CIA. I appreciate the
pretense, but it would make the conversation a lot quicker if we
skipped the ambiguity.”

“You work for the CIA? Holy crap! Who are
you people?”

“Jackson, you may not have picked the best
morning for a hangover,” said Nikki, patting him on the shoulder.
“Sorry.”

“Meanwhile, we need to come up with a plan.”
Z’ev paced from the car to the porch and back. Nikki watched him
with affection. Jane and the girls seemed puzzled. “OK, I think you
girls should stay here, while—“

Z’ev’s comments were cut off by a hysterical
laugh from Jenny. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said, still laughing.
“That was really funny right then. Nikki, what do you want to
do?”

They were staring at her. More specifically,
Z’ev was staring at her. She was stuck. Whatever she said next was
going to reveal a lot to him. Her choices were to help Donny or
preserve Carrie Mae’s secret from her CIA agent boyfriend. And
neither of those choice probably included an option for preserving
her relationship. She was at the edge of the cliff and one way or
another she was going down. Her only real choices were to see if
she was going to slip and fall or go off in a swan dive. What had
Jane said? Nikki likes to swan?

“Call the sheriff,” said Nikki. “Offer a
swap. The thumb drive for Donny.”

“We can’t give him the evidence!” said
Jackson.

“Jane will upload it to the cloud or
whatever and send it to Z’ev’s DEA friends. I think we should still
call them in for back-up. But I don’t think we can wait for them.
The cloud is a thing, right Jane?”

Z’ev wasn’t saying anything. That probably
wasn’t a good sign.

“Well, it is a thing, sort of. It’s a little
more complicated than that.” Jane had the uncomfortable look she
wore when something Nikki said was a total misrepresentation of
what she did.

“You know how I feel about complicated,”
said Nikki, and Jane sighed.

“You don’t care as long as it gets done.”
Jane trudged up the stairs, past Jackson. “Jackson, what’s your
wi-fi password?”

“I don’t have a wi-fi password,” said
Jackson. Jane looked slightly ill. “Who’s going to steal my wi-fi?
The cows?”

“OK, well, give me a few minutes, then,
Z’ev, I’ll need some contact info for your DEA friends.”

“Before you do that, can you look up the
sheriff’s number?” asked Nikki.

“I can do that,” said Jackson.

“You have the sheriff’s number?”

“No, I have the Kaniksu Falls telephone
book.” Jackson reached down and removed a slim volume from under
the leg of the table next to him. They all stared at the telephone
book and Nikki poked it suspiciously with one finger.

“Is it really accurate? It has actual phone
numbers?”

“Yeah. They update it every three
years.”

“That’s weird.”

“You’re only saying that because you live in
a city where it’s weird to know your neighbors.” Jackson flipped
through until he found the page he was looking for. “There you go,
Merv Smalls, address and home phone number.”

“You know, even if he agrees to the trade,
he’s not going to let Donny live,” said Ellen.

“Or anyone else he thinks might be a
threat,” said Z’ev.

“Yeah, I do know. But he only knows about
me. He might suspect that I’ll bring Jackson in, but the rest of
you are going to be a complete surprise.” Nikki dialed the number
and waited. On the fourth ring, someone picked up.

“Yeah,” said a male voice.

“This is Nikki Lanier. I need to speak to
Merv Smalls about Ylina.”

“He’s busy.”

“Is this Pedro? Pedro, put the sheriff on
the phone or I’ll drive out there and break your nose again.”

There was a pause. “Give me a minute.”

There was rustling and some distant, muffled
yelling.

“Ms. Lanier, this is a surprise,” said the
sheriff. “I was under the impression that you would be headed back
to LA by now.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” said Nikki. “But I
had to stop by Crazy Cooter’s and pick up a few of Ylina’s
things.”

“I see,” said Merv. “I didn’t realize the
two of you were that close.”

“We weren’t, but it’s funny how no one in
this town really likes you. Crazy Cooter didn’t mind if I went
through Ylina’s computer or took the thumb drive she left. You
know, the one with all the recordings she made of you and your
friends.”

The sheriff was silent for a long moment.
“What do you want?”

“I want Donny Fernandez back in one
piece.”

“And are you suggesting that some sort of
mutually beneficial arrangement could be made?”

“If Donny is still alive, then yes.”

She heard the sound of dragging. “Say hello
to your friend,” said the Sheriff.

“Hi,” said Donny. There was a smacking
noise.

“A little bit more, please,” said the
Sheriff.

“Go fuck yourself,” said Donny, his tone was
flat and angry, but still definitely Donny.

“Donny, hang in there. I’ll get you out of
this.”

“Mr. Fernandez doesn’t look too confident,”
said the sheriff.

“Mr. Fernandez just has to stay alive.”

“And how do I know that you haven’t made
copies of the recordings?” asked the Sheriff reasonably.

“It’s six gigs of data,” said Nikki. “I
don’t have anything to copy it to or with and I certainly haven’t
had the time. The thumb drive is the only copy.”

“And you’re the only one who knows about
it?”

“Did my father talk when you stole his
operation out from under him?”

The sheriff laughed. “No, he didn’t. Of
course, he was worried that I’d go up to your grandma’s house and
discover a robbery gone wrong and all of you would end up dead. He
didn’t have much incentive to talk.”

“I have the same amount of incentive,” said
Nikki. “Let’s make a trade and then everybody can go back to their
lives.”

“Sounds fair to me. When and where?”

“Crazy Cooter’s, tonight. 7:00
p.m
.”

“Too close to the Fernandez estate. I don’t
need a horde of crazy Mexican’s butting in on my business.”

“They’ll all be in Spokane for his cousin’s
Quinceañera
,” said Nikki. “They leave at
six.”

“You seem so up to date on the comings and
goings of our little town,” said Merv. “I’d say you really seem to
fit in here, except of course, you don’t.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be heading out of town as
soon as I have Donny.”

“I’m counting on it,” said the Sheriff. “See
you at seven.”

Nikki hung up the phone and considered
throwing it across the lawn. “I want to punch that man in the
throat. Jenny, how are you feeling about Crazy Cooter’s
strategically?”

“It’s good,” said Jenny, nodding. “River
access, in case we want to get creative with a boat. Lots of good
hidey-holes for Ellen, but also some good open spaces and lines of
sight. I can start working on an exit strategy.”

“Good. Ellen what have we got in the way of
equipment?”

“Not a damn thing,” said Ellen making a
face.

“I brought my Borg cube!” yelled Jane from
inside.

“You brought the whole basic kit?” Ellen
yelled back. “Weren’t you supposed to turn that in when we were put
on leave?”

“Yeah, but I have two because I was doing
some testing for Rachel. So I only turned in one.”

“That’s why we love you, Jane,” yelled
Jenny.

“Well, we’ve got Jane’s make-up kit, so that
should get us started. We’re short on guns though. What did you
pack—the 1911?” asked Ellen.

“The SIG.”

“I’ve got a Glock and SIG P226,” said
Z’ev.

“Ooh, classic!” said Jenny. “Although, what
is it with you and Nikki and the SIGs? Branch out, people.”

“I didn’t realize we both carried SIG’s,”
said Z’ev quietly.

“It’d be nice to have a rifle,” said Ellen
wistfully.

“What I wouldn’t give to have Freddy with
us,” said Jenny, sadly.

“I have a rifle I use for deer hunting,”
said Jackson. “I don’t know if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take a look,” said Ellen.

“Someone in town has an AK-47,” said Nikki.
“I saw the casings up at the quarry. I know it’s not Freddy, but
maybe we could find out who and borrow it.”

“That seems like it might be over the top,”
said Z’ev.

“Over the top?” said Nikki, “Or really, just
the right amount?”

“That’s probably Bill Bartlby,” said
Jackson. “I can call him and see if he’ll lend it to us.”

“What does he do?” asked Nikki.

“Raises cows,” said Jackson.

“Then what does he need an AK-47 for?” asked
Ellen.

“So he can shoot it,” said Jackson, with a
shrug.

“I’m just not OK with that,” said Ellen. “I
really think those things should be more carefully licensed.”

“They are carefully licensed,” said Jenny.
“Laws do not stop people from doing things they want to do.”

“But the threat of punishment does,” said
Ellen. “And you can’t punish someone without a law saying that
something is wrong. And what are people doing with assault rifles
that is totally reasonable?”

“Shooting targets is totally reasonable,”
said Jenny. “And only two percent of crimes are committed with
assault rifles. I know lots of people who own assault rifles.
Rifles are not the problem.”

“You mean you’re related to lots of people
who own assault rifles. And having met some of your relatives, I
don’t think I’m comfortable with that.”

“Hey, just because I happen to have some
cracker, confederate flag-flying relatives that collectively have
got the common sense of a single fruit fly and like to get drunk on
Saturday night, does not mean that owning assault rifles is a bad
idea. Because sadly, I don’t think they can make a law that only
excludes drunk jackasses and I don’t think the rest of us want our
civil liberties decided based on a survey of my relatives.”

“Jenny’s the one who steals my gun catalogs,
isn’t she?” asked Z’ev.

“Yes,” lied Nikki.

“Besides,” continued Jenny, “You’re the one
who just love, love, loves her Mauser.”

“And my Barrett and my Dragunov. Doesn’t
mean I want other people to have them.”

“Ellen has a Dragunov?” Z’ev looked
impressed.