High-Caliber Concealer (4 page)

“Pretty much. It’s really terrible,” said
Nell, sounding sad in the distant way of someone totally unrelated.
“Anyway, that was it. You should really think about the
holidays.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that, Mom,” mumbled Nikki,
still thinking about Donny. How was she going to get him out of
this mess?

Ice cream and the beach. It was a great
Sunday routine. Although, considering how rarely either of them was
in town for successive weeks, it wasn’t much of a routine. Nikki
considered every Sunday a luxury. When her phone rang, Z’ev
groaned, and flipped it over.

“It’s work,” he said, handing it to her.

“I’m ignoring it,” she said. He held the
phone out, surprise clear on his face.

“I’ll go get the ice cream,” he said, a
subtle thank you. They usually argued about who had to leave the
safety of the blanket to trek across the sand for ice cream.
“Vanilla and sprinkles?” he asked reaching into her bag for his
wallet.

“Yes, please,” said Nikki. She admired his
calves as they walked past her field of vision, then rolled over to
check out his butt as he walked away.

As soon as he was out of view, Nikki grabbed
her phone and hit call back.

“This is the Carrie Mae Foundation,” said
the polite female voice that answered on the first ring. “How can
we help you help the world?” It was the Foundation’s newest tagline
and they were repeating it into irritation.

“This is Nikki Lanier. You just called me?”
said Nikki, hoping they had something on Donny for her.

“Just one moment,” said the voice and then
Nikki heard the cheerful tones of
Blame it on the
Bossanova
, until a second voice picked up the phone.

“Voice identification, please.”

“He only does it to annoy, because he knows
it teases,” quoted Nikki.

“Thank you, Nicole.” Nikki knew that her
file must have popped up on the info tech’s computer screen. It was
the only time anyone called her Nicole. “You put a Don Fernandez
and Emmanuel Ruiz on the watch list?”

“Yes,” said Nikki.

“We have an agent removing an informant from
a dangerous situation. This person does have information about
Emmanuel Ruiz and is willing to talk to you, but briefly. They can
be at your location in two minutes, do you want a meeting?”

“Yes,” answered Nikki firmly. She stood up
and slipped into her flip-flops. Pinching the phone between her ear
and her shoulder, she tied her wrap around her waist and grabbed
the pink straw bag, heading for the parking lot.

“Transferring your call to Melissa now.”

“The GPS says I’m right on top of you, but I
could use a few more landmarks,” said a brisk voice almost
immediately.

“The parking lot south of the Ferris Wheel.
Redhead next to the blue Impala,” said Nikki, jogging to make her
statement true. She had barely arrived at the car when a low
riding, black-windowed, acid green two-door Honda Civic pulled to a
stop.

“Hey, you Nicole?” asked the driver, getting
out. She was about Nikki’s age and wore sagged Dickies and a white
tank top over a black bra.

“Melissa?” The girl nodded.

“That your car?” she asked, jerking her head
toward the Impala as she walked around to the passenger side of her
car.

“Yeah,” said Nikki, feeling the familiar
twinge of car guilt.

“Nice.”

“Thanks. Yours too.”

“What do you want to know about Emmanuel
Ruiz?” asked Melissa, pausing with her hand on the door handle.

“I don’t actually, but I have a friend who’s
an undercover cop. I think he’s in trouble and I know he’s going
after Ruiz. I need to find my friend before something happens to
him.” Melissa nodded and opened the passenger door. Sitting in the
passenger seat was a little girl of about nine or ten. She had big
dark eyes and clutched a purple backpack nervously.

“This is Elly Ruiz,” said Melissa. “She’s
going to stay with her grandparents.” The little girl nodded.

“Hi, Elly,” said Nikki softly, kneeling down
to look Elly in the eye.

“Hola
,” whispered
Elly.

“Do you know where your father is?”

“She doesn’t speak a lot of English,” said
Melissa.

“Donde està su padre,
hoy
?” asked Nikki switching languages.

“Èl va al
parque
.”

“Park?” repeated Nikki. “Which park?
Que parque
?”

“MacArthur,” said Elly. “
Por el carmelo grande
.”

“By the big candy?” asked Nikki, looking up
at Melissa in confusion. Melissa shook her head.

“Caramelo rojo
grande
,” repeated Elly, nodding. She let go of her backpack
and gestured with both hands up above her head. Suddenly Melissa
laughed.

“The Big Candy. It’s a sculpture in
MacArthur Park. Big red thing with white blobs on it. Sits up on
these stilt things. On the 6th Street side of the park.” Nikki
nodded.

“Do you know when, Elly?” asked Nikki.
“
Cuando
?”

Elly held up one hand, her fingers
spread.

“Cinco
?” asked
Nikki, and Elly nodded.

“Gracias
,” said
Nikki, leaning into the car to hug the little girl. “You were a big
help.”

“Is she going to be safe with her
grandparents?” asked Nikki, as Melissa shut the car door.

“Should be,” said Melissa. “I’ll have
someone keep tabs on her.”

“Thanks Melissa, I owe you one.”

“No sweat. I’ll call in the favor
someday.”

Melissa got back into the Honda and drove
off, the neon green car sliding along the road like a slot car,
cornering evenly and weaving in and out of traffic.

Nikki shook her head, and patted the Impala
affectionately. Walking back toward their spot on the beach, Nikki
scanned the sand, looking for Z’ev. She was nearly to the blanket
when she spotted him talking to a middle-aged guy in a straw hat,
who was almost certainly not the ice cream vendor. Nikki could tell
by the lack of an ice cream cart.

As she watched, Straw Hat handed a slip of
paper to Z’ev, who scrutinized it and then put it away in his
pocket. They shook hands and Straw Hat moved away at an easy amble,
heading in Nikki’s general direction. Nikki frowned. Z’ev was
working. She knew what working looked like and Z’ev was doing it.
He was working on their only weekend together this month! The CIA
weren’t even supposed to work inside the country.

Nikki flopped down on the blanket, fuming.
She kicked off her flip-flops and placed her bag in the original
indent it had left in the sand before her trip to the car.
Stripping off her wrap, she shoved it back into the bag, only then
noticing that Z’ev’s gun wasn’t inside. If there was any doubt
before, there wasn’t now. No one took a gun to get ice cream. He
must have gotten it when he reached in for his wallet. The fact
that she hadn’t noticed irritated Nikki even further. And now he
was going to come back and wonder why she was mad and then he would
know that she knew and then he would wonder how she knew when she
was supposed to be being lazy on the blanket.

Nikki took a deep breath and let it out
slowly. Maybe there was another explanation. She had to get over
this in a hurry. He always knew when she was mad. She just wasn’t
very good at acting. Maybe he had taken the gun out of habit. Nikki
knew that lately she felt a little defenseless when she went out
without some weaponry, and he had been in the business a lot longer
than she had. Maybe that was it. And maybe Straw Hat had been just
some guy, handing Z’ev a business card. It could happen. Nikki took
another deep breath and settled herself in a relaxed position on
the blanket. She was concentrating so hard on being calm that she
didn’t realize Z’ev was back until he dripped ice cream on her
stomach.

Nikki sat up with a small gasp as the cold
ice cream made contact with her skin.

“Oh, not funny, mister,” said Nikki reaching
for her towel.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” protested Z’ev,
but laughing while he did so.

“Sure, you didn’t,” said Nikki shooting him
an angry look over the top of her sunglasses.

“It was an accident, I swear,” said Z’ev
sitting down and handing her a vanilla cone with sprinkles and a
cherry. He was working on something with chocolate and covered in
whip cream. Nikki bit back an angry retort and accepted the ice
cream cone.

“What do you want to do about dinner?” asked
Nikki when the soothing balm of ice cream had been applied to her
tongue.

“It’s not even two yet and you’re worried
about dinner?”

“I like to plan ahead.”

“I don’t know. What do you want to do about
dinner?”

“There’s this cute little Indian place over
on West Sixth I’ve been wanting to try.”

“West Sixth, where’s that at?”

“LA proper, over by MacArthur Park.”

“Oh. Sure, sounds good.”

Nikki congratulated herself on the ease of
her maneuvering and finished off her ice cream, saving the cherry
for last.

Nikki checked her watch. She had thirty
minutes before she had to meet Z’ev. She’d lucked out when he’d
gone off to meet an old friend for “drinks.” Nikki had nodded and
pretended she believed him. Z’ev did not have old friends. Or if he
did, they certainly didn’t have his phone number or know where he
lived. He was totally, totally working. Nikki knew it shouldn’t
bother her as much as it did. After all, she was working. Why
shouldn’t he? But it grated. It grated on her that she was lying.
It grated on her that he was lying. She wondered how long they
could keep this up. She loved him, she thought he loved her, but
really… how long until their relationship became an impediment to
their jobs?

Nikki peeked through her binoculars. She was
parked across the street from the park on Alvarado. MacArthur Park
was split in two by Wilshire Boulevard and the southern half of the
park was mostly taken up by a small lake, while the northern
portion had play areas, a band stand, and a soccer field. The Red
Candy sculpture protruded from the tree line like a pink UFO.
Installed in 1987, the original bright red had faded in the sun
over the years. The park had a history of gang violence, but
stepped up police patrols in recent years had put a damper on the
violence and currently the park was filled with families, roller
skaters and dog walkers for L.A.’s lazier dog owners. The closest
group to the sculpture was a child’s birthday. One child, who
appeared to be about six, whacked away at a piñata that was almost
the same size as the little girl was and shaped like Snow White.
The family cheered her on, their claps punctuated by the sound of
the boombox pumping out Ariana Grande’s latest single.

Nikki got out of the car and began her
approach. The restaurant Z’ev had picked for dinner was only a few
blocks away. With any luck she could scoop up Donny, or at least
make sure he was all right, and be having appetizers with Z’ev in
thirty minutes.

She walked past the drinks table of the
birthday party and scooped up a six pack of soda—just in case, then
spotted Donny’s group through the trees. They were loud and
boisterous. Apex predators of the human world didn’t need to wear
camouflage, in fact it paid to advertise. They quieted down as they
approached the candy sculpture. Another group was already waiting
for them. Nikki couldn’t say for sure, but from the tattoos she
suspected they were Crazy Town Locos. She slipped a little closer,
comforted by the heavy weight of the Sig Sauer on her hip.

The gangs were squaring off when she saw
Z’ev approaching from the opposite direction. Nikki wanted to react
to that, but Donny was already moving. He approached the front man
of the Crazy Town Locos, a tough looking guy with a buzz cut, a
neck tattoo, and a black duffle bag. Donny carried a matching
bag.

Z’ev caught sight of her and glared. He made
go away gestures and Nikki shook her head. He made more emphatic
gestures and Nikki shook her head again. The silent argument might
have kept going, but they both saw the surreptitious movement at
the back of the pack of Crazy Town Locos. Guns were coming out.
Instinctively Nikki reached for her gun, then realized Z’ev was
going to see whatever she did. Time for the back-up plan.

Nikki ran out into the circle of men just as
the first gun man stepped forward. Breaking off one of the soda
cans, she hurled it through the air, where it impacted against his
forehead in a spray of dark brown soda. She continued running as
the man talking to Donny reached toward his waistband. Swinging the
remaining five cans on their plastic tether she smashed them into
his face. The gang member crumpled to the ground, as they connected
with his temple before bouncing off in all directions.

“Move your ass, Donny!” she yelled,
continuing across the clearing toward Z’ev. Donny snatched up the
other man’s duffle bag and ran after her.

Z’ev had his gun out, covering their exit.
He pointed emphatically toward the right and Nikki did as directed;
taking an erratic course through the underbrush, looping back
toward the play area.

“Gun! Gun! Gun!” she screamed, running at
the child’s birthday party. There were screams as people took up
her refrain. Parents snatched up children and began to run from the
park. There was a blare of sirens from behind them on Wilshire, but
Nikki kept running. Scooping up the Snow White
piñata
, she turned to Z’ev who was already taking off
his jacket and wrapping it around the piñata. Nikki huddled closer
to him as they ran; blending in among the other parents hauling
children away from the park. Once they were across the street and
it seemed clear that no one was following them, Nikki dropped the
piñata in the nearest trashcan.