High-Caliber Concealer (3 page)

Gliding into LA proper with the top down on
the sky-blue Chevy Impala, Nikki enjoyed the sunny Sunday morning
and lack of traffic. She thought again about selling the car. It
was a gas-guzzler, had a turning radius of a city block, and still
smelled faintly of Val’s cigarettes and perfume. It was damaging,
old-fashioned, and unnecessarily flashy. Basically, it was the car
version of Valerie Robinson. But she loved that Z’ev had laughed
out loud when he’d seen it for the first time and then wanted to
drive. She loved that she got nods from the homeboys when she was
out. To be perfectly honest, she loved the car. Nikki cranked the
radio loud enough to be heard over the rushing wind and put her
foot down on the gas.

“I’m just not ready to let you go,” said
Nikki and patted the dash, so she could pretend she was talking to
the car.

Nikki pulled up in front of a towering,
glass-faced office building that was the west-coast headquarters of
the Carrie Mae Foundation, and then turned down into the parking
garage underneath the building. Even on a Sunday morning, there
were a few cars in the parking garage but Nikki recognized Rachel
White’s new, red, VW bug with the Ben Hur style rims. Rachel ran
the research and development department, more commonly known as
Wonderland, in the basement of Carrie Mae. Nikki made a mental note
to pop down and thank her for the acetylene torch / hairspray can.
It had worked really well in the field.

Nikki walked into the front lobby and
flashed her ID badge at the security guard, who smiled and waved in
recognition. She walked past the honor wall. Discreet brass plaques
with the names of fallen agents were stacked in an even grid from
the floor to mid-way up the wall. As usual, Nikki reached out and
touched Val’s plaque. She’d accrued a lot of debt when she’d asked
to have Val’s name put on the wall, but she didn’t think that
twenty years of service, of being the biggest badass in the
company, should be wiped out by a couple of months of stupid
decisions. She’d learned a few things about Val when she’d taken
possession of the car—things she hadn’t told anyone—and so she
touched the plaque to remind herself not be that stupid and to
strive to be that great. And to make sure no one removed the
plaque.

Nikki was reaching for the elevator button
when she heard the traditional ding and the elevator doors opened.
Rachel and Jane were standing in the elevator laughing. They both
had the rumpled, slightly bleary look of people who’d been up all
night, but they were laughing hysterically.

“Nikki!” exclaimed Jane. “Redhead!” That
sent Rachel into a fresh gust of laughter.

“Yes,” agreed Nikki, trying to fathom what
was so funny. “I’ve been that way for awhile now.” Jane giggled
again, but Rachel made an effort to pull herself together.

“Sorry, Nikki, I think,” Rachel paused to
chuckle at Jane’s laughter. “I think,” she continued, “that we may
have gotten a bit of laughing gas off Experiment-217. What are you
doing here on a Sunday?”

“I was about to ask you guys the same
thing,” said Nikki, stepping into the elevator. “But I’m glad you
are. I need to find someone, fast.” Nikki pushed the button for the
seventh floor and Jane groaned.

“No, Nikki. We’ve just finished and were
going out to breakfast,” wailed Jane.

“It’ll only take a minute,” soothed Nikki.
Jane crossed her arms and leaned dejectedly against the elevator
wall.

“It had better be only a minute,” she
muttered. “I’m hungry.”

“Well, I haven’t had breakfast yet either,”
said Nikki. “And besides, I’ve got Z’ev at home. I can’t take too
long.”

“Yeah?” said Rachel perking up. “You’re
still seeing Mr. CIA?”

Nikki nodded.

“You gonna tell him about Carrie Mae?”

“She can’t!” said Jane, shocked. “She
wouldn’t! You won’t, will you?”

Nikki shook her head.

“You can’t trust boys. Remember that.”

Nikki chuckled. “You sound like my
mother.”

“Well,” interjected Rachel, “then they’re
both paranoid. It’s the CIA part of him I’d be worrying about.”

“Can we keep it down?” asked Nikki, looking
pained. “Darla hasn’t figured out I’m dating a CIA agent yet, and
I’m not really looking to explain it to her, if you know what I
mean.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I hear you.
Fortunately, Miss Utah isn’t in the building. I swear, I cannot
wait for Mrs. Merrivel to get back. The girls down in research were
thinking about sending Mr. Merrivel a get-well-soon card, but I was
wondering if maybe we couldn’t maybe come up with something a
little more useful. He had heart surgery, right? Was it a pacemaker
thing? We could probably come up with a really great pacemaker if I
had the girls think about it seriously.”

“Mrs. Merrivel will be back when Mr.
Merrivel gets better—and no, you cannot put an experimental
pacemaker in his chest.” Nikki tried to sound calm. Sometimes
Rachel was a little too certain that her gadgets were awesome.
“Meanwhile, can you give Darla a chance? She’s actually got some
good ideas.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “All of her ideas
seem to involve cutting my budget.”

“If all of Darla’s ideas are so great, why
are you sneaking into the building for illicit use of resources,”
said Jane. “You wouldn’t have to do that with Mrs. M.”

“I’ve had several years to build up a
rapport with Mrs. M,” said Nikki. “I want to work with Darla, but I
also want to save lives. So, we’ll just not mention this little
excursion, OK?”

Jane laughed, as the elevator slowed to a
halt. “OK. So, who are we trying to find?”

“An old friend of mine I bumped into last
night,” answered Nikki, reaching for the emergency phone.

“Speak roughly to your little boy, and beat
him when he sneezes,” said Nikki into the red phone and she heard
the faint click that told her that the password was being
processed. The weekly passwords were always quotes from Alice in
Wonderland and Nikki’s copy of Alice had begun to look rather
well-thumbed as she had taken on the habit of looking up the
quotes.

“I think he’s in trouble,” Nikki continued,
returning to her conversation with Jane.

As they navigated the maze of cubicles
toward Nikki’s desk, Nikki told Jane and Rachel about her encounter
with Donny.

“Hmm,” said Jane, seating herself at Nikki’s
desk and logging on to the computer. “Give me a second.” Jane’s
fingers flew across the keyboard and Rachel lounged in the cubicle
entrance, watching with interest.

“Wow,” said Jane, frowning at the computer
screen, “Tacoma’s police computer system is complete crap. I don’t
know why police departments insist on hiring former officers in
their tech departments. Give me a minute while I break down this
firewall.” Jane typed a bit more, her eyebrows going up in a sharp
“V” of concentration.

“OK, it should be printing out now,” said
Jane, hitting the enter button. Rachel walked away and then came
out with a printout with Donny’s picture on it.

“He looks nice,” said Rachel, looking at the
picture. Nikki leaned over Rachel’s shoulder and read the paper.
Donny did look nice. His picture was a crisp, clean-cut, by the
book, police department photo.

“He’s investigating someone named Emmanuel
Ruiz,” said Nikki, reading from the print out, and Jane nodded.

“I’m looking him up now,” said Jane,
pointing at the screen. “Drug runner. I-5 corridor. Not a nice
man.”

“Current address?” asked Nikki.

“Last known was here in LA, but it says it’s
no longer active,” said Jane and Nikki sighed in frustration.

“Donny probably is fine, but I’d feel better
if I could go and ask him myself. You know?”

“Well,” said Jane, “do you want me to leave
this on the watch list for the next shift? They can call you if
anything pops up on the grid or if they get anything on the police
scanners. It’s probably a misuse of company resources, but I doubt
Darla will notice.” Jane typed in a work order and emailed it.
“So,” said Jane, slapping her hands together and rubbing them
together. “Where we going for breakfast?”

“Some place that serves Bloody Marys,” said
Rachel, leading the way back toward the elevator.

“I’m with you there,” answered Jane, “but I
want pancakes too. How about you, Nikki?”

“Pancakes and alcohol - it’s working for me.
There’s an IHOP around here somewhere, isn’t there? Or a Denny’s.
They have a bar, right?”

“I think so, but wherever you want to go is
fine, ‘cause I figure you’re buying.”

“I’m buying?” asked Nikki in mocking
disbelief.

“You held up my breakfast for a whole twenty
minutes,” said Jane. “And you made me work on a Sunday. You owe
us.”

“Oh, fine.” Nikki shook her head as though
the entire affair was a huge trial. “The things I do for my
friends.” Just then, Nikki’s cell phone began to trumpet the
William Tell Overture
.

“High-ho, Silver, and away!” yelled Jane, as
Nikki reached for her phone.

“It must be Z’ev,” said Rachel.

“How could you tell?” asked Nikki startled,
pausing with her finger over the answer button.

“Nobody gets that moony over a Lone Ranger
song if it isn’t their boyfriend,” Rachel said. And Nikki finished
answering the phone with a chuckle in her voice.

“Hey!” she said cheerfully.

“Hey, yourself,” said Z’ev, and Nikki could
hear the smile in his voice. “I thought you weren’t working this
weekend.”

“I had a thought,” said Nikki. “And I
couldn’t fall back asleep.”

He laughed. “A thought, huh? You couldn’t
just write it down and wait till Monday?”

“Hey, I have to act on these things before
they go away.”

“Well, how about having the thought of
coming home for breakfast?”

“Oh. Breakfast.” Nikki looked guiltily at
Rachel and Jane, who were maintaining carefully neutral
expressions. “Um…”

“Um…” repeated Z’ev.

“I kind of promised to buy Jane and Rachel
pancakes. I kind of owe them for helping me out this morning.”

“I’ll make pancakes,” volunteered Z’ev.
“Bring them over.”

“Really?” asked Nikki surprised. He usually
wasn’t huge in the meet and greet department.

“Yeah, sure. I mean, I’ll have to put on
pants, but for your friends I’ll make the effort.”

Nikki laughed out loud. “Well that makes me
feel special,” she said. “But the real question is, do we have
anything to make Bloody Marys out of?”

“Um…” she could hear him opening cupboards
in the background and the slight unsuctioning sound as the fridge
door opened. “We will if you stop at the store for the vegetables
and tomato juice on the way home.”

“So, in fact that would be a no?” asked
Nikki and gestured Rachel and Jane into the elevator as it
arrived.

“Well, you have vodka, so I say it’s a
yes.”

“Right, so I’ll stop at the store and be
home in a bit.”

“Cool. I’ll start on the pancakes.”

“‘Kay. Bye.”

“Love you. Bye,” he answered and Nikki
flipped her phone shut.

“New plan, ladies,” said Nikki. “Pancakes
and Bloody Marys are going to be served at the International House
of Nikki.”

“IHON?” asked Jane. “Doesn’t have the same
ring.”

“You could go with IHOZ,” said Rachel.

“International House of Z’ev?” asked Jane.
“Yeah, that does sound better.”

Nikki’s phone rang again and Nikki sighed as
Patsy Cline’s
Crazy
filled the air.

“Isn’t that your mom’s new ring tone?” asked
Jane. “Are you going to answer that?”

“Yes,” said Nikki reluctantly picking up the
phone. “Hi mom.”

“Oh, you’re up,” said her mom, sounding
surprised. “I was going to leave you a message.”

“Well, now you can tell me,” said Nikki
trying not to be annoyed.

“Well, first of all,” her mom’s voice
switched tones slightly veering into the planning voice, “we need
to talk about the holidays.”

“The holidays? Mom, it’s the middle of
summer.”

“The perfect time to start watching those
holiday air fares. Plus, I talked to your grandmother and she
really wants us to come home this year. And I thought you might
want to invite Z’ev.”

“Uh…” said Nikki. She hadn’t been expecting
the conversation to go straight to the dating side. “I’m not sure
we’re there yet.”

“You’re twenty-six, Nicole. You’d better
start thinking about being there. Besides, you’ve been living
together for over a year.”

“Uh, I’ll think about it,” said Nikki.
Thinking about that was about the last thing she wanted to do, but
a flat refusal would only make the nagging worse. “Is that all you
were going to leave a message about?”

“Oh, no, I was going to tell you about your
grandmother.”

“You already said, Mom. She wants us to come
home.”

“Yeah, that. No, I was going to tell you
what she said about Donny Fernandez. You remember your friend from
elementary school?”

Nikki felt her heart freeze.

“What about Donny, Mom?”

“Apparently, he joined the police force down
in Tacoma. Can’t think why anyone lives there. Only now, he’s
missing!”

“Missing?” repeated Nikki.

“Oh yes,” said Nell, relishing the details.
“Apparently, a policewoman came out to see his mom last week to
explain that Donny is missing. Has been missing for weeks. He went
undercover in a combined police DEA operation and they lost track
of him.”

“Are you supposed to know about the thing
with the DEA?”

“Well, they had to tell his mother. And
Grandma said it was top secret and I wasn’t to tell anyone, but who
are you going to tell? Anyway,” Nell continued, sounding blasé on
the subject, “if he doesn’t turn up soon, the department’s going to
hold a funeral. It’s a tragedy.”

“His mom and sisters must be freaking out,”
said Nikki.