High-Caliber Concealer (34 page)

“Ladies,” said Nikki, clearing her throat.
Z’ev’s commentary was making her nervous. “Let’s resolve one of the
thorny issues of the twenty-first century at a time when Donny’s
life is not on the line.”

“Right.” Ellen refocused and looked at
Jackson and Z’ev, slightly embarrassed.

“I’m going inside to work on our exit plan,”
said Jenny, lifting her chin and heading for the house. Her
dignified exit was somewhat spoiled as she caught her toe on the
lip of the stairs and stumbled slightly. Jackson caught her by the
arm and pulled her back to upright. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” huffed
Jenny, turning bright pink and hurrying into the house.

“So what I was saying,” said Ellen. “was
that we have Jane’s kit. Three handguns, a deer hunting rifle, and
possibly a AK-47 that we can borrow.”

“My grandma has a Smith & Wesson
revolver we can also probably borrow,” said Nikki.

“OK,” said Ellen with a shrug. “That’s four
hand guns and two rifles. There’s six of us, so I guess that works
out. How much ammo do we have?”

“How much ammo do we need?” asked Jackson.
“Nikki, are you sure about this? Merv Smalls has been the sheriff
here for five years. Do we really think he’s going to kill Donny? I
mean, Donny’s a cop. You really think he’s going to risk killing a
cop?”

“Yes, I do,” said Nikki. “I think he’ll
really kill Donny. Just like I think he really killed Ylina. Just
like I think he really killed whoever Luis was. He’s been using
illegal immigrants to smuggle pot because he knows they’re
vulnerable and he knows that if they go missing no one will ask
questions. Merv Smalls is not a nice man. He has over a decade
invested in this scheme and if you think he’s going to roll over
and give in just because Donny is a cop, you’re mistaken. Something
needs to be done.”

“OK,” said Jackson nodding. “But are you the
one to do it? Shouldn’t we let someone else handle it? Someone with
more…”

“Someone with more what?” asked Nikki.
“Testicles?”

“I was thinking credentials,” said
Jackson.

“Relax, Jackson,” said Ellen, climbing the
stairs, and going into the house. “This is what we do.”

“Is it?” said Z’ev. “Because honestly,
that’s what I’ve always wanted to know. Just what is it that the
four of you do?”

“We work for Carrie Mae,” said Nikki
helplessly, knowing that he’d never believe the truth.

She could feel Z’ev carefully not talking to
her as she loaded her gun and checked her extra magazine. She and
Ellen had stolen a quick, whispered conference in the bathroom at
Jackson’s house.

“We’ll tell him that we’re private security
for Carrie Mae because Carrie Mae has branches all over the world.
That works, right? I mean, it’s even sort of true. From a certain
perspective.”

Nikki had nodded. It might almost work. He
was still going to ask why she hadn’t told him.

She stole a glance at him through the racks
of clothes in her bedroom. “Thanks for doing this,” she said to
Z’ev.

“Helping rescue Donny? What am I supposed to
do—let him get killed and you get killed trying to stop it?”

“Nobody’s getting killed,” said Nikki. “It’s
going to be fine.”

Z’ev finished strapping on the P226 and
handed her his Glock and extra magazines. “You keep saying that,
but I’m not sure what you’re basing it on.”

Nikki felt herself bristle. She was good at
her job. If she could take down Val Robinson or keep Kit Masters
from getting himself killed, she was pretty sure that she could put
the kibosh on a small time sheriff in a small time town in the
middle of nowhere. But she couldn’t say any of that. She opened her
mouth and shut again, swallowing her pride, and turning back to her
gun.

“Nothing? Can you just say something?”
demanded Z’ev. “Anything that makes this somewhat OK?”

Nikki took a deep breath. She needed to say
something. She could see it in his face. She had to say something
or she was going to lose him. This was it. She was going to do it.
Now or never. Time to jump.

“Nikki?” Nell opened the door, her face
tear-stained, and a Kleenex clutched in one hand. She looked from
Z’ev, with his gun strapped to his leg, to Nikki with the Glock in
one hand and the SIG on her waist, and froze.

“I cannot catch a break today,” said
Nikki.

“Nikki, what’s going on?” asked Nell.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” said Nikki, pushing her
back into the hall. “We have to go help Donny right now.”

“But, but,” Nell trailed after them bubbling
like a steam trolley. “I don’t approve of guns.”

“I picked up your grandma’s gun,” said Jane,
from the foot of the stairs. “And the holster, speed loader, and a
box of bullets. Do we need anything else?”

“But,” said Nell staring at the gun in
Jane’s hand.

“Nope, a break cannot be caught,” said
Z’ev.

“I give up,” said Nikki.

“Might as well,” said Z’ev.

“Mom, I love you. We’re leaving now. We’ll
talk when we get back. If you want to fight some more with Grandma
while we’re gone, you should ask her why she hasn’t told us she’s
dating Jorge.”

“Your grandmother is dating Jorge?” Nell’s
eyes snapped away from the gun and to Nikki’s face.

“I saw them making out,” said Nikki. “You
should go ask her about it.”

“Oh, you bet I will.” Nell was already
stomping back up the stairs.

“I can’t believe that worked,” said Z’ev,
scratching his chin.

“She gets focused on the small stuff when
she can’t deal with big stuff,” said Nikki.

“Are we leaving now?” asked Jane. She was
carrying the gun in one hand and her case of Carrie Mae products in
the other.

“We’re leaving,” agreed Nikki. “Where are
the girls?”

“Jackson and Ellen are already on the road
and I think Jenny’s in the car.”

“Great, let’s go.”

“That’s a lot of make-up,” said Z’ev.

“Well, you know, it always pays to look
good,” said Jane uncomfortably, hurrying to avoid eye contact.

The drive over to Crazy Cooter’s was silent.
Nikki wanted to say something, but couldn’t find any words to say.
She really didn’t have anything that would make all of this in
anyway ‘OK’.”

Crazy Cooter was driving a riding lawn mower
with the mower removed through the compound when they arrived. He’d
hitched a little wagon to it and stacked the wagon full of gallon
jugs of water.

“You’re back,” he said frowning.

“We ran into a slight problem,” said Nikki.
“The sheriff kidnapped Donny Fernandez.”

Cooter gaped. “But what do we do? We can’t
call the cops.”

“I’ve arranged a trade,” said Nikki, “but it
would be better if you weren’t here.”

“I can’t leave,” said Cooter. “They’ve got a
fire watch across the river. All it takes is one airborne spark and
this place would go up like a can of napalm. I need to wet down the
grass and clear the brush and…” He trailed off, looking at Nikki’s
face. “OK, I’ll go.” It took five minutes for Cooter to pack up and
chug away down the road in a car that looked like it had been put
together from junkyard rejects.

The dust had barely settled when Ellen and
Jackson walked out of the freezer section. Ellen had Jackson’s
hunting rifle strapped to her back. Jackson was carrying Bill
Bartlby’s AK. Nikki liked it when Ellen went into shooting mode.
She ditched her teacher’s wife pose all together and the aviator
sunglasses came out. The billowy skirts and scarves were removed,
her hair got pulled back and suddenly it was like Ellen came into
focus. She looked cool. Nikki tried not to say it, because she knew
it made Ellen feel old, but she wanted to be like Ellen when she
grew up.

“We look clear over here,” said Ellen. “I
think we’ve beat them here.”

“Good,” said Nikki.

“OK, Ladies,” said Jane, opening the make-up
case. “Here are your ear pieces.” She held out her hand with what
appeared to be two sets of butterfly earrings.

“Oh, no. Really?” Ellen made a disgusted
face. “Those Mark-4’s are so crappy!”

“I know, but I had to turn in the good kit,”
said Jane apologetically. “Sorry. This is what we have.”

Ellen sighed and picked up an earring. “It’s
not your fault we got suspended. It’s mine. We’re extremely lucky
you managed to keep any equipment at all. Thanks for looking after
us.”

Jane looked startled and pleased. “You’re
welcome,” she said, then cleared her throat awkwardly. “Anyway,
sync them to your phones.” Nikki and Jenny each took an earring and
Nikki moved one of the diamond studs Z’ev had given her up to the
second hole in her ear and replaced it with the butterfly. Her
phone took a second to sync, but then it went live.

“I give myself very good advice, but I very
seldom follow it,” quoted Jenny.

“Imagination is the only weapon in the war
against reality,” replied Jane.

“I knew who I was this morning, but I’ve
changed a few times since then,” said Ellen, which was her favorite
quote to test with.

“We’re all mad here,” said Nikki, with a
little more sincerity than usual.

“Loud and clear on all frequencies,” said
Jane, giving them the thumbs up.

“I get the feeling they’ve done this
before,” said Jackson.

“Mm,” said Z’ev. “So do I.”

Jane began to pull out the telescoping
shelves of the make-up kit. “Jenny, the guns are in the bag in the
back seat, if you want to take your pick.”

Jenny opened the bag and then squealed in
delight. “Oh, my God, is this your grandma’s gun? It’s so
adorable.” She held up the .357 Smith & Wesson. “Look at the
engraving. I love it. It’s a real live cowboy gun. And it has its
own tooled leather holster.” She hopped up and down a little in
excitement. “Jackson, you can have the Glock.”

“I’m not taking a handgun,” said Jackson. “I
don’t know how to shoot.”

Jenny looked as if Jackson had announced he
was gay. “But, but, you have the rifle.”

“Because I hunt deer that I later eat,” said
Jackson. “I’m not planning on eating any people, so I don’t plan on
shooting any people.”

Ellen snorted. “Jackson, you’re breaking her
heart.”

“I didn’t say she couldn’t shoot people, but
I’ve never learned how to shoot handguns,” he held up his hand as
Jenny’s face lit up. “And I’m not particularly interested in
learning. I’m only here to get Donny out, remember? I’ll be the
wheelman, or the muscle, or whatever else you need, but I don’t
really think you should trust me with a gun.”

“He’s right,” said Nikki. “If he doesn’t
already know, then it’s too late to be teaching him. It’d be a
waste of ammo.”

“That’s hardly a rousing vote of confidence
for your friend,” said Z’ev, looking offended on Jackson’s
behalf.

Nikki blinked. She’d forgotten he was there.
He was doing his fly on the wall thing, which he was surprisingly
good at for being so big. “I have every confidence in Jackson to do
what he’s good at. He’s told me his limitations and I’d be an idiot
not to respect that. We have limited resources and I need to put
every bullet where I know it’s going to count.”

“People can’t grow if you don’t trust them
outside their boundaries.”

“If the stakes were lower or if Jackson were
actually interested in learning, sure. But Donny doesn’t have the
luxury of finding out Jackson can’t shoot straight.”

“I’m with her,” said Jackson, nodding. “That
being said, who gets the AK?” He held up the gun and looked around
the circle.

“Nikki,” said Ellen, and Jane in unison.

“Oh, come on guys,” said Nikki. “Be
sensible. It can’t be me. I can’t show up to the exchange with an
AK. Jenny, won’t you feel better with a Freddy replacement?”

Jenny looked tempted, as she strapped on the
ornate leather holster for the .357. “I would, but the exit plan
calls for me to be in the junk section.” She jerked her chin toward
the maze of flattened cars. “It’s close quarters; hand guns are
more practical.”

“Are you feeling OK?” asked Jane, reaching
over to feel Jenny’s forehead.

Jenny swatted Jane’s hand away. “Situation
dictates the strategy,” she said, quoting their training officer,
and the rest of the girls groaned.

“Don’t start quoting Mrs. Boyer to us,” said
Ellen. “Or I’ll have a PTSD flashback and punch you in the
boobs.”

“I’ll take it,” said Z’ev. “How did you talk
him into loaning you an AK-47 anyway?”

Jackson shrugged. “I told him we were target
shooting and he was happy to do it. Ever since that damn Initiative
594 went into effect, it’s a crime to loan someone a gun without
doing a background check, so this was his chance to have a tiny,
political protest.”

“And it never occurred to him that you might
do something illegal with the gun?” asked Z’ev, looking perplexed
by Bill Bartlby’s careless gun safety attitude.

“He’s known me since I was two—what trouble
could I possibly get up to?”

Z’ev shrugged and took the gun. “OK, Chief,”
he said turning to Nikki, “What do we do next?”

“The goal is to get Donny, and us, out of
here alive. Honestly, if he wants to make the exchange and drive
off, then we let that happen. But let’s be realistic, the odds are
not good that he’s going to do that. It’s 4:30 now. I expect his
ringers to arrive here in the next hour or so. We will let them get
into position and then we will need to take them out prior to the
exchange. Ellen, have you selected a location to watch their
arrival?”

Ellen nodded.

“The red Buick. It’s taller than most of the
vehicles and it’s got an unimpaired sightline from the top into the
junkyard.”

“Good. We’ll be looking to you to direct us
once the sheriff’s men arrive. But while we’re waiting for them, I
want to plant a few surprises. Jenny, what are your
recommendations?”