Trapped in the Mayan Tattoo (22 page)

            “Abbi, that’s just
weird. If everyone else thought it would work, couldn’t you just go along?”

            “I can’t do that. Something
wasn’t right,” she said and ran back in to get her briefcase. “Now I’m ready.”

            “Why do you have to
bring that? You know, if you had second thoughts about the zip line, I think
you could have said so.”

            “It’s not that at all.
My mother is not near here, and NM2 wasn’t going to release her. Whether
everything was right or not, we wouldn’t have gotten her back today.”

            “I don’t get it.”

            “Louise, I did the
right thing. I’m sure of it. Let’s go play.”

            Louise looked at her,
nodded, and said, “OK. You apparently know things I’m not privy to know.”

            Abbi let it go with
just a smile. Trying to explain her sixth sense was like trying to explain why
there are stars. (It’s a little complicated and Abbi didn’t even understand.)

            The 10-minute walk felt
good. Not since her parents left on their last mission, had Abbi felt free to
just take a walk.

            As soon as they arrived
at the mall, they went to the food court. The only breakfast-like item available
was pretzels. Abbi bought pretzels and honey mustard for the two of them. They
started to walk around. Before long, both of them spotted the photo booth.

            “Let’s do it,” they
said at the same time.

            “I’ll pay, but you have
mustard on your chin,” Louise said. She tried to get the mustard off with her
napkin but ended up smearing it.

By the time they
were sitting in the photo booth, they both had mustard on their faces.

“This one’s for my
mother,” Abbi said with a laugh as she posed.

“Then the second
one’s for Scott!” Louise said, so Abbi made a face for that one.

“I get the third
one for my dad,” Abbi said.

The girls posed
until Abbi’s federal issue phone, the one Mrs. Hightower had given her, rang.
Abbi suddenly stopped posing.

The photo booth
kept snapping shots automatically as Abbi listened to Mrs. Hightower on the
line. Abbi’s expressions went from surprise to dismay to worry.

“Abbi, the drop
has been aborted, at least for now,” Mrs. Hightower said.

“I know!” Abbi
said.

“You couldn’t
know. Sorry. Forgot who I was talking to for a minute. Remember the Smart Shoes
that your mother wears? We tracked her. She wasn’t on her way up here at all. Someone
lied to us. She’s still in Mexico.”

Abbi’s heart sank.

Since Louise
couldn’t hear the conversation, she kept posing for the photo booth and trying
to push Abbi out. Abbi finally stepped out so that she could talk with Mrs.
Hightower without interference.

“It turns out,
their plan was to take the money from three different drops and then meet up at
the airport to leave the country, without making further arrangements to hand
over your mother.”

“What if we didn’t
leave the right amount of money?”

The tone of Mrs.
Hightower’s voice suddenly changed. Quiet, reflective.

“We don’t want to
go there, but you’re right. That could have been a major issue for your mother,
I’m afraid. I’ll deal with that. I suspect insubordination somewhere down the
line. I’m feeling more uneasy about some things that have been happening.” She
shifted her tone and said, “Now, what I need from you is significant, Abbi.
We’ll try another approach. Back to Plan A, actually. Listen up.”

“I’m listening.”

“After you
memorized the instructions in the packet I gave you, our original plan was laid
by the wayside. Negotiations to obtain your mother’s release started more
quickly than expected. Now, we’re back to square one. Which means, you are now
back to the original instructions I gave you. Start by going to the
Organization of American States and follow the instructions step-by-step. Use
your script. You’ll need to ad-lib a little. Don’t give too much away.”

“But I’m at a
shopping mall in Virginia. We don’t know how to reach Scott or if he’s even
available to drive us. Big Sam is at the law complex.”

“OK. Get back to
the hotel. Can you walk that distance?”

“Yes, in about 10
minutes.”

“Change into your
office attire. Get your luggage out of the hotel and, if you have to, take a
taxi to the airport outside of Cave Spring. Arrange for a commuter flight,
nothing fancy, and go to Dulles International. From there take the Metro Rail
east to the Red Line. This will leave you some walking. Thank God you have your
running shoes, but right now, before you leave the mall, pick up a pair of nice
dress shoes that will look alright with your outfit. If you need anything to
complete the look, get it. You’ll probably not meet with the ambassador until
morning, so you’ll have time to get what you need. Good luck! I’m right here if
you need me. By the way, your father’s surgery went smoothly. They think maybe
he’ll be talking soon.”

“That’s wonderful,
uh, what do I call you?” Abbi asked, hesitating. Apparently their prior
relationship was best forgotten. Abbi hated that.

“Well, Miss
Kowalski, my co-workers call me ‘bitch queen’, but you should continue to call
me Mrs. Hightower. Give Mademoiselle Soufflé my best regards, s’il vous plait.”

Abbi laughed
nervously.

“Of course,” she
said. “Mrs. Hightower.”

“Any questions
about my instructions?” Mrs. Hightower asked.

“What do we do if
we have free time tonight, Mrs. Hightower?”

“There might be
time for frivolity. Or maybe a visit to the hospital. We’ll see. Have a good
flight and a safe trip!”

“Thanks. Uh, are
you sure I can pull this off and be convincing?”

“Never more sure
of anything. You have no idea your possibilities, my dear! How are those extra
eyes and ears working for you?”

“Pretty good,
mostly. We get along.” Abbi smiled at Louise who was feeding more money into
the photo booth. “She’s actually kinda fun!”

Louise made a face
at her.

Abbi responded
with a distorted face of her own and told her that Mrs. Hightower sends her
best regards.

“God Speed! Good
luck with this mission.”

“Wait, wait! Mrs.
Hightower, can you please call Big Sam and let him know what we’re doing?”

“You can call him.
Tell him I said.”

“No. He doesn’t
want me to talk to him.”

“What have you
done, Abeni?”

“It offended him
when I refused to make the drop. I didn’t feel right about it.”

“Whether he
believes it or not, you did the right thing. Good for you for standing up to
him!”

“Good! Does this
next part of the mission have a name?”

“We’ll call it
‘Operation Missing Shoe’. Thank goodness she has the Smart Shoes, but still it
will require international cooperation to get her back. You can do this for
her, Abbi, for all of us.”

Abbi swallowed
hard.

“OK,” she said,
thinking it was a long shot.

“Trust your
training as well as your intuition,” Mrs. Hightower said.

When Abbi got off
the phone, she grabbed Louise, who was posing for more pictures, by the arm and
said, “Not now! We have to catch a flight!”

Louise had a
dumbfounded expression but said nothing. Abbi retrieved the photos and admired
them for just a second then stuffed them in her handbag.

She looked toward
the EXIT sign and noticed a man watching them. He turned slightly when he saw
that she noticed him. Abbi studied him long enough to try to describe him, a
pretty average-looking middle-aged man, and saw only one thing that stood
out—red shoelaces. Strangely, she didn’t have a bad feeling about him, but she
was definitely aware of being watched. Could this be Shoe Clerk? Was red
shoelaces like a code?

Abbi darted
quickly into a nearby shoe shop.

“Shoes? Right
now?” Louise asked.

“I’m going to need
some. Notice anything odd back there at the photo booth?”

“Yeah, you grabbed
me!”

Abbi didn’t know
if the extra eyes and ears were functional. Maybe the flash of the camera
temporarily blinded Louise, but this was a good time to find out.

“Are all your
senses in working order?”

 She coached
Louise briefly while she looked at shoes.

“You have to be on
the look-out constantly. And, if you see something strange, try to be
nonchalant about it, but let me know. How about rubbing your left ear if
something seems odd or threatening?” Abbi picked up a serviceable pair of
shoes.

“OK.” Louise said.
She scrutinized the shoe shop. “Perfectly quiet. Not much business going on.”
Then she looked out. Still she saw nothing unusual and shook her head.

Abbi was looking
for a Mary Jane or something similar. Something with a strap, a soft soul and a
low heel, just in case she had to run. She glanced out and saw the red
shoelaces, still there, still close. She looked at Louise. So far, the eyes and
ears were not picking up.

“Pay attention to
what you see. After awhile you may notice a pattern. Look for something that
doesn’t fit. When you find it, I want to see you rub your ear—unless it’s more
urgent than that, of course.”

“I don’t know what
it is I’m supposed to be looking for,” Louise said.

“Just anything
unusual. How are your dress shoes for running?”

“I’ve never tried,
but I like them. I don’t want some old lady’s shoe like the one you’re
holding!”

“Well, I do. If I
need to take off running, you’ll have to keep up. You don’t want to be the
gazelle at the back of the herd, do you, Louise?”

“Gazelle?”

“You know, the one
that gets caught, eaten alive by the pride of lions. The boots you’re wearing
are probably fine for now. I suggest you either stick with them or pick up some
old lady shoes.”

Abbi tried on the
shoes, checking again for Red Shoelaces II. He was leaning against a fancy light
post, as if he waited for a poky wife to exit the ladies’ room.

“You’re still
watching while I pay for these. Right?”

“Right,” said
Louise. “What’s going on, Abbi?”

“We’ll get out of
here and talk. There’s been a major change in plan. We’re going back to square
one, according to Mrs. Hightower.”

“How do we get to
square one from here?” Louise asked.

Abbi paid for the
shoes and walked quickly toward the mall’s nearest exit, feeling like Louise had
failed the first test.

She stuffed her
handbag inside the shopping bag and carried the briefcase in the same hand. Once
outside, she grabbed Louise again. This time she yelled, “Run!”

Abbi didn’t try to
talk until they reached the hotel.

            “What was that about?”
Louise asked. “You could have killed me when we crossed traffic out there!”

            “So far, I’ve given you
two tests. You failed to see the man who was following us, but you passed the
running. I’m proud of you!”

            “A man?”

            “Red Shoelaces II. Watch
for him. I feel like he’s harmless, but we don’t know.”

            “What if he changes
shoes? How would I know him?”

            “Keep your eyes out for
the most ordinary-looking man you can imagine. Boringly ordinary. That would be
him.”

            “That helps,” Louise
said. “It could be Lowell. So now I guess we’re changing clothes.”

            “Yes, complete with
wigs. We want to do our office look again, I think. And it’s definitely not
Lowell,” Abbi said with a laugh. She didn’t know where Lowell was, but it
probably involved more skill than standing around a mall.

            “Well, let me catch my
breath a minute!”

            Abbi dressed hastily
and tried on the blonde wig again.

            “I’m ready!” she
announced.

            “It’s crooked,” Louise
said, coming to her fashion rescue.

            “Thanks! Now you’ve
passed the third test. Two out of three ain’t bad. Get ready. We’re catching a
flight and going to the Organization of American States. My mother is still in
Mexico, so they’re back to wanting to do an extraction. Think tooth. They’re
going to try to take out my mother but leave the others.”

            “So why do we go there?
Why can’t they do it?”

            “Remember the
ambassador I talked to? We’re going to meet up with him.”

            “Can’t you just call
him?” Louise asked as she tugged on her skirt.

            “I have pictures to
show him, things we tried to explain before. Hopefully, this time he’ll listen.
He seems to have his own agenda, but we need his help. You ready?”

            “I am but you’re not.
You need some makeup.”

            “Less is more,” Abbi
said, almost protesting.

            “Less is more but more
is better,” Louise said. “Otherwise, you’re not going to pull it off.”

            “Here’s my face. Make
me over.”

            Before they left the
room, Abbi said, “Let’s get our badges and passes in our handbags ready to use
when we need them.” She was careful to check that all her mother’s notes and
drawings were in the briefcase. That would be her carry-on.

           
Tina came out to
the kitchen. Her old clothes felt too big on her. While she fidgeted with the
sweat pants to keep them up, she realized she felt hungry but still had a
stomach ache.

            “Did the pizza come?”

            “Last night,” her
father said, touching her cheek to feel the fever. “I couldn’t wake you up. How
are you feeling now?”

            “Not as tired, but I
could still sleep all week.”

            “Here, drink
something,” her father said. He handed her a soft drink. “I talked to Teresa.
You may have to get hydrated at the hospital if we can’t pump you up with
enough fluids. We have to flush out poisons in your kidneys and liver and let
this medicine get in to do its job. Think you can help with that?”