Trapped in the Mayan Tattoo (36 page)

 Louise went into
the bathroom to get her shower and soon slipped into their double-cot.

Meanwhile, Abbi
examined the room more closely. The room had the look and feel of being thrown
together fast with mismatched items, poorly arranged furniture and colors that
clashed. Definitely not feng shui but free room and board. And right next to
the temporary headquarters. Not a bad perk. Abbi decided she could make it
work.

“Good night, Louise!
I’m glad you’re here,” Abbi said.

“Me, too. Night
night! I hope you’ll be in the shower soon,” Louise said. “Ugh! This is SO.
NOT. COMFY! Oops! Forgot something. Have to recharge my phone.” Louise was
getting dramatic again but, as much as she used it for texting, that was a big
deal.

“Our phones. Me,
too! Then I’m recharging me!”

Louise seemed to
take longer plugging in her phone than usual.

Abbi went into the
bathroom but still had a feeling they weren’t finished with things appearing
different than they really were. If she could slip into Missing Shoe
Headquarter, she could check out the archived news reports of NM2 on a laptop. But
headquarters was locked and she knew she didn’t have unassisted access or, for
that matter, permission.

After awhile, after
Abbi’s shower, she could still hear Louise who had not made it back to bed.
Abbi wondered how anyone could text so much but figured she must be exercising
when she heard noise and grunting. Too active for texting. Finally, she heard
Louise return to the squeaky cot.

It was well before
midnight when Abbi flicked off the light and snuggled into the clean, crisp
sheets. Shortly after midnight a knocking sound brought Abbi out of REM sleep,
the deepest sleep she’d felt in days. She had actually been dreaming and woke
up enough to dismiss the knocking, thinking it was at some other door down the
hall. Then she heard it again, louder this time. Louise groaned and rolled
over, apparently trying to shut out the noise.

“Ladies!” Lowell
called. “Hey, girls, you’ve got company! Got room for one more?”

“Jola!” said a
girl’s voice. “Mind if I come in?”

            Calista had arrived.

            Abbi scrambled out of
bed and checked the time. Almost midnight. She switched on a light and threw
the towel off the mirror to check her reflection. Her tank top and sweatpants would
have to do for now.

She bounded toward
the door and opened it. Immediately, when she saw Calista, a warning alarm went
off in her head. Something looked familiar, even sinister, about her although
she had the look of an angel, as if she just stepped off a Victoria’s Secret
photo shoot.

To ease tension,
Abbi smiled and said, “Glad you made the trip. You must be exhausted. Want
salad, pizza, anything?”

“I don’t need a
thing,” Calista said. Her eyes quickly surveyed the room.

“It looks like
maybe this loveseat here makes into small a bed,” Abbi said, studying its
shape.

“It does,” Lowell
said.

“We’re sleeping on
cots, but if I’d known you were coming to this apartment, I’d have gotten this
roll-out ready for you. It has to be more comfortable than a cot,” Abbi said, showing
the loveseat to Calista, knowing that she was talking too much, too fast. “As
thin as you are, Calista, the loveseat should big enough.”

“I brought it in
myself,” Lowell said.  “There are clean sheets inside.”

Abbi posed with a
fake smile. So he knew.

            “I sleep anywhere. Anytime.
Right, Lowell?” Calista gushed, and gave Lowell a peck on the cheek. Then she
added, “Can’t you stay, Lowell? You were wonderful! So big and strong!”

            The rush of jealousy
that hit Abbi would not leave. Neither would Calista. When Lowell politely but
stiffly refused to stay, she tried to reign in her jealousy and unbridle her
manners.

“Thanks, Lowell. I’ll
see that Calista will be right at home here,” she said, waving her arms to
indicate the cramped suite with its cots pushed together. She didn’t know how
sincere she sounded. “Ya know, I sat on this thing, and there ya go, Calista!
I’m sure you’ll be all comfy.”

            OMG, thought Abbi. I
sound like a still-running hillbilly. Stop talking.

Abbi bent over the
loveseat to roll it out into a bed.  When Lowell offered to help, Abbi felt uncomfortably
underdressed. In that position, her tank top revealed more than she wanted.

            “This is easy,” she
said, standing up quickly. “I can get it.”

            When Lowell tried to
make his exit, Calista slid her fingers through his hair.

“Thanks, Lowell. You
were simply wonderful!” Calista said again. “Do you have to go?” Her voice made
a deep cooing sound.

Then Calista turned
him around and ran her fingers up the buttons on Lowell’s shirt and up to his
ear and then gave it a little pinch.

            “Actually, you could
help with this, Calista,” Abbi said, interrupting.

            “Si. Just let me drop
my jacket somewhere,” Calista said, still cooing and looking at Lowell.

            Everything about
Calista seemed suggestive. The way Calista removed her jacket looked seductive,
bringing to mind the well-rehearsed moves of a stripper. Abbi noticed that Lowell
noticed.

            “If you girls have this
under control, I’ll see you in the morning,” Lowell said. He seemed in a hurry.

            Abbi understood and
said, “Sure!”

“You’ll be right
next door?” Calista asked, looking at Lowell over a raised shoulder. Calista’s suggestive
behavior nagged at Abbi, but underneath that charade was something else, something
much more ominous. Abbi was sure she had seen Calista somewhere before.

The door closed
behind Lowell, and Calista moved toward Abbi, as if intentionally provoking a
confrontation.

In a much
different tone of voice, she said, “God! I thought he’d never leave!”

            Louise stayed in bed,
apparently sleeping. Abbi could hear her tossing restlessly. If Louise were up,
would Calista be acting this way?    

“Calista, want to
help out here?” Abbi asked as attempted to cool down Calista’s body language. She
tugged at the seat of the couch to make it into a bed.

When Calista turned
toward her, Abbi saw something that made her suddenly felt weak. Across Calista’s
inner left forearm was a reddish, freshly-inked tattoo. Abbi tried to get a
closer look. Calista kept moving just out of range for Abbi to see it clearly. Abbi
cautiously reached down into the base of the couch to pull out sheets and a
blanket.

“Calista, can you
get that blanket out?” Abbi asked and hoped to get a better view of the arm tattoo.

“When you’re this
hot, you don’t really need one,” Calista said, not laughing.

Abbi began to
wonder if Calista was on a behavior-altering drug.

 “I’m in no hurry
to sleep,” Calista said and looked sideways at Abbi.

“Well, it’s been a
long day for me, and I need to be fresh in the morning,” Abbi said. “Let’s get
these sheets on. You can leave off the blanket. Can you grab that end?”

Calista just stood
and brushed her hair back behind her ears and took another step closer. Abbi
saw something much more clearly now.  What looked like a mole or a beauty mark on
the left cheekbone was not what it appeared to be. Instead of being a mole, it
turned out to be a tattoo—
a special tattoo, obviously in the shape of a
teardrop!

The girl with the
mole. Now Abbi remembered. Watching the Pelletiers’ house. Passing slowly in
the blue mini-van. Blocking the garage.

As Calista
extended her arm to pick up a sheet, it was as if slow motion set in for Abbi.
Calista’s left forearm extended and then, through its fresh reddish halo, the
tattoo became clearly visible. Identical to one of her mother’s drawing, this
was the dreaded flying NM with the 2 on top!

Abbi stopped
tugging on the sheet of the bed and thought about moving slowly toward the bathroom
to be alone and think about this new development. But curiosity took hold and
she felt compelled to stay, to see what Calista had in mind. The teardrop
tattoo, placed under the eye, signified a killing. Quite an accomplishment if
someone had been through an initiation for a human trafficking ring! She
couldn’t leave Louise alone with her, but she wasn’t sure she should stay. She
herself might be a target. Suddenly she knew she had to remove herself from the
situation.

           
“Your tattoos--pretty
artsy!” Abbi said, as if oblivious to their meanings but knowing enough to
strike at Calista’s forearm if she needed to act in self-defense.

            “Si. Not to worry. I
can tell you, you’ll sleep well tonight, Abbi, and I won’t be staying here.”

Red flag!

“Wherever you
stay, I have to use the bathroom,” Abbi said.

Abbi backed up
from Calista and picked up her cell phone, unplugging its charger. She slid the
phone into the pocket of her sweatpants. Her mind raced. She couldn’t talk and
she couldn’t stay there.

She quickly backed
into the bathroom, shut the door, locked it securely and called Lowell. No
answer.

She texted:
DANGER. GET CALISTA OUTTA HERE!

Lowell texted back:
SHE’S FLIRTY. AIN’T NO THING. GO TO SLEEP.

“NO!” Abbi texted.

Lowell texted, “GOODNIGHT!”

“SOS!”

The knock on the
bathroom door shook Abbi.

Calista’s voice
was hoarse now, not cooing, when she said, “I gotta pee fast. Let me in.”

“Wait a minute. Be
right out,” Abbi said, trying not to panic. Keep talking, Calista, she thought.
That way I know Louise is OK.

“I spent the day
with Lowell,” Calista said. “We had the chance to talk a lot. It turns out your
mother and I have mutual, uh, acquaintenances. They sent me to introduce myself
to you. Everyone’s asleep here. They’re no fun. Want to go out for a drink or
something?”

Abbi tried to buy
time. She needed a water bottle or something like it. Louise’s shampoo bottle!
She grabbed it.

“No, sorry, can’t
go out tonight. Too much going on tomorrow!”

“Oh, come on,
Abbi! I’d do anything to get where I’m going. It’s just business, you know.”

Abbi opened the
bathroom door slightly. As soon as she did, she saw the shine of a knife blade
wedging into the opening.

“Abbi, you can
help me. Go out with me and we’ll, uh, talk. You can have a hellava time and I’ll
gain me some points.”

“What kind of
points?”

“Street cred.”

“For your gang?”

“You could say
that. It’s a business organization is what it is, and I’m gonna make it to the
top, with your help. Let’s go somewhere and talk business.” Calista’s accent
was becoming thicker.

 Abbi threw a bar
of soap at the wall connecting the bathroom with headquarters next door.

“Lowell!” Abbi
called.

“You shouldn’t a
done that. He can’t help you. Besides, this really has nothing to do with you. I
told you, it’s just business,” Calista said. “Nothin’ personal at all. Besides,
he’ll believe anythin’ I tell him.”

Angry that Lowell
ignored her plea, Abbi knew she had to handle this herself. She mouthed a silent
prayer. She would have to think fast. Say the right thing. Make the right moves.
Courageously, calmly, yet unaware of her own strength, she opened the door to
Calista and jammed the shampoo bottle into Calista’s Adam’s apple.

Calista went down.

“The bathroom’s all
yours,” Abbi said, and kicked the knife out of Calista’s hand as Calista gasped
for air. The knife blade stuck into the bathroom wall.

An instant later, Calista
tried to respond, giving a feeble kick with her leg. Abbi side-stepped and slapped
Calista’s forearm hard. She also made contact with a kicking maneuver, jutting one
foot quickly to Calista’s abdomen and then to her back when she rolled.

For a brief moment
Abbi stared and wondered about her own strength. She speed-dialed Big Sam.

“You beech!” Calista
yelled as she scrambled to retrieve her knife from the bathroom.

“Louise, get
Lowell,” Abbi yelled. She reached the knife first and threw it toward the
apartment door just seconds before the door opened. Calista’s hands had grabbed
her legs, causing Abbi to fall.

In walked Lowell,
followed closely by Big Sam.

“I didn’t do nothin’!
We were just talkin’ and she like explodes on me!” Calista said in a hoarse
voice as she pulled herself up. Then, rubbing her throat, she turned to Abbi
accusingly.

“Come on,” Big Sam
said, taking Calista by the arm and pulling her up to a standing position. “Interesting
little show you put on!”

“Abbi, I wasn’t going
to hurt you! You know that!” Calista said. “I thought we could be friends. Why
did you attack me?”

“We know what you
were doing,” Lowell said. He touched Abbi’s arm and indicated the camera on the
ceiling.

“Por nada,” said
Calista, brushing it off. “Lowell, I’ll tell you what really happened.”

“I got the
picture,” Lowell said.

Big Sam moved
Calista next door to headquarters and recited the Miranda rights to her before questioning.

Lowell stayed with
Abbi and Louise in their apartment and assured them that everything had been
caught on video. Louise smiled, sitting up on her cot.

“When did that
camera get there? Is that what it is?” Abbi asked, as she pointed to a tiny
device on the ceiling.

Louise looked smug
and said, “It wasn’t as easy to install as Miss Sobori said it would be.”

“Louise, how’d
you…”

“A chair and Dad’s
handy dandy little tool, but STILL!”

“So this was a
set-up! Louise!!!” Abbi said, amazed that Louise really did something. “And
you, Lowell!”