Undercover with the Hottie (Investigating the Hottie) (9 page)

“I can take care of myself.”  I could take down any of those guys if they tried to mess with me.

“I know you can, but it's better if you don't call attention to yourself by karate-chopping the football captain or something.”

“Unless you need to,” Grandma chimed in. “If you need to take one of them out, don't hesitate.”

“Oh, I won't,” I said, flexing my muscles.

Will made a show of reaching over to feel my bicep. “Nice.”

“Don't mess with me,” I said, making a fist.

He held up his hands in surrender. “I would never.”

Never? Like, for real, never?
I frowned.

Will's eyes narrowed as he took in my frown. Then the corner of his mouth quirked into the start of a grin, and he winked at me.

“Barf,” Christie said. “Enough with the flirting.”

Ignoring her, I winked back at him.

“This was a bad idea.”  My aunt snapped her laptop shut. “We never should have used the two of you on this mission together. You can't pull off brother and sister.”

“Yes, we can,” I said. “We'll just stay away from each other most of the time.”

“Right,” Will said. “We can.”

“Make sure you aren't making eyes at each other across the room,” Christie said.

“We won't. Besides, we're too busy. We're trying to make friends with people and spot anything suspicious and plant these charger-bugs, and we're thinking about a million things at once.”  And only about a thousand were related to how cute Will was. Maybe a hundred thousand, but still...

Will chimed in. “She's right. Plus, those girls aren't giving me any time to flirt with Amanda. I'm flirting at top speed as it is.”

I gripped my phone tightly in my hand. Stupid girls. Flirting and kissing his cheek. Stupid, stupid, stupid. “Hey,” I said. “Maybe we should give Will a couple of big oozing zits. That way, he might have time to get free from the fan club and actually work on the mission.”

Grandma quirked a grin and looked away.

Will smiled.

Christie rolled her eyes. “You guys already have an in to this crowd. I may as well do that for both of you so you can concentrate on the mission. Do you want to ooze white cells or just have the zits bleed?”

Crud. I should have known better than take on Christie. I steeled my shoulders and met her gaze. “White cells.”

“Nose, chin, or forehead?” She didn't blink.

I wasn't backing down. “Chin.”

“And what about a double-header? Or one with three heads-”

“Uncle,” I said. “Uncle. I give up. No zits. No puss.”

Christie beamed, her white smile wide enough for a toothpaste commercial. “Don't mess with the big dog.”

I turned to Will and made a face.

His complexion had a green tinge.

“Quit picturing it,” I said, when I realized his gaze was focused on my chin.

“I have a vivid imagination.”

“Since the flirting is finished,” Grandma said, “we should get on with the meeting.”

It took everything I had in me to stop myself from sticking my tongue out at Grandma.

“Hey, honey!” Nic called from the front door. “I'm home!”

Will and I turned to greet Nic as Grandma mumbled, “And here comes the flirting Nic and Christie style.”

Nic strode towards Christie, went around the table, wrapped his arms around her, and said, “Did you miss me, baby?”

“Is the door shut?” Christie asked.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Then, no. Not so much.”

Christie's denial didn't faze him. “Oh, come on, baby. Give me some sugar.”  Nic tried to get his lips on her face as she twisted to evade him.

“Nic,” she squealed, “we don't have time for this. The kids have a party tonight.”

He finally released her, winked at Grandma, and pulled out a chair. “So where are we?” he asked after sitting.

“What was that?” I asked Will in a faux whisper.

He shrugged. “I guess he's in a good mood.”

Nic smiled. “That's right. I had a good day.”

“Watching sitcoms about fathers in the 1950's?” Christie asked with a scowl. She smoothed her top as if he'd given her cooties.

“No. The driver's doing well. They expect him to make a full recovery,” he said, with a bright grin.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Grandma said.

All five of us were smiling now.

Nic's smile faded. “Whoever shot him has already hacked into the hospital network and changed his medications in another attempt to take him out. Our team caught it though, and they've gone to paper charting for him while he's there.”

“Whoever shot him sounds determined to finish him off,” Will noted.

“They won't succeed,” Nic said with confidence. “We've dealt with these situations before, and we have some of our best agents on that detail.”

“Are they working on tracking the hacker?” Grandma asked, her fingers twitching.

“They have a team on it, but they don't expect to find anything. They are highly skilled and have resources, two bits of information that should help us in the long run. And,” he continued, “we are making inroads with the surveillance devices. I gave rides to twenty-two people from the UN. All but three used a charger on at least one device.”

“Not bad,” Grandma said. “What about the other three?”

“One of the women wasn't in the car long enough to bother. Another refused because she'd just replaced her phone after using an off-brand charger. The third, though, seemed suspicious.”

“How so?” Christie asked.

“He didn't touch his phone when he was in the car. Didn't make a call, didn't text. He refused the offer of the charger, and he didn't make conversation. He seemed entirely too cautious for a pencil pusher at the UN.”

“Who was it?” Grandma asked, her fingers poised on the keyboard.

“Bill Smith.”

“Nationality?”

“American.”

We were all quiet for a moment as we took in that information.

“Are we sure he isn't one of ours?” Christie asked.

“I called it in,” Nic answered. “He isn't an American agent.”

“How do we investigate him?” I asked. “Or is another team doing it?”

“Christie can go in undercover at the UN, or she can work it from another angle.”

“It's already Friday,” Grandma said. “I doubt he's working on a Saturday right after Christmas.”

“He might,” Nic said. “He tends to work on weekends. If not, he has a regular gym routine. Christie can access his phone there.”

“Sounds good,” my aunt said. “Either way. Piece of cake.”

“Meanwhile, Nic, we have access to Nguyen's place tonight.”  Grandma handed him her tablet.

He nodded. Then he typed something in. “One of the women from today has a daughter who's fifteen. She may be too young for the party, but if she shows up, try to make contact. Her name is Esme.”

“Sidney might know her,” I suggested. “It shouldn't be hard.”

“That Smith guy doesn't have kids?” Will asked.

Nic shook his head. “No kids, no wife, no significant other.”

Suspicious.

“You kids go ahead and get changed for the party,” Christie said. “We'll put together a five minute briefing for you before you go.”  She looked at me. “Will has it easy, but you probably want to dress like you're going to a club. Dress to impress.”

Easier said than done. “I guess I should see what's in my closet then.”

“What about dinner?” Will asked.

“We can order in,” Grandma said.

“Is there something besides Chinese and pizza?” I asked. “I kind of want a burger and fries.”

“This is New York City,” Grandma said, “everybody delivers.”

Dressing to go out wasn't a team activity. I showered, washed my hair, dried it, and straightened it with my flat iron. Now, with the door to my room securely locked, I stood in my bra and undies in front of my closet. I didn't want to overdress. Grandma had filled my closet with a variety of dresses, skirts, and tops. There was no shortage of sparkle, but I guess that was appropriate for the season. Six pairs of shoes stood at attention across the floor of the closet.

Did Christie seriously mean dress to impress? I'd totally feel like Holiday Barbie in a couple of these dresses. If I put them on and stood next to a Christmas tree, a little girl might mistake me for her Christmas present. I thought back to last night. Those girls had worn skirts even though they were just hanging out at Leah's house.

And I'd been wearing gym shorts. I sighed, resigning myself to dressing up. I found a pair of black tights in my dresser and tugged them on. I chose one of the dresses that looked like a black sleeveless top with a short gold, brocade skirt. Then I slipped on the lowest pair of black heels. I looked good. Mom would never have gone for a dress this short, but I did have tights on so I didn't feel as exposed. I leaned down to touch my toes, and the dress rode way up but not enough to show my undies. I needed to accessorize. I glanced around the room. I hadn't brought any jewelry, and I didn't see any in here.

I opened the door to go ask Christie, and I found Will standing there. He wore a pair of jeans, surprise, and a rugby shirt like the one West had been wearing last night. He had a new black leather jacket that looked expensive, and he smelled like heaven. Well, he smelled like God had taken the yummiest shampoo and cologne and mixed them together with cute boy.

“You look amazing,” he said reaching out to touch the skirt.

“It's short,” I said, like an idiot.

“It's perfect,” he said, tugging on the brocade.

“I still need jewelry and makeup.”

“Come down here, Amanda,” Christie called. “We've got some choices for you.”

I stepped back into the room to get my phone and my purse, and then I followed Will down to the kitchen island. The black marble top was covered with jewelry and hair accessories.

“Oh, don't you look gorgeous,” Grandma said.

“Is it too much?” I asked.

“No,” Will said, very quickly. Then he blushed and looked away.

“Couldn't you find something cute for her that wouldn't turn him into a drooling moron?” Christie said to Grandma.

Nic finally turned away from the laptop he was working on and glanced my way. His jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me?”

I squirmed under his scrutiny.

“Brenda, this is not at all appropriate.”  He came over to the island to get a better look. “She can't wear that in public.”

“Oh, it's not any different than what she wears at home,” Christie argued.

Yeah. Different. Way different. Mom would freak.

“Tell him, Amanda,” she added.

“Um,” I said. “Lots of my friends wear things much skimpier.”

“She isn't kidding,” Grandma said. “When they showed me the junior dresses section, I thought they'd taken me to lingerie by mistake. These are as modest as it gets.”

She was exaggerating a little. I knew because I owned dresses and skirts that were way more modest, but this was the Big Apple. And I was supposed to be older.

Nic didn't stop glaring. “What's the plan for monitoring her?”

Christie held something up that looked like a waistband to a skirt, only wider, maybe three to four inches. “She can wear this under the skirt. We'll have the usual video, and this will allow for audio if she triggers it. We'll also have an extra tracking device, lock picks, a high tech 'rape whistle' that she can trigger if she needs help from others at the party, and there are two lightweight pairs of 'brass knuckles' in case she needs an extra oomph in any hand to hand combat.”

She handed me one of the 'brass knuckles' and I slipped it on my hand. It immediately went from flat and flexible to a rigid weapon. “Nice.”

“Will has the same items but they fit in his pockets, and of course they both have the phones with stun gun capability.”

Nic studied me for a moment. “Fine, but I'm driving them.”

“D-Nic,” I whined. I'd almost called him dad. “We need to go with our friends.”

“I can drive some of them too.”

Will pulled out his phone. “It's blowing up with texts. We need to get going.”

“Let's get some jewelry and lipstick on Amanda. Oh, and here's the purse you'll use to carry all those chargers.”  Christie held up a decent sized black velvet purse. “You'll have to meet up with Will some so he can refill his pockets.”  Christie turned to Will. “Text your friends and see if anybody wants a ride.”

“Parents are so lame,” I mumbled in Nic's direction.

“Did you check these kids out, Christie? Are we sure there won't be any drugs or alcohol at the party?”  Nic shoved his hand through his hair.

“We confirmed a chaperone. Not a parent, but a housekeeper. We also checked for any arrests or rehab stints. We can't be sure, Nic, but the kids know to be smart.”

Nic shook his head. “Never drink anything you didn't open, Amanda. You too Will. You want to get a bottle of water or a canned soft drink. No punch, and no mysterious red cups.”

“We know, Nic. It's in the GASI training materials. Conduct yourself with caution around possible suspects and unknown entities,” Will said.

“Well it goes for high school parties too. And then college parties.”

Nic's protective side was endearing.

Chapter Nine

The girls texting Will had already left for the party, so Leah, Sidney, and Daphne ended up riding with us.

“Daphne,” Nic said, playing the fuddy-duddy dad role pretty well. “That's an unusual name.”

“Yeah,” she said with a frown.

“She takes a lot of heat for it,” Leah added.

“How so?” Nic asked. “I don't see a joke there.”

“You may not, but everybody else does.” Daphne sighed. “You know, Daphne and Velma from Scooby Doo?”

“Sure,” Nic said.

“Daphne was the pretty one,” I said. “You should be safe.”

Daphne laughed. “I'm not safe at all. They just call me Scooby Snack.”

“No way,” I said.

“Teenage boys are idiots,” Nic said.

“Oh,” Will said from the front seat. “I heard them talking about Scooby Snack but I didn't know it was you.”

Nic smacked Will on the back of the head.

“Hey,” Will said. “It wasn't bad stuff. I just didn't know who they meant.”

“West started it,” Daphne said. “The others ran with it.”