New York State Of Mind

New York State Of Mind

by

P. A. Matthews

         “Raise your paddle higher Non, otherwise the person won’t be able to see it.”

         “I’m tired waving this thing around; here, you hang onto it for a while.”

         “Can’t work that way, you’re the artist, you have to make a good showing here. Now put the paddle up and bid on that vase.”

         I stared at the catalogue, and then squinted toward the front of the auction house, shaking my head while raising my numbered paddle. I turned to the man seated next to me. “If that thing is of the Ming Dynasty, I’m Groucho Marx.”

         “Well at least you have the grouchy part down.”

         I hissed as I stuck my paddle in the air. “You know perfectly well why I’m grouchy.”

         “Not now Non, we have to keep an eye on the bidding. We’re at five million already, keep upping the bid until we’re near seven million, and then stop bidding.”

         I honed in on the couple bidding against me, he was one of New York’s crime bosses, she was one of Los Angeles’ dumbest. Together they were just disgusting.

         At six point eight million, I lowered my paddle and shook my head no at the auctioneer. I nodded to the crime boss as he turned to acknowledge my bidding. His babe flashed me a grin worthy of a Crest ad while she rubbed herself against him like a retarded cat.

         “Okay Non, it’s almost show time. Julian likes to gloat when he wins, especially if it’s winning against a woman. Add a beautiful woman to the mix and it will be like catnip to him.”

         “Charlie, I’m assuming there was some sort of left-handed compliment in there, however, I’m not up to digging through the crap talk to find it.”

         “You wound me Non.”

         “How long have we been together Charlie?”

         “A very long time sweetie.”

         I gave him a petulant look. “Then don’t make me want to pull my gun and make you one of the girls.”

         “Sweet talker.” Charlie kissed my cheek, sliding a whisper into my ear. “Play nice, Julian is headed your way.”

         Glancing nonchalantly around the room took effort I didn’t possess today. I watched people greeting other high-rollers in the art field, knowing some of them would find themselves at my show this weekend.

         Stifling a yawn added to the tension growing inside me like a cancerous tumor. The sight of Julian Mahoney waddling my way only made the tension worse, watching his lady slither alongside him brought a new dimension to my thinking.

         I avoided directly watching the approach of Julian and his lady, concentrating instead on becoming aloof and more shy, a character I’d maintained in the art world for nearly sixteen years while working undercover for the FBI.

         Charlie, my partner for almost all those sixteen years, patted my arm reassuringly as Julian loomed large before me. Charlie stood, acknowledging Mahoney’s presence while I waved my paddle near my face hoping to fan the stifling perfume that preceded Mahoney’s babe-friend. What was it with these women and their gawd-awful perfumes? What were thy covering anyway, decaying bodies?

         I looked up and caught the edge of a toothy grin sent Charlie’s way, noting that beneath the plaster of makeup she’d laid on with a trowel, the woman had already begun decaying in steady increments. Somehow I felt a little twinge of sadness for her, knowing Mahoney would soon replace her with a newer model.

         At Charlie’s silent urging, I stood and faced the rotund Mahoney, hoping my face had adjusted enough to warrant an Oscar nod. Acrid breath that smelled as if Mahoney had chewed on forest fire remains, escaped his mouth as he prepared to speak. Now I realized whose decay his babe was covering.

         “You put up a good fight there girlie, thought you might try to outbid me for a while. I guess it got too steep for you, huh?”

         I spoke without inhaling. “Well, I’m sure you’ll appreciate having something from the Ming Dynasty gracing your home.”

         Mahoney’s expression became confused. “Ming who? Hey Mindy, is that who owned the vase before I bought it?”

         Mindy looked uncomfortable as she spoke. “No, the vase was from a period of time in China known as the Ming Dynasty.”

         “Don’t know anything about a dynasty except what was on T.V., I just liked it because it was big and had those pictures on it.”

         The brightness of Mindy’s grin seemed to drop a few kilowatts; perhaps she wasn’t as dumb as I thought. “Since you liked it so well, I’m sure you’ll love admiring its beauty everyday. I’m glad if I lost, it was to an art connoisseur like you.”

         Mahoney ate it up, swallowing the compliment whole. “That’s right girlie; I like being surrounded by art, right Mindy?”

         Mindy resumed smiling. “Yes. Julian, you haven’t introduced yourself yet.”

         Mahoney inhaled, and then belched another briquette my way. “Name’s Julian Mahoney, this here’s Mindy Schulze. Hey, you know, you look kinda familiar, have you been to these auctions before?”

         “No, I’m just in town for a couple of weeks doing a show.”

         Mahoney eyed me like I was his next meal. “You one of those actresses on Broadway, or do you strip?”

         I heard my gun speaking from the inside of my purse, begging for some action. Charlie took over the conversation, apparently having heard the murmuring of the .38 as well. He gave his well-practiced bit of laughter before he spoke.

         “Mr. Mahoney, this is Nancy Newton, and she will be having a gallery show of her paintings this weekend in Manhattan.”

         Mahoney squinted at Charlie. “You her husband or just her mouthpiece?”

         “Traveling companion, my name is Charles Pemberton.”

         I extended my hand to Mahoney. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Mahoney, as well as Ms. Schultz.”

         Mahoney’s hand dwarfed my hand as he shook it, his palm as wet and slimy as his brain. “If you would like to attend my show on opening night, I’d be pleased to offer my personal invitation. I’m sure you will find those attending well versed in the arts, and who knows, you may enjoy the show. I’m afraid Charles will have to give you the information regarding the gallery’s location, I am unfamiliar with New York.”

         “So where are you from Ms.?”

         “Newton.”

         “Yeah, like the cookie.”

         The gun screamed louder. “I’m from California.” I turned to face Charlie who seemed to have developed an inordinate liking for ceiling ornamentation. “Charles, would you be kind enough to give Mr. Mahoney and Ms. Schulze invitations for opening night?” I turned to Mahoney as Charlie removed the invitations from his briefcase. “It would be an honor to have both of you attend the show on Saturday evening. If you will excuse me, I need to keep another appointment.”

         Mindy smiled as Mahoney took the invitations. “You sure you never stripped before, you have some great looking equipment there girlie.”

         I smiled shyly. “Now Mr. Mahoney, you don’t know me well enough to ask me that—yet. A girl has to keep some secrets.”

         Vulgar cackling followed me as I walked from Mahoney’s presence. For the first time in the months we’d been investigating, I actually pitied Mindy Schulze.

§ § §

         Charlie held the door open as I walked into the suite. Gazing around this room brought a little more comfort than Charlie’s and my usual stakeouts.

         “Has the room been swept?”

         Charlie opened his briefcase and brought out one of his many electronic gizmos. “I did it before I left, but I’ll do it again to make you happy.”

         I slumped onto a comfy couch and kicked off my designer heels. “You always know the way to my heart Charlie.”

         Charlie roamed through the rooms doing his thing as I tried to think about our next move.

         “All the rooms are clean Non, want a drink?”

         “I’d kill for a Pepsi.”

         “I bet you would to.”

         I smiled at his easy banter. “Charlie, have I told you I love you today?”

         He handed me the glass of my favorite drink. I took a sip, feeling the familiar thrill of carbonation attack my tongue.

         “Not yet.”

         I took another sip. “Well, I do. You’re the best partner I could ever have had.”

         “Good to know. I think you need sleep; you only get mushy when you haven’t slept. How many days has it been this time?”

         “You worry too much.” I watched Charlie’s concerned face. “Okay, it’s been three days.”

         “How about a nap before we head over to the gallery?”

         I sighed. “No, just talk to me about this case. I’ve had that stupid show to think about and I wasn’t expecting to be here until Friday. I received a call from the LA office to get here immediately.”

         Charlie sat on the couch and sipped on a glass of scotch. “There’s been movement. Word’s out Mahoney is receiving an important shipment sometime within the next week. My source informed me Mahoney had been eyeing some of the auction items, so I thought it would be a good idea to get you to the auction and establish contact. What did you think of the illustrious Julian Mahoney now that you’ve met him in person?”

         “Does he think that beaver he wears on his head resembles hair? My gosh, that thing doesn’t even resemble a bad toupee, and his breath was simply rancid.”

         Spew from Charlie’s drink hit my legs as he laughed. “It was all I could do to keep from screaming or jerking it off his head. God, what died in his mouth?”

         “I think pretty much all of Mindy’s future. Do you think she’s as dumb as we originally thought?”

         “Not only are you mushy, you’re going soft. She’s been with Mahoney for years Non.”

         I gave Charlie a disgusted look. “That doesn’t necessarily make her guilty of anything other than extremely poor taste in men. We don’t have anything on her, correct?”

         “They are working on an accessory charge. What are you thinking?”

         “I don’t know. Do you think we can turn her?”

         “Mahoney’s ties are pretty tight Non, if he didn’t take Mindy down for turning on him the rest of his connections would.”

         “I suppose she would be rather difficult to hide in the Witness Protection Program. She was definitely eyeing you Charlie, maybe she could just live with you.”

         “Right. Talk about being scoped out, you had Mahoney ready to trade Mindy in and do you in public.”

         I gulped the rest of my Pepsi. “Yeah, just what I want, some freaking piece of slime on me, he’d like anything that was blonde.”

         Charlie laughed. “You forget your other asset.”

         I gave Charlie a questioning look as he stared at me over his empty glass, making me feel uneasy.

         “Breasts. Sweetheart, you simply have great breasts.”

         I looked at my chest then back to Charlie. “Thanks for noticing. They wield that much power?”

         Charlie didn’t answer, just rattled the ice cubes around in his glass until the noise grew maddening. He finally put down the offending object, picked me up, and then carried me toward what I assumed was a bedroom.

         “You need rest whether you want to admit the fact or not. I’m beat and we need to be on top of our game if we’re going to bring Mahoney down.”

         He plopped me on the bed. I stared at Charlie’s extremely pleasant face and laughed. “Trying to make the move on me before Mahoney does?”

         Charlie smiled as he kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed beside me. “Non, I’ve seen you in every type of get-up and disguise imaginable, and I’ve seen you naked more times than any man in your life. To answer your question, yes, you’re breasts wield only a little less power than your face, but if all of it got taken away it still wouldn’t touch what thrills me most.”

         I searched his deep brown eyes for answers. “What would that be?”

         Charlie wiggled down on the bed, and then turned me away from him so he could spoon me. “Your mind Non, I just love your mind.”

         “Charlie, do you think we’ve got enough on Mahoney to finally get an indictment?”

         “You don’t think we’ve gotten solid evidence from the investigations?”

         Turning on my back, I stared at the ceiling while imaging Mahoney’s slimy face. “I just have a weird feeling about this investigation. I know we work for the same team, but something seems off with the New York office.”

         “Come on Non, we’ve worked with New York for years. You’re cranky because you got called here before you were ready. Besides that, you’re tired and you get crazy ideas when you have insomnia.”

         I turned and looked in Charlie’s eyes. “When have I ever had crazy ideas?”

         “How about for the past sixteen years. You get a hair up your butt, and it winds its way up to lodge in your brain, where it festers until you have to involve me in your madness.”

         I squinted at him. “And have the ideas never paid off?”

         Charlie pushed the hair off my face. “Only a few times in sixteen years.”

         “You know, the more I think about Mindy, the more I’m concerned something is going to go wrong. She’s always seemed ditzy when we watched her, however today she wasn’t flaky at all. In fact, she seemed well aware of the entire art scene and far surpassed Mahoney in the manners department. I think Mindy’s been hiding her light for fear it will outshine that wad of lard Mahoney.”

         “That’s crap talk Non, you feel for her because she’s a blonde.”

         I touched Charlie’s cheek as I watched his eyes. “I feel for her because she’s a human being that doesn’t deserve the likes of Mahoney knocking her around while he’s getting off.”

         “Now I know you’re crazy. Where’d you get an idea like that?”

         I turned away from Charlie and reformed my body with his. “You call yourself an observer. Beneath all that heavy makeup was a large bruise across her cheekbone, you only get that from a blow by a fist. Believe me, I know how it feels, and I know what it looks like after a perpetrator has had his way.”

         Charlie pulled me closer as if to ward off the memories. Charlie and I had slept like this for years just to keep us sane—that is if we ever slept.

         “Charlie?”

         “Yeah sweetie?”

         “Are we ever going to have an affair?”

         His embrace grew tighter. “Not yet.”

         “Oh. Why?”

         “Your gun always gets in the way. Now stop talking and go to sleep.”

         I closed my eyes and smiled. My last conscious thoughts were of Julian Mahoney’s gut exploding as another round of bullets blew the dead beaver off his head.

§ § §

         Charlie’s and my week flew by with only a passing nod to each other. While he was in the field tracking Mahoney’s shipments, I was forced to remain at the gallery and prepare for my show.

         Unease crept along my skin as I viewed my artwork displayed on foreign walls. Last year, my best friend Andrea’s husband had been arrested for murder, as well as running a drug cartel. Charlie and I had broken the case, but the fallout had left Andrea and me in an odd place regarding our friendship. She had given me my nickname of Non, stating at five years old that my name Nancy Olivia Newton sounded stupid. The nickname had stuck through adulthood and now it was a rare moment if I heard Nancy used by a friend.

         I sighed as I stared at the art, no longer seeing shape or color, just the years of being undercover that I had successfully hidden from my best friend—until now. Despite putting Steve in federal prison, I missed his expertise as my art agent. Now, I had a handler from the FBI as an agent until I could work through the years of Steve’s betrayal and the resulting anger with Andrea from mine.

         Tears etched their way down my cheeks as I straightened a frame. A hand appeared from nowhere, offering a handkerchief. Turning, I stared into Charlie’s concerned face, accepting the proffered cloth.

         I looked at the soiled handkerchief. “Don’t you own any square of material without oil paint adorning it?”

         Charlie grinned. “Do you?”

         I dabbed my eyes and laughed. “No.” Charlie was a brilliant portrait artist and had his own art groupies that clamored after his work. “Kind of goes with the territory, huh?”

         “Something like that. Why the tears?”

         I waved him away. “Nothing I can change.”

         “Sweetie, I know this is the first show since Steve got arrested. Don’t doubt yourself, your work is great.”

         I looked around to make sure no one was listening. “Yeah, I suppose—for an FBI agent anyway.”

         “Pity parties aren’t your style Non, and I’m not going to waste my time trying to bolster your ego by telling you how everyone loves your work. We chose this life and all it entails, the wonderful accolades of the art world and the non-existence of undercover work. We’re good, that’s why we stay in this game, besides, bullets only paint a landscape with red. Enjoy your show tonight; it’s one of your best.”

         I stepped into Charlie’s embrace. “I hate that guy who’s supposed to be my agent. I don’t like the idea of constantly being watched.”

         “And this coming from a professional voyeur. Get over it Non, we may have a problem on the Mahoney front.”

         I pulled away from Charlie. “What now?”

         “Mindy’s disappeared.”

         The knot in my stomach grew. “Do you think he killed her?”

         “I don’t know, Mindy’s usually a permanent fixture on his arm. Mahoney’s been out flashing laundered money for days without Mindy to light his way with her smile.”

         “Has someone tried to get to her and make her give Mahoney up?”

         The sparkle left Charlie’s eyes. “Yeah, some fool stepped in without asking either the guys in LA or me for an opinion. The idiot talked to her two days ago and no one has seen Mindy since.”

         “I suppose we’ll have to see if they show up tonight. Is there any news on the import front?”

         “There is a ship putting into dock tonight, we’re pretty sure the shipment is weapons.”

         I breathed deeply. Even though I could shoot someone if needed, I didn’t like the idea of a bunch of guns in the hands of criminals able to shoot me. “When are we hitting the docks?”

         Charlie looked uneasy. “We aren’t.”

         “What?”

         “You have to be here for the show tonight.”

         “But I’ve been in on this from the beginning. I deserve to see how this goes down; I want Mahoney sitting in prison next to all the other thugs we’ve put away.”

         Charlie looked even more uneasy. “Well, if it happens tonight you aren’t allowed to be there—orders from Washington. The New York office is trying to get a fix on some of the players in an art theft ring that they have been investigating—major players, major money. Some of them were at that auction along with Mahoney and were invited here tonight.”

         “Why wasn’t I informed of this?”

         “You are covering too many bases Non, from creating a show to establishing contact with the art world here. We have to keep building these cases against the people involved otherwise they’ll slip through the cracks after a year of investigative work.”

         “So, do I get to know who these phantom players are?”

         Charlie handed me a sealed envelope. “Pictures and descriptions are enclosed, as usual memorize the stuff and destroy it. I have to take a meeting; I’ll leave a number where you can reach me.”

         He pulled a pen from his pocket and wrote a number on the folder, the ink from the pen leaking in navy blue blobs across the paper as he wrote. “Damnit!”

         “Forget it. Just tell me and I’ll memorize the number as well. I’m heading back to the hotel to rest before tonight.”

         Charlie stared at me. “I know you think this is unfair, none of this was my doing. I have no control over this investigation, I’m just trying to get Mahoney behind bars and us back to LA. I’ll be here for the show with you, and then I’ll have to slip away. With the art players coming tonight you’ll have the New York agents watching them as well as Mahoney, the guys from LA along with some other agents from here will cover the docks with me.”

         I sighed. “I know you’re here for me, we’re just a cog in the federal wheel.”

         A warm pair of lips planted a kiss on my cheek. “We’ll keep getting the bad guys and we’ll try to go on with our private lives. I meant what I’ve said for years; I love you sweetie, nothing will ever change that.”

         “Alright. Go. Bring the criminals to justice and I’ll sell my pretty pictures.”

         A kiss on my forehead and he was out the door. I stared hard at my art. Maybe it was time Charlie and I got out of the game.

§ § §

         The sound of a loud pop made me grab my purse out of reflex.

         “Easy girl, the sounds you hear are champagne corks flying in honor of your show.” Charlie grinned as he sidled up to me and handed me a drink. “You got that pea-shooter in your purse? You aren’t going to do a lot of damage with it.”

         I sipped on the champagne as I surreptitiously surveyed the crowded gallery. “I couldn’t very well strap a .45 under the dress, could I? Even the .38 is too big to hide.”

         “Non, you couldn’t hide air under that dress.”

         “Just aiming to please Julian Mahoney with my fashion savvy.”

         “You’d have pleased him more if you’d shown up at his home wearing only five inch Lucite heels.”

         “You know Charlie, that .22 of mine is excellent when shot at close range into someone’s head. Why, there isn’t even an exit wound, the bullet just keeps ricocheting around inside the skull, turning the brain into a nice bowl of chunky, gray salsa.”

         Charlie grinned at my gun talk. “I’d love to continue this sexy exchange, but Mahoney just walked in, flanked by alias Smith and Jones of the theft ring.”

         I took another sip of champagne and watched Mahoney waddle through the room. Scanning the crowd, I searched for Mindy’s platinum head. “Do you see Mindy?”

         Charlie watched the thug-parade as it traveled through the gallery. “No…wait, she’s on the arm of one of Mahoney’s associates. Interesting set up, but at least Mindy’s alive.”

         I breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah, for now anyway. Well, I suppose it’s show time, wish me luck Charlie. God, I hope he’s chewing gum this time instead of a skunk.”

         Charlie’s laugh escorted me half way across the room, the rest of the way I flew solo, dreading the exciting exchange sure to be belched my way. Walking into the situation with Mahoney and company made me feel as if I’d entered a bad Broadway production of Guys and Dolls, only with real guns in play. Smiling the most genuine smile I could muster, I greeted the wall of criminals.

         Ms. Schulze, Mr. Mahoney, I’m pleased you could make it this evening. Would you care for some champagne?”

         Mahoney’s lard quivered as he inspected me. “Sure. That’s some dress girlie, I don’t even think Mindy could look that good.”

         Glancing Mindy’s way, I noticed her wan smile didn’t quite reach the fading black eye she was sporting beneath her makeup. Though my gun was small, its voice grew in steady increments to a fevered pitch, as I controlled the urge to shoot Mahoney’s smug face, and then his impotent manhood.

         I decided I’d leave Mahoney’s comment alone. “Ms. Schulze, I think you look ravishing tonight. You carry yourself with such poise and grace, your dress is quite beautiful, I love that shade of green.”

         Mahoney spoke, his deadly breath wafting my way. The need to gag became overwhelming as I struggled to swallow. “Yeah, that color always reminds me of money.”

         Leave it to him to steal a compliment, equating it with a monetary element. I smiled at Mindy. “I’m fond of the color of money myself. In fact, if you’re interested in parting with some, I have walls full of art awaiting buyers.”

         Mindy genuinely smiled this time. Yeah, she wasn’t as dumb as I’d first thought. Turning my gaze to the other men in Mahoney’s party, I held out my hand. “I’m sorry for being rude, my name is Nancy Newton.” My gun and I waited for another cookie joke. I guess Mindy had informed Mahoney it wasn’t nice to make fun of an artist, although it didn’t stop him from speaking for everyone.

         “The guy with Mindy is Russell Tanner, and these guys are Phillip Brown and Stanley Black. They represent a co-op of new artists in the Village; they got invitations since this is your first show here.”

         “Nice to meet all of you.” As I shook hands, I placed each face with their correct names and surveillance photos. Black and Brown worked out of the Village alright, only they worked with forgers of fine art as well as currency plates for counterfeiting. Tanner was nothing but crime muscle; knowing he escorted Mindy meant Mahoney wasn’t happy with her.

         Mahoney grabbed my arm. “Hey, I thought you were going to show me your pictures cookie.”

         Apparently the hulking mass of smooth brain grabbing my arm felt justified in elevating me from mere girlie to cookie without permission. As my gun screamed for action, I shot a glance Mindy’s way. She looked frightened that I wouldn’t accept Mahoney’s form of cockeyed nicety.

         I put my arm through Mahoney’s, disgusted at the thought of touching him, repulsed at the degradation Mindy must suffer as he slammed his fleshy mass into her. “Of course, let’s begin the tour with my studies in blue.”

         While acting as tour guide for the felons, life among the agents grew restless. They watched the crowd, their incessant chatter over my earpiece growing annoying. Brown and Black had excused themselves from my tour and had begun mingling with the legitimate buyers and dealers. After a few glasses of champagne and several conversations later they left the gallery, soon followed by two agents posing as a married couple who owned a small gallery.

         Charlie sauntered my way with enough swagger to hold Mindy’s attention and then some. He flashed her an enchanting smile while Mahoney watched with interest.

         “Hello Ms. Schulze, Mr. Mahoney, it’s good to see both of you here this evening. Are you enjoying the show?”

         Mahoney held onto my arm. “Yeah, cookie here’s been telling us about how she gets her inspiration and where she paints on location…”

         Charlie raised an eyebrow at my new name, but didn’t interrupt Mahoney’s ramblings.

         “…kinda boring hearing it, but she can paint a good picture. Frankly Pemberton, I’d like to see what she could paint from the view of my place.”

         Charlie never skipped a beat. “Oh, do you live near beautiful scenery?”

         Mahoney laughed vulgarly. “I thought she could paint a scene from somewhere in my bedroom.”

         My insides retched at the thought. Withdrawing my arm became difficult as Mahoney claimed me. My laugh sounded hollow in my ears, luckily Charlie spoke before I screamed.

         “I think you may have embarrassed Nancy into non-speech, she isn’t quite used to such offers.”

         I managed to pull my arm from Mahoney without losing it. Mahoney gave me a strange look.

         “I thought Pemberton wasn’t your husband cookie, it seems to me he’s butting in where he doesn’t have a claim.”

         I struggled for calm. “Charles and I are old friends; he is always concerned for me. While the offer sounds intriguing, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. If you will excuse me I should visit with some of the other patrons interested in my work, I’m sure Charles will be able to answer any further questions you may have regarding my paintings. Ms. Schulze, it’s been a pleasure seeing you again.”

         For the first time in years, I had to force myself not to run away from a scene. I walked slowly, gazing at the crowd, not seeing anything except Julian Mahoney’s mass lying naked on a bed waiting for me to service him.

         The bathroom was the only place of escape Mahoney couldn’t enter. Grabbing paper towels and wetting them gave my mind the chance to disengage before I hit my neck with their cool promise.

         Over sixteen years, I’d been around and been involved in the arrest of some disgusting people and none of them affected me as much as Julian Mahoney. Even the fact that he was obese didn’t really bother me; it was simply the fact that he felt the undeniable need to own people and put his brand of degradation on those he enslaved. I closed my eyes while breathing deeply in an attempt to eliminate his portrait seared on my retinas.

         “Julian is a pig Ms. Newton, I’m so sorry he insulted you.”

         My eyes flew open. I hadn’t heard anyone enter the bathroom and chastised myself for allowing a vulnerable moment that could have cost me my life. The mirror reflected Mindy’s tired face, her smile no longer a beacon. Instead, she looked ancient before her time from putting up with Mahoney.

         “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

         Mindy approached me. “Julian speaks to people, especially women, with absolutely no regard unless he’s going to gain power or money. Women are just things for him to conquer.”

         I studied Mindy’s solemn countenance. “You don’t have to apologize for him, you didn’t participate in the insults, I’m not blaming you in the least.”

         Her taught expression relaxed, aging her even more. “Thank you. I didn’t want you left with the impression I felt the same way or condoned his actions.”

         Mindy seemed unwilling to leave. “Have you dated Mr. Mahoney long?”

         Mindy laughed the hollow sound that had earlier rung in my head. “What a delicate way to phrase my involvement, you’re definitely are a class act. Julian and I have dated for about ten years.”

         Though I was aware how long they’d been together, it still shocked me hearing her sad voice admit it. “Well, you must find something endearing in Mr. Mahoney to have remained his girlfriend.”

         All pretense shattered as Mindy’s face crumbled. “Endearing? I’m his whore Ms. Newton. No, I take that back, whores get paid for their time.”

         Oh shit. Mindy was having a meltdown while her gangster boyfriend and Mr.-I’d-rather-kill-you-as-soon-as-look-at-you mob muscle, were undoubtedly standing outside the door listening.

         “Ms. Newton, can you help me get out?”

         “Get out?”

         “I want to leave Julian. I’ve seen too much of his business dealings and too many of his associates to get out alive. I’ve only stayed so long because he’s always threatened to kill my parents.”

         I breathed deeply, hoping someone was hearing my conversation. “How is it you think I can help you leave Mr. Mahoney?”

         Mindy gave me an odd look. “Someone approached me the other day, guaranteeing my safety if I left Julian.”

         Panic edged along my brain as I remembered Charlie telling me of the agent that had taken Mindy’s contact into his own hands. I’d have to buy some time while trying to get Mindy to safety. “Oh? If someone approached you with something like that, perhaps this could be your opportunity to leave.”

         Mindy’s odd expression became odder. “I don’t trust the guy.”

         Great, just great. “What makes you think I could guarantee your safety?”

         “Because you’re FBI.”

         The blood drained away from me faster than if I’d been sucked dry by a vampire. Pain infused my head as my heart pumped overtime trying to keep me alive. “I don’t know where you got that idea. FBI? Ms. Schulze—Mindy, I’m just an artist that lives a hum-drum little life in a small town near the central coast of California. My big outings are when I get the opportunity of showing my paintings someplace like New York.”

         “You aren’t going to help me?”

         How was I going to maintain my front and get her help, knowing my cover was probably blown and Mahoney or his cronies were going to put a bullet in Mindy and me? “Listen Mindy, I’m not an FBI agent, however, I’ll try to help you somehow. God knows I’ve been in enough bad relationships to see the signs. He beats you doesn’t he?”

         Any composure Mindy had gained fell away as she spoke one shaky word.

         “Yes.”

         “Are you ever able to get away from him?”

         “Sometimes I can leave to do shopping, but he’s having me watched. The guy with me tonight is a bodyguard.”

         “Is there a way you could meet me at my hotel for lunch tomorrow and we can figure out a plan or something? I don’t know what, but I’m willing to help.”

         “And you’re not FBI?”

         “No Mindy, I’m not. If that guy approached you was FBI, he never would have said I was. Perhaps you made the assumption because he came to you around the same time I invited you to my show. Not knowing me, I can see where you could be misled.

         “Whatever the case, I will try to help you, I don’t like women being beaten or enslaved. If Mahoney is waiting for you, I suggest you fix your makeup and pretend nothing happened in here except using the facilities. Don’t change how you react, don’t deviate from how you were earlier this evening. Mindy, don’t give Mahoney a chance to kill you.”

         Mindy’s face matched her hair color. I had to hand it to her, she had guts. Now, if we could make it our of Mahoney’s fat clutches, it would be a miracle.

         Alarm bells began to clang inside the bathroom. I looked at Mindy, who seemed to have gone somewhere in her head I wasn’t sure I could reach.

         “Mindy? Mindy!”

         Her pale face began an advance toward green as she stared.

         “Mindy, look at me. That alarm is a fire alarm; we have to leave the bathroom now. I’m going to lead you out of here because I’m sure Mahoney is looking for you. Can you remember to call me tomorrow so we can have lunch and talk about getting you away from him? Mindy, are you alright?”

         Suddenly her brain clicked into action. “I’m okay, the noise startled me. Yes, I’ll call your hotel tomorrow, I want out of this nightmare.”

         I nodded and grabbed her hand, leading her from the bathroom and straight into Mahoney’s fleshy arms. An expression crossed his face I couldn’t quite decipher as he grabbed Mindy’s other arm.

         “Come on Mindy, we’re getting out of here, they say there’s a bomb in here.”

         Mindy shot me a panicked look when I let go of her arm, as if she were losing her tether to the real world. If she only knew my real world was often as abusive and jaded as hers, she might think twice about me helping her.

         I watched Mahoney’s upset face. “I’m really sorry Mr. Mahoney, thank you for coming tonight. You had better leave, I need to find my things and leave as well.”

         Mahoney squint his beady eyes at me. “We have some business to discuss cookie, I’ll be in contact.

         With that ambiguous remark, Mahoney, Mindy and the ever-present Tanner left the building.

         I searched for Charlie as the alarm continued to sound. My FBI handler approached me, his expression blank as he spoke.

         “It’s time we move from here, the bomb squad will arrive shortly.”

         “Where’s Charlie?”

         “Mr. Pemberton had to leave; apparently he received a call from his mother.”

         I relaxed. Charlie received a lot of calls from his mom—our code for him leaving me and going into the field. The chatter over my earpiece went dead. A lone voice began to speak.

         “There isn’t a bomb, proceed as if there is. Good recovery with Ms. Schulze, however we are checking to see of your cover has been blown by someone. Lee will escort you to your hotel where you will wait until we are able to determine if you are a target.”

         Not only did I hate being told what to do, I hated the mandates delivered by a disembodied voice. Staring at Lee, knowing he’d heard the command as well, didn’t make the situation easier or his presence any more endearing.

         “Lee, take me to the hotel where I may hole up like some criminal being investigated.”

         “Nancy, that isn’t what he meant; the team is trying to protect you now that Mindy told you were FBI.”

         I walked swiftly toward the back of the gallery in an attempt to get away from everyone, each step making me angrier. I swung around and faced Lee’s expressionless face. “And who gave me up Lee?”

         “What are you talking about?”

         “Mindy didn’t grab FBI molecules from the air and form an agent named Nancy. You heard her, whoever approached her either alluded to or blatantly told her I was FBI. All of our lives are always on the line when we investigate; especially Charlie’s and mine since we are continually undercover.

         “I want that guy’s name that approached Mindy in order to bring her in, I also want a complete dossier on him so I know what to expect when he gets near me. No, I take that back, tell Washington to keep him away from me, I don’t need to end up with my throat slashed because he had to make himself important.”

         “Nancy, you’re overreacting.”

         “If you ever use that word to me again you’ll regret it. You weren’t in a room with someone while they had a meltdown because they were abused and afraid.” I pushed my five-foot four-inch frame into his chest.

         “You didn’t smell her fear as it spread across her skin, knowing she’d have to go home with that thug Mahoney and wait for him to beat her while he screwed her. You weren’t the one getting crap innuendo dumped all over you by a crime boss while forced to wear a provocative dress and stiletto heels, and then play dumb. So spare me that quaint term. You’re not my boss, my husband, or my lover, and you’re teetering near the edge of not being my art agent. I’ll go back to the hotel and wait, but I’ll see myself home—alone.”

         “Nancy…”

         “Oh, and that’s another thing. It is Ms. Newton to you, don’t make me pull rank.”

         The disembodied voice was back in my ear. “Agent Newton, Agent Saunders will escort you to your hotel—now. Please leave through the back, the bomb squad is now onsite.”

         “Fine.” Scooping up my belongings, I made a swift exit out the rear of the gallery, where a private car stood waiting. Agent Lee Saunders held the door as I entered the vehicle. Suddenly there was little oxygen to breathe as I remembered Mahoney’s odd expression when Mindy and I had left the bathroom. The interior of the car seemed to shrink as I struggled for air, realizing I could easily have been put in Mahoney’s car and never seen again. I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly while thoughts of my coffin filled my head.

§ § §

         Pacing the hotel room as I tried to think of a way out for Mindy was accomplishing nothing but making me tired and angry. A knock on my door startled me. I opened the door to a hotel employee holding an envelope.

         “This note was left at the front desk for you.”

         “Thanks.” After closing the door, I opened the envelope and found a note from Charlie.

         There has been a change of plans, meet me on the docks. Shipment is in and we need help your help. The pier’s number and location are on the reverse side of the note.

         I turned the page over, studying the roughly drawn map. Removing my designer dress, I donned the clothing I wore while doing surveillance work. A few minutes later, I was on the street and ushered into a waiting car, unsure of my next meeting with the dark unknown.

         The car pulled into a secluded area of the docks located at Port Newark-Elizabeth Marine Terminal. Several agents, along with the Port Authority were running this portion of the show; I was here as back-up, plain and simple, though I was a main player in this Mahoney charade.

         I was used to being pared with other agents besides Charlie when we did surveillance work; however it always made me feel as if my back were vulnerable since Charlie always tucked himself thoroughly there. My new partner for the evening and I became as shadows, creeping along the cargo containers already offloaded from Mahoney’s ship.

         Through the moonless night, what I knew to be agents looked like moving blobs of black. A head crowned in a black knit cap that covered his sandy-blonde hair turned toward me, a smile spreading across his tense face.

         A sense of relief spread through me as I eased alongside Charlie. I whispered in his ear. “Hey you.”

         His voice was hushed in the silent night. “Looks as if they let you out of the hotel room after all.”

         I rolled my eyes, showing my usual disdain for authoritarian missives. Charlie silently laughed.

         “What’s the status Charlie?”

         “They’ve offloaded some of the cargo, but a good portion is still onboard. All the dock personnel are our agents and we haven’t been given a signal to go in. We’re just waiting.”

         I nodded, training my night-vision binoculars on the ship. Things seemed to remain in a steady flow pattern as we watched, and then chatter started on my earpiece. Charlie and several agents left us with their guns pulled, while those in charge began orders with hand signals. My new partner led me through a labyrinth of cargo and palettes, eventually working us within several hundred feet of the ship.

         Hiding behind a forklift, continuing my surveillance, my partner advanced stealth-like around a metal container and disappeared. I watched through the inkiness of night and listened to the lull of lapping water against the ship’s hull, wondering if Charlie was getting any more action than me.

         Where was Mahoney? Was he at home beating on Mindy as we staked out his alleged shipment of weapons, or was he sitting in a car monitoring our movements? Whatever way I thought about it, I didn’t like the way this investigation was unraveling. Most of all, I didn’t like the idea I was being delivered into Mahoney’s hands by a turncoat within the ranks of the FBI.

§ § §

         The latest blow from his fist caused my head to ricochet against the cement wall. Bursts of pain seared through it, matching the burning ache in my side from being kicked. Jagged prisms clicked across my eyesight as I tried to focus, reminding me of a kaleidoscope in the hands of a speed freak.

         Staring through the colored shards of vision brought no recognition of my surroundings, yet I continued to focus in a desperate attempt to know where I’d been dumped. The grayed slabs of stone provided little information for my rattled thoughts, though I noted the grime clinging to them in textured thoroughness had taken years to accumulate, lending an air of dungeon to the room.

         The sound of sporadic movement drew my attention from the wall, turning my head shot a bout of nausea through me as I watched the man pace. I listened to his eerily pitched voice mutter a continual strain of madness, the verbosity of his speech echoing the velocity of his steps. Diverting my stare came a moment too late as the man honed in and started advancing, his hands quick to grab me from the ground and slam me against the stone wall, backhanding me across the face as he screamed.

         “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

         My head spun with the new assault, the taste of copper pennies lay heavy on my tongue as I swallowed hard. I looked into his faraway eyes, a bead of sweat trickling down between his brows, his breathing as heavy as mine. I watched the faraway expression travel further as it wove through his increasing insanity. There would never be a correct answer for him; perhaps if I kept him talking it would diffuse the anger.

         While he pinned me against the wall, his other hand brought a gun to rest underneath my jaw. He spoke slowly this time, enunciating each word with deliberate clarity. “I said, why are you looking at me?”

         “I wasn’t, I was just trying to figure out where I am.”

         His grimace didn’t make it to a smile, never mind reach his fevered eyes. He ground the muzzle of the gun further into my flesh, and then loosened his grip, allowing me to slide to the floor. A derisive snort preceded his words. “Welcome to hell.”

         I worked my hands in an attempt to free them from their duct tape bonds, while furtively scanning the room for a way out.

         He stooped in front me. “Time to bite the bullet, there is no way out.”

         “Why did you bring me here, what did I do to you?”

         He ran the gun along my cheek as he spoke. “Mr. Mahoney has special plans for you—very special plans.”

         My head began to clear as I worked my hands. That’s right, keep him talking. I closed my eyes and took a steadying breath, then opened my eyes. “What does Mr. Mahoney want to see me about in this place? I spoke with him at my gallery show this evening; I would have happily continued the conversation at his home if he had wanted to.”

         “That so huh?”

         I stared unflinchingly into his insane-looking eyes. My memory began returning in disoriented pieces, making me realize I’d probably been hit, and then drugged after I’d waited for my new partner to return. Where was Charlie, and how had our plan gone so awry?

         “Yeah, that’s so.”

         The man rose and resumed his pacing. I watched his movements while I continued loosening the tape. Was Charlie dead? I didn’t want to entertain the thought of my partner for the past sixteen years lying with a bullet in his head because we’d somehow gone too deep undercover trying to flush out Mahoney and his thugs.

         Struggling with the tape gave me something to do while I worked a new plan. “I’ll tell you what; I’ll give you whatever money you need if you’ll help me. I’m a well-known artist, there will be people looking for me. Is it a ransom you’re after? There are people that will pay for my return; you’d be rich and I’d be happy, doesn’t that seem like a good outcome for you?”

         The man crouched in front me. “You want me dead like Mindy when she
double-crosses Mahoney? No thanks. I don’t want them finding me the way she looks after Mahoney gets through with her.” A strange glint crossed the man’s eyes as he spoke. “It wasn’t last night when you saw Mahoney; you’ve been here for two days.”

         My mind reeled with that new information. If I’d been drugged for two days there was no telling what was happening on the outside of this cement cell. Maybe all the agents the night of the raid were dead and I was soon to meet them after this freak had his way with me. Panic sliced my gut as I thought of Mahoney entering the building and raping me.

         I worked harder on the tape, soon freeing my hands, and then pulled a length of wire from inside the waistband of my pants. Would this guy anticipate my next move? I smiled wickedly. “Perhaps we can make another type of deal if you free me.”

         His amber eyes shone, matching the yellowed nicotine stain of his hideous grin. He leaned in to me as if to seal the deal for Mahoney with a kiss.

         I pulled my legs back, and then shot them full force at his chest in a rabbit kick. His body recoiled from the blow, landing him on the cement floor, as shots from his gun went wild. I prayed for forgiveness as I prepared to attack. Thrusting my body atop him, I wrapped the length of wire around his throat and began to tighten. The gun discharged as his arm flailed while he tried to dislodge the wire, the stray bullets ricocheting off the cement wall.

         His body bucked against mine while I rode him harder to the floor, my grasp on the wire loosening as I fought not only him, but blacking out. My thoughts turned inward while I fought, asking myself the same question I always asked when taking on a killer. Would I live?

         His breath came in convulsive gasps, his body continuing to buck as his eyes went wild and fixed. Then nothing. No breath. No movement. No life.

         I rolled off his death and stared at the gray that had almost become my tomb. I would never look upon that color with anything except revulsion filling my head.

         Gunfire echoed through my head. As I fought the sensation to throw up, I rolled to my knees and stood on wobbly legs. Screams could be heard, working their way to me as I stood on a precipice of madness, listening to the howling of the grim reaper’s canticle of death.

         The door caved in, men entered through it’s maw with their guns trained on me. Charlie’s voice filled my head as I sank to the cement floor in a confused heap.

         “Non—Nancy, stay with me. It’s Charlie; no one is going to hurt you.”

         I looked into his chocolaty brown eyes and began running my fingers through my hair, feeling the bumps where I’d been hit. Pulling my hand away with a clump of my blonde hair covered in blood unnerved me, as I fought crying with every other emotion I possessed.

         As I continued staring at Charlie, my eyes began to well, causing my vision to haze. He gingerly touched the eye I could no longer see through from the swelling, his voice gentle as he spoke.

         “You’re going to be alright sweetie. Try to remain focused on me; the paramedics are on their way.”

         I felt myself drifting toward an eerie place in my head, a place well past pain where only shock dwelt. “Just tell me Mahoney’s dead or at least behind bars.”

         “They are serving a warrant on him as we speak.”

         “He killed Mindy.”

         “No, but Mahoney certainly tried. We found her beaten, and with a bullet in her; we think whoever did it thought she was dead. Mindy was found in the trunk of a car and was about to be dumped somewhere.”

         Mindy didn’t deserve that type of treatment, no matter how dumb she looked or acted. No one did. “Charlie?”

         “Yeah Non?”

         “That guy that tried to get Mindy to come into the FBI was a mole for Mahoney, wasn’t he? Is he the guy that tried to kill Mindy? He was the guy who they partnered me with at the dock, wasn't he?”

         What I could see of Charlie’s expression made me want to scream.

         “Yeah. He set up Mindy to set you up. Thank God he’s in custody or I would be looking at a murder charge. You were right about something being off with the New York Office, I apologize for ever doubting you.”

         “Charlie?”

         “Sweetie, we need to get you out of here.”

         “I want to have an affair now.”

         “Non, you’ve just suffered through a traumatic experience while facing death; this isn’t a good time to decide what we want to do.”

         “But…”

         “You think I’m changing my mind about how I feel, I’m not. I look into those blue eyes of yours and want to swim in their depths, but I want us to really think about our future before we do anything we would regret.”

         My head was swimming with sparkly lights indicating I was passing out. “We could try a date.”

         “Is your gun going to get in the way?”

         “Probably.”

         “We'll talk about this later. You’re really sure about this?”

         “Yes. Just keep out of the way of my bullets.”

         The last thing I heard from Charlie before I tumbled into a black hole was: “I told you I always like how your mind works.”

The End