High-Caliber Concealer Page 3

  “The holidays? Mom, it’s the middle of summer.”

  “The perfect time to start watching those holiday air fares. Plus, I talked to your grandmother and she really wants us to come home this year. And I thought you might want to invite Z’ev.”

  “Uh…” said Nikki. She hadn’t been expecting the conversation to go straight to the dating side. “I’m not sure we’re there yet.”

  “You’re twenty-six, Nicole. You’d better start thinking about being there. Besides, you’ve been living together for over a year.”

  “Uh, I’ll think about it,” said Nikki. Thinking about that was about the last thing she wanted to do, but a flat refusal would only make the nagging worse. “Is that all you were going to leave a message about?”

  “Oh, no, I was going to tell you about your grandmother.”

  “You already said, Mom. She wants us to come home.”

  “Yeah, that. No, I was going to tell you what she said about Donny Fernandez. You remember your friend from elementary school?”

  Nikki felt her heart freeze.

  “What about Donny, Mom?”

  “Apparently, he joined the police force down in Tacoma. Can’t think why anyone lives there. Only now, he’s missing!”

  “Missing?” repeated Nikki.

  “Oh yes,” said Nell, relishing the details. “Apparently, a policewoman came out to see his mom last week to explain that Donny is missing. Has been missing for weeks. He went undercover in a combined police DEA operation and they lost track of him.”

  “Are you supposed to know about the thing with the DEA?”

  “Well, they had to tell his mother. And Grandma said it was top secret and I wasn’t to tell anyone, but who are you going to tell? Anyway,” Nell continued, sounding blasé on the subject, “if he doesn’t turn up soon, the department’s going to hold a funeral. It’s a tragedy.”

  “His mom and sisters must be freaking out,” said Nikki.

  “Pretty much. It’s really terrible,” said Nell, sounding sad in the distant way of someone totally unrelated. “Anyway, that was it. You should really think about the holidays.”

  “Yeah, I’ll do that, Mom,” mumbled Nikki, still thinking about Donny. How was she going to get him out of this mess?

  July IV

  Lunch

  Ice cream and the beach. It was a great Sunday routine. Although, considering how rarely either of them was in town for successive weeks, it wasn’t much of a routine. Nikki considered every Sunday a luxury. When her phone rang, Z’ev groaned, and flipped it over.

  “It’s work,” he said, handing it to her.

  “I’m ignoring it,” she said. He held the phone out, surprise clear on his face.

  “I’ll go get the ice cream,” he said, a subtle thank you. They usually argued about who had to leave the safety of the blanket to trek across the sand for ice cream. “Vanilla and sprinkles?” he asked reaching into her bag for his wallet.

  “Yes, please,” said Nikki. She admired his calves as they walked past her field of vision, then rolled over to check out his butt as he walked away.

  As soon as he was out of view, Nikki grabbed her phone and hit call back.

  “This is the Carrie Mae Foundation,” said the polite female voice that answered on the first ring. “How can we help you help the world?” It was the Foundation’s newest tagline and they were repeating it into irritation.

  “This is Nikki Lanier. You just called me?” said Nikki, hoping they had something on Donny for her.

  “Just one moment,” said the voice and then Nikki heard the cheerful tones of Blame it on the Bossanova, until a second voice picked up the phone.

  “Voice identification, please.”

  “He only does it to annoy, because he knows it teases,” quoted Nikki.

  “Thank you, Nicole.” Nikki knew that her file must have popped up on the info tech’s computer screen. It was the only time anyone called her Nicole. “You put a Don Fernandez and Emmanuel Ruiz on the watch list?”

  “Yes,” said Nikki.

  “We have an agent removing an informant from a dangerous situation. This person does have information about Emmanuel Ruiz and is willing to talk to you, but briefly. They can be at your location in two minutes, do you want a meeting?”

  “Yes,” answered Nikki firmly. She stood up and slipped into her flip-flops. Pinching the phone between her ear and her shoulder, she tied her wrap around her waist and grabbed the pink straw bag, heading for the parking lot.

  “Transferring your call to Melissa now.”

  “The GPS says I’m right on top of you, but I could use a few more landmarks,” said a brisk voice almost immediately.

  “The parking lot south of the Ferris Wheel. Redhead next to the blue Impala,” said Nikki, jogging to make her statement true. She had barely arrived at the car when a low riding, black-windowed, acid green two-door Honda Civic pulled to a stop.

  “Hey, you Nicole?” asked the driver, getting out. She was about Nikki’s age and wore sagged Dickies and a white tank top over a black bra.

  “Melissa?” The girl nodded.

  “That your car?” she asked, jerking her head toward the Impala as she walked around to the passenger side of her car.

  “Yeah,” said Nikki, feeling the familiar twinge of car guilt.

  “Nice.”

  “Thanks. Yours too.”

  “What do you want to know about Emmanuel Ruiz?” asked Melissa, pausing with her hand on the door handle.

  “I don’t actually, but I have a friend who’s an undercover cop. I think he’s in trouble and I know he’s going after Ruiz. I need to find my friend before something happens to him.” Melissa nodded and opened the passenger door. Sitting in the passenger seat was a little girl of about nine or ten. She had big dark eyes and clutched a purple backpack nervously.

  “This is Elly Ruiz,” said Melissa. “She’s going to stay with her grandparents.” The little girl nodded.

  “Hi, Elly,” said Nikki softly, kneeling down to look Elly in the eye.

  “Hola,” whispered Elly.

  “Do you know where your father is?”

  “She doesn’t speak a lot of English,” said Melissa.

  “Donde està su padre, hoy?” asked Nikki switching languages.

  “Èl va al parque.”

  “Park?” repeated Nikki. “Which park? Que parque?”

  “MacArthur,” said Elly. “Por el carmelo grande.”

  “By the big candy?” asked Nikki, looking up at Melissa in confusion. Melissa shook her head.

  “Caramelo rojo grande,” repeated Elly, nodding. She let go of her backpack and gestured with both hands up above her head. Suddenly Melissa laughed.

  “The Big Candy. It’s a sculpture in MacArthur Park. Big red thing with white blobs on it. Sits up on these stilt things. On the 6th Street side of the park.” Nikki nodded.

  “Do you know when, Elly?” asked Nikki. “Cuando?”

  Elly held up one hand, her fingers spread.

  “Cinco?” asked Nikki, and Elly nodded.

  “Gracias,” said Nikki, leaning into the car to hug the little girl. “You were a big help.”

  “Is she going to be safe with her grandparents?” asked Nikki, as Melissa shut the car door.

  “Should be,” said Melissa. “I’ll have someone keep tabs on her.”

  “Thanks Melissa, I owe you one.”

  “No sweat. I’ll call in the favor someday.”

  Melissa got back into the Honda and drove off, the neon green car sliding along the road like a slot car, cornering evenly and weaving in and out of traffic.

  Nikki shook her head, and patted the Impala affectionately. Walking back toward their spot on the beach, Nikki scanned the sand, looking for Z’ev. She was nearly to the blanket when she spotted him talking to a middle-aged guy in a straw hat, who was almost certainly not the ice cream vendor. Nikki could tell by the lack of an ice cream cart.

  As she watched, Straw Hat handed a slip
of paper to Z’ev, who scrutinized it and then put it away in his pocket. They shook hands and Straw Hat moved away at an easy amble, heading in Nikki’s general direction. Nikki frowned. Z’ev was working. She knew what working looked like and Z’ev was doing it. He was working on their only weekend together this month! The CIA weren’t even supposed to work inside the country.

  Nikki flopped down on the blanket, fuming. She kicked off her flip-flops and placed her bag in the original indent it had left in the sand before her trip to the car. Stripping off her wrap, she shoved it back into the bag, only then noticing that Z’ev’s gun wasn’t inside. If there was any doubt before, there wasn’t now. No one took a gun to get ice cream. He must have gotten it when he reached in for his wallet. The fact that she hadn’t noticed irritated Nikki even further. And now he was going to come back and wonder why she was mad and then he would know that she knew and then he would wonder how she knew when she was supposed to be being lazy on the blanket.

  Nikki took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Maybe there was another explanation. She had to get over this in a hurry. He always knew when she was mad. She just wasn’t very good at acting. Maybe he had taken the gun out of habit. Nikki knew that lately she felt a little defenseless when she went out without some weaponry, and he had been in the business a lot longer than she had. Maybe that was it. And maybe Straw Hat had been just some guy, handing Z’ev a business card. It could happen. Nikki took another deep breath and settled herself in a relaxed position on the blanket. She was concentrating so hard on being calm that she didn’t realize Z’ev was back until he dripped ice cream on her stomach.

  Nikki sat up with a small gasp as the cold ice cream made contact with her skin.

  “Oh, not funny, mister,” said Nikki reaching for her towel.

  “I didn’t do it on purpose,” protested Z’ev, but laughing while he did so.

  “Sure, you didn’t,” said Nikki shooting him an angry look over the top of her sunglasses.

  “It was an accident, I swear,” said Z’ev sitting down and handing her a vanilla cone with sprinkles and a cherry. He was working on something with chocolate and covered in whip cream. Nikki bit back an angry retort and accepted the ice cream cone.

  “What do you want to do about dinner?” asked Nikki when the soothing balm of ice cream had been applied to her tongue.

  “It’s not even two yet and you’re worried about dinner?”

  “I like to plan ahead.”

  “I don’t know. What do you want to do about dinner?”

  “There’s this cute little Indian place over on West Sixth I’ve been wanting to try.”

  “West Sixth, where’s that at?”

  “LA proper, over by MacArthur Park.”

  “Oh. Sure, sounds good.”

  Nikki congratulated herself on the ease of her maneuvering and finished off her ice cream, saving the cherry for last.

  July V

  Dinner

  Nikki checked her watch. She had thirty minutes before she had to meet Z’ev. She’d lucked out when he’d gone off to meet an old friend for “drinks.” Nikki had nodded and pretended she believed him. Z’ev did not have old friends. Or if he did, they certainly didn’t have his phone number or know where he lived. He was totally, totally working. Nikki knew it shouldn’t bother her as much as it did. After all, she was working. Why shouldn’t he? But it grated. It grated on her that she was lying. It grated on her that he was lying. She wondered how long they could keep this up. She loved him, she thought he loved her, but really… how long until their relationship became an impediment to their jobs?

  Nikki peeked through her binoculars. She was parked across the street from the park on Alvarado. MacArthur Park was split in two by Wilshire Boulevard and the southern half of the park was mostly taken up by a small lake, while the northern portion had play areas, a band stand, and a soccer field. The Red Candy sculpture protruded from the tree line like a pink UFO. Installed in 1987, the original bright red had faded in the sun over the years. The park had a history of gang violence, but stepped up police patrols in recent years had put a damper on the violence and currently the park was filled with families, roller skaters and dog walkers for L.A.’s lazier dog owners. The closest group to the sculpture was a child’s birthday. One child, who appeared to be about six, whacked away at a piñata that was almost the same size as the little girl was and shaped like Snow White. The family cheered her on, their claps punctuated by the sound of the boombox pumping out Ariana Grande’s latest single.

  Nikki got out of the car and began her approach. The restaurant Z’ev had picked for dinner was only a few blocks away. With any luck she could scoop up Donny, or at least make sure he was all right, and be having appetizers with Z’ev in thirty minutes.

  She walked past the drinks table of the birthday party and scooped up a six pack of soda—just in case, then spotted Donny’s group through the trees. They were loud and boisterous. Apex predators of the human world didn’t need to wear camouflage, in fact it paid to advertise. They quieted down as they approached the candy sculpture. Another group was already waiting for them. Nikki couldn’t say for sure, but from the tattoos she suspected they were Crazy Town Locos. She slipped a little closer, comforted by the heavy weight of the Sig Sauer on her hip.

  The gangs were squaring off when she saw Z’ev approaching from the opposite direction. Nikki wanted to react to that, but Donny was already moving. He approached the front man of the Crazy Town Locos, a tough looking guy with a buzz cut, a neck tattoo, and a black duffle bag. Donny carried a matching bag.

  Z’ev caught sight of her and glared. He made go away gestures and Nikki shook her head. He made more emphatic gestures and Nikki shook her head again. The silent argument might have kept going, but they both saw the surreptitious movement at the back of the pack of Crazy Town Locos. Guns were coming out. Instinctively Nikki reached for her gun, then realized Z’ev was going to see whatever she did. Time for the back-up plan.

  Nikki ran out into the circle of men just as the first gun man stepped forward. Breaking off one of the soda cans, she hurled it through the air, where it impacted against his forehead in a spray of dark brown soda. She continued running as the man talking to Donny reached toward his waistband. Swinging the remaining five cans on their plastic tether she smashed them into his face. The gang member crumpled to the ground, as they connected with his temple before bouncing off in all directions.

  “Move your ass, Donny!” she yelled, continuing across the clearing toward Z’ev. Donny snatched up the other man’s duffle bag and ran after her.

  Z’ev had his gun out, covering their exit. He pointed emphatically toward the right and Nikki did as directed; taking an erratic course through the underbrush, looping back toward the play area.

  “Gun! Gun! Gun!” she screamed, running at the child’s birthday party. There were screams as people took up her refrain. Parents snatched up children and began to run from the park. There was a blare of sirens from behind them on Wilshire, but Nikki kept running. Scooping up the Snow White piñata, she turned to Z’ev who was already taking off his jacket and wrapping it around the piñata. Nikki huddled closer to him as they ran; blending in among the other parents hauling children away from the park. Once they were across the street and it seemed clear that no one was following them, Nikki dropped the piñata in the nearest trashcan.

  “I should really –” Donny began looking as if he would go a different way. Z’ev grabbed him by the elbow and forced him to keep walking in the direction they were going. Nikki did the same with the other arm.

  “Nikki, I cannot believe you did that,” Z’ev snapped.

  “I know, right?” said Donny. “You nailed that guy smack in the forehead! Last time I saw you, you could not hit the broad side of a barn. How’d you do that?”

  “I joined the company softball team,” said Nikki, looking around nervously as they stopped at a crosswalk.

  “That was awe—” He glanced at Z’ev. “T
otally irresponsible.”

  “Shut. Up. Nikki, that was dangerous and stupid. You should not have been there. And then you should have left when I told you to.”

  “Oh, come on. No one even shot at us. They were too stunned to figure out what was happening.”

  Donny snorted. “Jackson and I used to call it the I Love Lucy effect.”

  “Shut up, Donny,” said Nikki.

  “I had it under control, Nikki,” growled Z’ev.

  “Well, how was I supposed to know?” Nikki snapped back, “You didn’t tell me.”

  Donny’s head bounced back and forth between them like a ping-pong ball.

  “It was a DEA investigation—I couldn’t tell you. I contacted a friend of mine. He was doing me a favor and no one was supposed to know.”

  “Well, Donny is my friend. I wasn’t going to leave him out there with his closest back-up in Tacoma, Washington.”

  “That isn’t your responsibility. And again, I had it under control. I talked to my friend, Joe. Joe knew about Donny. It would have been fine.” Z’ev spoke through clenched teeth.

  “And again, you could have told me!”

  “I didn’t think Joe would want it blabbed all over LA.”

  “Suddenly I’m all of LA? Oh, thanks. Nice to know I have your trust.”

  “I didn’t want you involved!” shouted Z’ev, as they stopped in front of a restaurant.

  “He’s my friend!” Nikki shouted, yanking Donny closer to her.

  “He’s dangerous!” Z’ev yelled back and yanked Donny toward him.

  Down the street more police cars arrived and there was the sound of distant gunfire; all three ducked slightly.

  “Guys, can you keep it together for the kid here, please?” asked Donny.

  A police car whizzed by and, taking their cue, Nikki, Donny, and Z’ev stepped into the restaurant.

  “Three for dinner?” asked the host.

  “Yes, please,” said Donny, shaking himself free.

  “We can’t stay for dinner,” said Z’ev.

  “Dude, I’ve had nothing but tacos for the last week,” said Donny. “Don’t be a Mexi-can’t; be a Mexi-can.”