Remote Consequences (15 page)

While the cloud of spray settled, I decided to check out the menu of services tacked on the wall above the register. I'd be able to get a pedicure, but it was by appointment only. Darn. I could really use a new polish about right now. I hadn't exactly been taking care of my feet of late.

"What can I do for you?" The soft voice startled me. I hadn't heard her approach over the hair-dryer noise. I caught sight of the little old lady as she waddled out the door, her head looking to weigh more than her entire body, but I knew that her hair would hold in place until she returned next week. Not one single strand was moving on that baby.

"Uh, yes. I was hoping to get a pedicure, but I see that I should have planned ahead." I pointed to the sign.

"Ah, yeah. Gina does those and she only works on weekends. Sorry about that. Is there anything hair related I could help you with? I'm free for the next hour."

I started to shake my head, and then I thought about my plan to infiltrate O'Hannigan's tonight. If I was going to go incognito, I needed to hide my extremely noticeable red locks.

"Is there any way I can get a temporary look?"

She eyed me cautiously and then ran her fingers through my hair. "How temporary are we talking about?"

There is not pain greater than the pain of rejection. –Irish Proverb

One and a half hours later I stared at myself in the mirror and a dark brunette with cat-green eyes and ruby-red lips stared back at me. Who was this creature?

My venture into the salon had turned into more than I could have ever hoped for. Not only had I managed to snag a drastic new temporary hair color that was sure to help me blend in during Operation Hussy Takedown, but I'd also made a new friend. And both of those were at the top of my cool list.

Sundae Giddings was my new hairdresser, and she was a fast-talking hair whiz who knew how to relax and rejuvenate me with a few select hair products and a skilled hand at makeup application. I, literally, looked like a new woman.

Sundae had listened as I'd run down my current predicament, and she'd been more than willing to assist me in my pursuit of crime-solving information. But she'd made me promise that I'd come back soon and fill her in on the updated details. I was looking forward to chatting with her again already.

Now, as I stood in front of the full-length mirror in Aunt Patty's bedroom, I modeled several different outfits. I didn't have much to choose from, as I'd only packed a few things. I still had boxes of my stuff in storage, as I'd had to move out of my apartment and sublet it when I'd found out that I'd be home a while. As I didn't have time to make a run to Storage Binz of Deatsville tonight, I had it narrowed down to a pair of red jeans and a black cowl neck blouse or my blue maxi dress.

I tried on both and decided to go with the dress. I knew the jeans were more like what red-haired Mandy would wear. Besides, this outfit made my dark hair look all the more dramatic, and that was exactly how I was feeling right now.

Dramatic.

It was almost as if I was escaping my life to take part in someone else's for a bit. And it was a nice feeling.

Paget was all set up with Ms. Lanier for the night, and I was waiting on Colin's arrival. I'd decided to take him with me on my O'Hannigan's excursion. I figured that parking big old Stella out there in the parking lot wouldn't be exactly flying under the radar. Plus, he seemed like the perfect accessory to the new me, and it never hurt to have backup.

Gosh, I was starting to sound like a cop.

I moved to the bathroom to double-check my makeup and realized that I was almost giddy with the thought of tonight's escapade. I wasn't sure what if anything we'd discover by watching an interaction between Allyson and Trask, but it was something to do.

A knock on the kitchen door sent my pulse into overdrive, and I dabbed on a little of my fave perfume before I made my way to greet my spy.

*  *  *

I sipped my second Cosmopolitan and continued to watch the room around us.

"Are you sure you don't want something to drink?" I felt a little awkward being the only one partaking of a cocktail—or two. But Colin was all business. A little more business than I would have liked in my current "new me" frame of mind.

He eyed me briefly before returning his watchful gaze to the bar's entrance. "No. I don't drink when I'm working."

"Are you really working, though? I mean, what exactly do you do for a living?" Might as well get it all out in the open. I hadn't been able to find out a single thing on him myself. And it was time for him to fess up some details.

"It is not something I'm really allowed to talk about."

"Colin…" I reached out and slipped my hand in his as it rested on the tabletop. He focused on me at the physical contact. "You have to give me something. Are you really a spy?"

The corner of his lip curled up slightly in what one might consider the start of a really great smile.

"We don't really call it that, but I can confirm that I work for the government in a certain covert operative capacity."

Aha! I knew it. He was a spy.

I was on a roll, so I kept pushing. "Okay so you can't tell me much about your job. I get that. But why isn't there any record of you living here? Why don't I know you or know
of
you at least?"

He let go of my hand and I suddenly felt lonely. He leaned back against the booth and crossed his arms. "Mandy, I don't really want to talk about this right now. You asked me to come and see if we could figure out the connection between Trask and Allyson Harlow. We've been here for over an hour and I haven't seen either one of them here."

"Yet," I said, taking another gulp of my cranberry and vodka goodness.

"What?" He zoned in on my lips as I pushed my cocktail cherry between my lips and then slipped it into my mouth.

"I said…we haven't seen them yet. I didn't exactly overhear what time they were meeting here, just that they were going to meet here. We could be here a while. Why not have some fun and learn something more about one another?" I offered a seductive smile. Or what I thought would pass for one.

"Mandy. I want to stay focused on figuring out who killed my father and who is behind all these games with moving his body around. I don't really want to chat about my childhood right now."

I shrugged. You couldn't make a man talk if he didn't want to. I knew this to be true—no surprise there.

"Okay, okay. I give up. For now. But what about this mysterious note from my windshield? What's that about?"

When he didn't answer, I looked up from my now-empty glass to see that his eyes were focused on the front door. I followed his gaze and saw Trask making his way to the bar—alone.

He took a stool and motioned for the bartender, who brought him a beer from the tap.

We stayed silent for a moment, just watching him gulp down the beer. He looked around the room and his eyes roamed my way. He focused in on me a moment, and I just knew I'd been made.

I ducked down, hiding my head under the table.

"Uh, Mandy. What are you doing?"

I shifted my head to look up into Colin's eyes. I basically had my head in his lap.

Oh, boy.

"Sorry." I sat back up. "Do you think he saw me?"

"No, but try to be a little less conspicuous. He is a cop and more likely to notice women who duck down under the table when he casts a glance in their direction." He grinned at me.

 "Right. You know, this spy business is not as easy as you make it look. And now that I mention it—the one time I've worn a dress in weeks and you had to pick me up on a motorcycle? Come on."

He laughed. I felt warm all over.

"Tell me again what made you decide to change your hair color?"

"Ah, I don't know why I went through with it. But it is just temporary. Sundae said it would wash out in a few weeks." I gulped a little more drink. "Do you like it?"

"No."

Well, so much for my warm and fuzzy feeling.

"I'm more of a whisky fellow. Don't go in for the fruity drinks too often."

A little glee sprouted up. He was talking about my drink—not my hair.

"Now your hair, on the other hand…I don't think there is any possible way you could ever look bad."

Looked like my disguise was working in more ways than one.

"Wonder where the hussy is?" My voice slurred just a little on the word "hussy," making it sound like "hushy." It made me laugh.

Colin cut his eyes to me and then back to Officer Chubby. "Mandy, maybe you should switch to water for now."

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm just bored. I thought this was going to be more exciting. Isn't this super-secret-agent stuff more exciting than this usually?"

"Actually, no. It is a lot of waiting and watching."

"Well, this is not the night I had in mind. I mean, I want to see some action."

"Check this out," he said. And I broke out of my rant about boredom to see Myrna Mills stroll into the bar. She stopped just inside the entrance and seemed to be searching for something or someone.

"Wonder what she's doing here?" I asked the obvious question in an exaggerated whisper. As if anyone could hear me over the blaring music.

Mrs. Mills' eyes landed on someone at the bar, and she made her way through the crowd. She tapped Officer Trask on the shoulder.

"He does work for the mayor. Maybe they need him for some off-duty security business."

"Bored now." If the mayor's wife was here to let Trask know that he was needed for some mayoral business, then he wouldn't be here when Allyson showed up, and we wouldn't be able to listen in on their conversation.

Mrs. Mills was speaking quickly, and Trask was listening and trying to respond but not getting a word in edgewise. We couldn't hear the conversation, but it was obvious after a few beats that it was rather heated.

"I'm going to try to get a little closer and see what this is about." Colin ducked out of the booth and was gone before I could respond.

The waiter stopped by with a refill and I was momentarily distracted. I took another delicious sip of my yummy beverage and then refocused on the discussion between Mrs. Mills and Officer Trask. Just in time to see her slap him across the face.

Whoa.

*  *  *

I wasn't feeling too well. After Mrs. Mills had caused her little public scene and then stormed out of O'Hannigan's, I'd made my way to the ladies' room. I sat down on the floor and pressed my face against the cold tile wall.

Something was happening to me. The room swam, my face felt hot and I felt…weird. I didn't know how else to describe it. At first I thought it was just a little too much vodka, but my body was rapidly becoming numb. It wasn't a normal reaction to a couple of cocktails for me, and I began to try to tick off the symptoms in my mind.

Had someone slipped something in my drink? That last drink. Come to think of it. I hadn't ordered it. Had I?

If I could just close my eyes for just a moment. I needed to take a few deep breaths.

My lungs were burning. My stomach churning. Then, darkness.

A dishonest woman can't be kept in and an honest woman won't. –Irish Proverb

"Mandy…" His voice was nice. It had a certain raspy quality to it. I wished he'd been more impressed with my makeover.

"Mandy…"

Oh yeah, what was I doing again? Why was my head so heavy? Gosh, I wondered how much my head weighed. An average human head constitutes about eight percent of a human's body weight. If you cut off the head of a cadaver, it weighed in at about five kilograms, or eleven pounds. That seemed like a lot, didn't it?

"Mandy, if you can hear me…I've got you. I'm taking you to the hospital. Hang in there."

The hospital. Yes, that was good. I felt like crap. What if I didn't make it? Who would take care of Paget now?

That last thought made me choke. I started coughing, and then tears welled up in my eyes. I closed them and felt the tears make a trail down my cheek and roll into my ear. That tickled. I heard a muffled voice coming from nearby, but couldn't make out the words.

I pressed my eyes closed and took a deep breath.
Slow your heart. Slow your heart.

*  *  *

Bright white light hurt my eyelids.

"What happened here?" Voices chattered nearby.

"Can I get something for nausea?" Someone was speaking, and she sounded authoritative. "Twenty-five milligrams of promethazine, please."

Oh yeah, that was a good choice, but it might make me sleepy. I didn't want to be sleepy. I wanted to wake up.

"Make it hydroxyzine instead," I croaked out.
I
was the one barking orders. Go figure.

"She's waking up, Dr. Cavello," another voice responded.

My body still felt sluggish. I opened my eyes a crack and saw tubes running into my left arm. A standard IV drip and a banana bag. They were trying to regulate my body chemistry. Magnesium sulfate.

"Did you push the Romazicon?" Dr. C's voice sounded nearby.

"Yes, sir. She seems to be waking up now."

"Hello, Panda. How are we feeling?"

I opened my eyes a little more. They felt crusty.

Dr. C. peered down at me with concern. His eyes looked tired, and the dark circles beneath them were almost as dark as…eye shadow. Why would he be wearing eye shadow? I must be on narcotics.

"I'm sorry." The words came out of my mouth, although I wasn't quite sure what I meant by them.

"Shhh…no need for that. Do you know what happened? Who brought you here?"

"I have no idea." My brain seemed to be clear on all the medical ramifications of what was happening to me, but I had no idea how it had happened or what I'd been doing when it happened. "Why can't I remember?"

"It'll come back to you, Panda. Anterograde amnesia is common with Rohypnol ingestion."

I tried to sit up but he pushed me back down. "Easy now."