Blonde Joke Chapter Twenty-One by Jeffrey M. Mahr   Why do blondes smile during lightning storms? They think their pictures are being taken.

Franklin Brodsky was furious. First, he was furious at his security staff. The incompetent fools had let Dr. Isseksen escape. Second, he was furious at Tommi. She had obviously gone against him and assisted Isseksen in her escape. Third, he was most furious at himself for allowing blood to win over intellect. That it was Isseksen blood rather than Brodsky blood just made it worse.

The good news was that he had anticipated the possibility of an escape, albeit not with help from his own family, and had taken care to insulate himself from the most serious allegations. If any one asked, as far as he was concerned, Dr. Isseksen was a willing guest of his son and he had never once publicly visited her to discover that she was bound and held against her will. To the best of his knowledge, no one but he knew of the hidden door between his suite of rooms and the room in which Isseksen had been held.

After taking care of the errant guards, personally assuring that the room would not hold evidence of an embarrassing nature, and alerting his legal staff to minimize any risks to his privacy, he decided it was time to take a nap. He hadn’t been feeling well anyway. Afterwards he would review his will and make the necessary changes to remove his traitorous child from the inheritance she had obviously scorned. Tomorrow he would stop in at the office and begin the process of removing her from involvement in any aspect of Brodsky Holdings and the companies over which it held sway. His last coherent thought before sleep was to wonder if it would be easier to just undo the paperwork that confirmed that Tommi Brodsky had been Thomas Brodsky.

One blonde paced; while her twin sat in a chair, head nodding, half asleep. They were in one of the small, sterile interrogation rooms of the FBI branch office. A door slammed in another part of the building and the head jerked up. With a sleep blurred voice, she croaked, “Uh, Dick? I mean Rikki…”

“Hush! And call me Tommi, remember?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, right, and I have to be Katrina. Anyway, how long do you think they’ll be holding us?”

“I don’t know, why?”

“Well, I need to go to the bathroom.”

“So, go.”

“I don’t want to do it here. I want to go to the bathroom somewhere private. You know, at home.”

“Why would you care? Oh, okay. Let’s go see how long we’re needed.”

Both headed toward the door. “Katrina” stared at it a moment, as if it were a snake about to spring, and then grabbed it. Both gave an audible sigh of relief when it turned and opened. They poked their heads out and found Agent Serdland sitting, back to them at a desk, with a phone glued to his ear. He kept nodding and saying, “Yes, sir,” but he didn’t sound happy.

They waited until he put the phone down and “Katrina” spoke. “Uh, Agent, uh, Serdland?”

“WHAT!” It was both growl and shout. Then he turned, saw who was speaking to him and with obvious effort, put on his game face. “Oh, sorry. What can I do for you ladies?”

“Uh, we were wondering if you were done with us yet.”

“Yeah, we’re done. Hold on and I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Oh, good. Thank you, Agent.”

The car ride was uncomfortable for its silence. Agent Serdland was obviously not happy and the two women didn’t seem motivated to fill the gap with the usual chatter. Finally, as they arrived back at the entrance to Maggie’s apartment, “Tommi” asked, “Uh, Agent? You don’t seem very happy. Is there a problem we should know about?”

“Yeah, I’ve been wondering how to bring it up. Basically, we have a case against the two goons who kidnapped you. They’ll be going away for a long time since they admit to everything–everything that is except implicating your father.”

“Oh.” Both women were clearly unhappy with that news.

“Of course, if you were able to do that, we could provide you with witness protection.”

“Oh.”

“Okay, look,” Serdland said, hesitantly. “We don’t really expect you to implicate your father and we don’t expect Dr. Isseksen to have the kind of insider information to do that, but I do have to ask you one question.”

There was a long silence as Agent Serdland examined the two women. They began to squirm uncomfortably and then Sydni finally broke the silence and asked, “What, Agent? What’s the question?”

“Who are you two, really? You look exactly like Dr. Katrina Isseksen and Tommi Brodsky, but I’ve met them both and you are not them.”

It was like a wake, only less jovial. Regardless of the eight hundred pound gorilla laying in the casket in the center of the room in a wake, at least a few people were trying to lighten the mood, talking about happier times and places. Here, in the living room of Maggie’s apartment, Rikki, Sydni and Agent Serdland just sat morosely waiting for the next hour and a half. Then, finally, Maggie, Karen and Barbie came strolling in. Their laughing conversation instantly ended and Karen actually stifled a scream when they saw the three people waiting in the living room.

Agent Serdland flashed his photo ID and asked the others to sit and join him. Then, when everyone was seated, and the group’s mood had again dropped into a sea of silent dread, he said, “Thank you for your attention. I need to know where Katrina Isseksen and Tommi Brodsky are and I have reason to believe that one or more of you have the information I need.

Maggie surreptitiously glanced at Rikki and Sydni, but not so carefully that he did not catch it.

“Now, before one of you perjures herself by trying to suggest that these two ladies,” he gestured casually at Rikki and Sydni, “are the two individuals in question, please understand that I know that they are not.

“At least you, Mrs. Isseksen,” he glared at Maggie, “must also be aware of the identities of these two and therefore know who they are not. Would you care to tell me where Dr. Isseksen and Ms. Brodsky can be found?”

Karen and Barbie looked down, unable to make eye contact with the Agent, telling him that they too were aware that it was Rikki and Sydni, not Katrina and Tommi, sitting across from them.

“At the moment, Dr. Isseksen and Ms. Brodsky are wanted for questioning in regard to a possible kidnapping,” he said in his best authoritative, you must talk to me voice. Then, he waited silently for someone to break. He had carefully worded his statement to make it sound like they were possibly the perpetrators rather than the victims to increase the tension and to see if that would cause someone to speak, if only to defend their friends and relatives. Chins quivered, but no one spoke.

“Maybe you don’t understand,” Agent Serdland spoke quietly and seemingly caringly now as he continued, “They may have been kidnapped. We need to find them to make certain that they are not in any distress.”

You could feel the tension pouring out of the room. Karen and Barbie even smiled for a moment. Agent Serdland’s psychology training told him that this was the key moment. If anyone was going to slip and say anything, it was now as relief flooded through them and control was weakened. It had worked many times in the past. The next words spoken would be telling, so he sat there saying absolutely nothing.

The guard at the gate when Kat and Tommi drove up to the gate was new. Tommi had never seen him before. He was yawning as he sauntered up to their car despite the chill in the morning air, leading Tommi to suspect he was on his second or third shift.

“This may take a while. This is a new guard. He’ll probably want to follow protocol to the letter, especially since Daddy Dearest has probably fired half the security staff and put the fear of Brodsky into the new guards as well as the ones left.”

“The fear of Brodsky?”

“Trust me; it’s much worse than just the fear of god.”

Further conversation was interrupted as the guard tapped, none to gently, on the driver’s side window with a baton. “Private drive. Back out and leave, now.”

“We’re expected.”

“No, you’re not. Now leave.”

“Call Renfrew and have him check on the Master of the house.”

“There’s no Renfrew here. Now beat it!” The guard tapped on the side door, leaving a dent.

Tommi glanced at Kat rhetorically asking, “You don’t think he got rid of Renfrew? He’s been with the old man longer than me. Nah. He couldn’t have.”

Turning back to the guard, Tommi spoke emphatically. “Get out your cell phone, push the pager button. Ask for Renfrew and tell him to check on Franklin Brodsky. Trust me, and I’m not just saying it for effect, your job could depend on it.”

“Look lady, I’ve been polite. Now haul that pile of junk out of this driveway right now or things are gonna get ugly.”

“Fine. I’ll call Renfrew. I should have done it in the first place.”

“Hello? Renfrew? This is Tommi. I’m at the front gate. Listen. I know Dad’s told you to have nothing to do with me, but it’s important that you check on him. He’s going to be in a coma. Trust me. Check. I’ll stay on the line. You know every hospital in the area has clear instructions. You know he hates hospitals after what happened to Mom. He could be taken to a hospital despite…look. Just check first. Yes, I’ll stay on the line. Oh, but first, please call the front gate and tell the Neanderthal here to back off. Okay. Thanks.

“Hey, tall dark and stupid! Do you hear ringing? It’s your boss calling. ” Tommi called out the window just as the guard’s cell phone started ringing. She couldn’t resist adding, “Remember what I said about how your job might depend on your behavior here?

Kat suddenly stifled a giggle. When Tommi glanced at her inquisitively, the giggles turned into full blown guffaws. By the time she could control herself, the guard was talking on his cell phone. He didn’t look happy.

“What’s so funny?”

“That song he uses as a ring tone.”

“Yeah? So?”

“It’s from the Dixie Chicks.”

“Again, so?”

“It’s called, “Goodbye Earl. It’s about two women who plot and kill a stupid, abusive man.”