Gretchen and Patty attend the New Years Eve Dance where Patty has a disturbing realization. Cardoza's hit team strikes. Lipscomb begins Phase Two of his plan. Themes and Elements listed apply to entire story, Rating to this submission. Thanks to Marina Kelly and Robyn Hoode for editorial assistance.

CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE

“I’m sorry about all that. I didn’t know he planned on doing all that … stuff.”

My father, Mister Restraint.

Patty had to work real hard to get her mom to agree to come to my house to help us get ready for the dance. Actually, to help me. Patty doesn’t need any help but I didn’t want to ask her to help me too. At first, Ms. Conner said she’d be glad to help then my father said I couldn’t go over there to get ready. He wouldn’t say why. I knew this was going to be trouble but Patty said she’d handle it. It took her awhile and she wouldn’t tell me what she said … or had to promise … but her mom finally agreed.

They brought all their stuff to my house at 5:30 in the afternoon and went straight to my room. We had to get to the dance early because Ms. Conner was a volunteer and they all had to be there at least two hours before the dance started.

My hair and makeup didn’t take nearly as long as the last time because Ms. Conner already knew what she wanted to do. Patty said she made her dress because she couldn’t find anything in her size that didn’t make her look like a pre-teen. It was silver, soft, sparkly, hugged her curves down to her knees and had a slit just short of her hip.

Definitely not a pre-teen. As nice as my dress was, I felt a little jealous.

We packed everything up and headed downstairs to find Father waiting for us … with two fully equipped professional photographers.

“Ladies! Ladies! Come down!” he shouted, smiling broadly.

“Father, what is this?”

“How could I let my beautiful daughter and her lovely friend go to her first dance and not document it for posterity?”

We reach the bottom of the stairs and I walk over to him while Patty and her mom wait at the foot of the stairs.

“Father, please … don’t embarrass me.”

“Embarrass? Parents take pictures of their children all the time.”

I pull him aside, moving us away from everybody. “You didn’t,” I whisper. “You’ve never taken pictures of me before.”

“Actually, I did … before you’re mother died. I used to take quite a few pictures.”

“Why’d you stop?”

“I … I don’t know. Things changed. It didn’t seem to be as … important.”

“So, why not take them yourself now?”

“I gave away all my old equipment, besides, everything is digital today, all about computers and pixels. If you want the job done right, you hire an expert. These two come highly recommended.”

“By who?”

“Enrique.”

Of course. I look over at Patty and her mother. Ms. Conner is clearly upset. Patty is holding her hand as she glances at her watch. That’s it! Time!

“Father, we can’t stay for pictures. Ms. Conner needs to leave for the dance now. She’s working and has to be there early. There’s no time.”

Father also looks over at the Conners, then steps towards them.

“Are you certain? It won’t take long, I promise. It’s just that Gretchen is so lovely tonight, so much like her mother. I just wanted something to preserve this moment.”

Patty takes her mother’s arm and turns it to see her watch. They both check the time and then look at each other’s face for a few seconds, like they’re communicating telepathically. Finally, Ms. Conner closes her eyes and sighs.

“I suppose we can spare a few minutes, but only a few.”

So that’s how I find myself apologizing while we speed towards the YWCA, ten minutes late.

“I’m really sorry Ms. Conner. He never said anything to me about pictures. It was good of you to pose with us. I know you’re not fond of my father.”

“Gretchen … you have no idea … it’s not your fault, sweetie. I know you would have said something if you had known.”

“Besides,” added Patty, “they should be some good shots. I’d like copies. Maybe make a poster for my bedroom.”

“Like hell you will,” Ms. Conner snorted.

“Why not, Mom? We don’t have any real nice pictures of us, not recent ones anyway. You look good and so do I. It seemed that they took almost as many pictures of us as they did of Gretch and her dad.”

“They didn’t take that many of me but they did take quite a few of both you and Gretchen.”

“Got a case of the Green Eyed Monster there, Mom?”

Ms. Conner laughed. “In your dreams, Patricia Taylor Conner. Just a matter of quality over quantity.”

They kept riding each other all the way to the dance.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

The photographers have provided me with several pictures of both Conner and Gretchen. Escaban can forward them to his men’s phone so that they can clearly identify the target. This is not the time for mistakes. Not only must the police not discover who killed Conner, but Hobbes must also never know the truth, at least until I can replace him. I pick up my radio.

“Tony Escaban, report.”

It took almost a minute for him to respond. “Yes, Mr. Cardoza.”

“You took too long to answer. Report to my office.”

“Yes, Sir.”

When he arrived, Escaban was panting. Good. This is serious business. Sliding my cell phone off my desk into my hand, I dial his number.

“I’m forwarding several photos for you to forward to your people at the dance. They’re of both Conner and Gretchen Hobbes.”

“I’ve already done that, Mr. Cardoza.”

“Yes, but these show what they look like tonight. They will be easier to spot.”

His phone beeps several times. “Yes, sir. Anything else?”

“Your people understand their job?”

“Yes, sir. Take Conner from the dance, kill her using knives, sexual assault is optional, make sure the body is bloody and found and that they aren’t caught. Ms. Hobbes is to be left alone and not harmed in any way. I told them that if the appropriate opportunity didn’t present itself, they are not to take any unnecessary chances. A little extra damage is acceptable, but, again, under no circumstances are they to be caught.”

“Excellent. You are certain they can do it?”

“It isn’t too difficult. Three men, one girl.”

“You would think so … but there is something about Conner … she is surprisingly resilient.”

“That’s why there’s three of them.”

“Let’s hope that’s enough.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Luckily, the volunteers were just starting their meeting when we all walked into the gym. Mom hurried over to where the others were standing while Gretchen and I took a stroll around to check things out. I had expected to run into the guys doing set up but it looked like everything was already done. It was all a lot nicer than the other dance. More tables and chairs. Balloons in nets along the ceiling. Bunting and streamers along the walls. A bunch of colored lights and a disco ball suspended from the scoreboard at mid-court. Certainly more elaborate than dances when I was in high school. The food area also was bigger. Gretchen was impressed.

“This looks nice! I thought you said your friends would be here.”

“I assumed they would. They must have done all this earlier today or yesterday. You’re right, it’s nice. Wonder what’s on the menu.”

We wander over to the food tables, our heels loudly clicking on the floor until we reach the tarps. The banquet tables are lined up in one long row, covered in white tablecloths with a red skirt hanging along the front all the way to the floor. There’s several food warmers with lids but they’re only holding hot water right now. There’s nothing out to snack on.

“We could go back to the kitchen, see if we could find something?” I suggest.

“Nah, I’m fine. Don’t want to get in anybody’s way. Raul doesn’t like it when someone interrupts him while he’s working.”

“Really? I never noticed that when I’m there.”

“That’s because he likes you, dummy. You’re special. Everyone treats you differently. Father, the teachers at school, Sister Carmela … everybody. You’re Patricia Conner, the Golden Girl.”

“Shut UP! I’m not special … I just play the angles, that’s all.”

“Don’t be modest. They all recognize that you’re different. You see things others miss. You do things others can’t. You solve problems that others ignore. Everywhere you go, things change.”

“For the better?”

“I think so, though Enrique may disagree. He’s the one person who doesn’t like you.”

“The ONE person? I can think of lots! Caitlin McBride and her group. Aelia Ridgeway and the entire St. Agnes basketball team, plus their fans. There’s quite a few people not exactly fond of me.”

“Well, the ones who matter are fond of you. Me for instance.”

“I appreciate that but you’re still gonna have to meet some guys tonight.”

“But WHHYYYYYY?”

“‘Cause you promised.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Sitting in a “borrowed” car outside the Y, I’m glad all three of us have checked out the place over the last two days. I want to make sure we all know the layout. Teak couldn’t understand why it was necessary.

“Three of us, one of her … it’s too easy, man,” he rumbled.

“‘Kay, it’s too easy, but gettin’ her out of there without us gettin’ caught … that won’t be easy. What if she struggles? What if she screams? We get seen, we get caught, we get killed. I got big plans for my future and they don’t include fucking this up.”

Julio shook his head. “Still don’t see why she needs to die.”

Crap! Not again! “We been through that, Julio. Ain’t any of our bizness. We’re just soldiers looking to move up. You wanna’ move up, man?”

“Yeah … course I do.”

“Me too, so this is what we gotta do. This is our chance to stand out, to be recognized, get some respect.”

“She’s a girl. Don’t get no respect doin’ girls.”

“She’s a JOB! I don’t care what anybody else thinks, I only care what Cardoza thinks!”

Teak leans forward between the two front seats of the car. “Calm down, Billy B, we know. We ain’t happy but we know. Question is, ‘xactly how we gonna do it?”

“I’ll go in once the crowd shows up, find her and keep an eye on her. If she leaves anytime, I’ll call ya and we go get her.”

“What if she don’t leave?” asks Julio.

“Then we follow her home, grab her off the street.”

“What if she got someone wit her?”

“Then we take care of them and then grab her.”

“What if she’s got a lot of people wit her?”

“Then we don’t do nothin’, fool.”

“What if we can’t keep her quiet?”

I pat my hip pocket. “Got a little smack here. It’ll take the edge off, but three dudes with knives ought to be more than enough to keep her in line, like ‘Baby, keep your mouth shut or you’ll lose an eye, quick’. Know what I mean?”

Teak sat back. “Yeah, that’d keep me quiet, though the smack’d be nice. Where we doing it after we got her?”

“Raphael’s got a place for us, down by the docks, been abandoned for a couple of years. We can wash the mess straight into the water.”

“Sweet.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Gretchen and I were sitting at the team’s table when people returned to the gym. Mom was with them … and so was Coach Tobey. Both of them walked quickly towards us.

“Hey! Deadeye! How you doing?” he shouted.

I got up out of my chair, striding towards him as he threw his arms open, dropping down to my level. We hugged each other briefly. I felt something hard and wide pressing into my stomach. Stepping back as we release each other, I look down towards his waist.

“I’m fine Coach … what the heck is that?”

“This? It’s my championship belt.”

“Belt? It looks like a hubcap.”

“Don’t dis the belt. You’re just jealous.”

“It doesn’t go with my outfit. Heck, it doesn’t go with any outfit.”

“What you talking about? This is stylish as hell … ‘scuse my French, ladies.”

“That wasn’t French,” said Gretchen.

“I know, I’ll explain later. Coach Tobey, this is my friend, Gretchen.”

“Well, aren’t you a beauty! Any friend of Patricia’s is welcome here. I have to tell you, I knew it was you before I ever saw that video. As soon as I got in the building, there was this buzz about a small girl who hit an impossible shot. ‘Has to be Conner,’ I said to myself, right then and there. Still, I couldn’t believe my eyes! God damn shot was beyond impossible … ‘scuse my French.”

“Does he know what French is?” asks Gretchen.

“He does,” I answer. So that’s what tonight’s going to be about. Nuts! I might have expected it. I really should have done something more normal. A three quarter court shot, anything but what I did.

It was pretty darn cool though. “Thanks Coach, but it was just a lucky shot. I was still woozy from that pick, I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“Bullshit! ‘Scuse my French.” Gretchen starts to say something but I wave her off. “I’ve seen that look in your eyes before, that wicked, evil look just before you do something unbelievable … though, I can’t say I’ve seen you that angry before. Thank God.”

“Well, you can think what you want Coach, but I was there and I say it was a lucky shot.”

“I was there too,” said Gretchen, “and he’s one hundred percent right.”

Coach reaches out and shakes her hand. “Smart girl. I like her.”

Great. Time to change the subject. “The gym looks very nice. Who did it?”

“A bunch of the ladies thought it up. Me and my boys helped, but so did a lot of others. This is the biggest one of the year, takes a lot of hands. Here comes one of the honchos now.” Coach whistles loudly, getting everybody’s attention. He points towards one of the people staring at him in surprise. “Becca!” he calls out, motioning with his right hand for her to come his way. She pauses for a moment to say something to the two other women with her, then she quickly walks towards us.

She looks younger than most of the other volunteers, more like late twenties or early thirties than parent age. Dyed blonde hair with a stylish amount of dark showing. Tall but well built, in shape, a confident, efficient aura about her.

“Is there a problem, Coach?”

“Nah, I just wanted you to meet some people. This is Jessica Conner, her daughter Patricia and Patricia’s friend, Gretchen … you didn’t tell me her last name, Patricia.”

“It’s … Hobbes,” Gretchen says quietly. The woman is staring intently at her.

“Gretchen Hobbes,” Coach continues. “This is Rebecca Robinson. She volunteers here at the Y, teaches some classes on design.”

“Fashion design. Gretchen, where did you get that dress? I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“We got it at ‘Sofia’s’ but it was damaged. Patty fixed it for me. She did all this.” Gretchen sweeps her hand across the panel I added. “She also made the one she’s wearing.”

Robinson looks over at me. “Really? You did all that?”

“You should see what she did with our school uniforms,” Gretchen added.

“I’d like to, I really would. What made you think of adding that panel?”

“I had the fabric which matched her shoes.” Gretchen stuck out her foot. Robinson nodded her head. “I thought about just shortening the hem slightly and adding a strip but it didn’t feel right. I figured, go big.”

“I’d say you made the right choice. Extraordinary! You have a real talent!”

“Thanks. It’s just a hobby.”

“Oh, it could be so much more! If you could come to one of my classes, I can show you things that might change your life!”

Coach chuckles. “Good luck with that.”

Robinson’s taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been trying to get her to join my team. This is the girl who beat all my boys … ALL of them.”

Robinson’s eyes go wide. “THIS Girl?”

“Yep. She’s also the girl who hit that basketball shot to beat St. Agnes.”

“HER?”

“That’s right. You’ll have to get in line. A lot of people want a shot at Patricia Conner.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Lots of people keep stopping by our table to talk to Patty. At first, it’s mostly the parents who are volunteers. The men want to talk about the St. Agnes game, the women ask if she’s going to play the piano again. Apparently, she played several songs the last time she was here and people loved it. She introduced me to everyone who came by. The women all complimented me on my dress, the men just complimented me … if they said anything at all. They all looked though, some looked real hard. Sometimes it was a little uncomfortable.

“Get used to it,” Patty said.

“Why should I? Why should I have to get used to the way some men look at me?”

“I guess you don’t. It’s up to you. You dress the way you want to, some people may react in ways you don’t like. You can either let their reactions dictate how you live or you can ignore their reactions and do what you want. Your choice.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“It is.”

“What if someone isn’t as confident as you, as comfortable in their skin as you are?”

“Fake it.”

“What?”

“Who says I’m so confident, so comfortable? I got problems, just like everybody else.”

“Such as?”

“For one, I’m barely five foot tall.”

“You’re four-ten.”

“Thank you, Miss six-two.”

“I’m just saying it’s no big deal.”

“I like the way you phrase that.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. I know you’ve got problems in your life and you know I’ve got them in mine. How a person handles their problems is their choice. Sometimes, if you don’t feel confident, you can fake it, act confident. Do it long enough and you can become confident. It’s worked for me.”

It sounds crazy. It IS crazy … isn’t it?

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

We’ve been here almost an hour and a half and kids are starting to show up. Terri and Javier were a couple of the first ones to arrive. I was glad to see them, they’re a major part of tonight’s plan. I pull her aside shortly after they come in.

“Terri, I need your help tonight.”

“What with?”

“I brought Gretchen here so she could meet some nice guys.”

“Looking like that? They’ll be lining up out the door and down the street. What’s the prob?”

“I said NICE guys. This is her first dance of any kind; it needs to be a good experience. I don’t know a lot of people here so I need you and Javier to help me screen likely candidates.”

“You mean, like matchmakers?”

“I’m not looking to marry her off, just meet a few half way decent guys and get out of here not hating the entire male population.”

“You dream big, Patty. You really do. Of course I’ll help, so will the other girls. It’ll be fun! So Jane Austin! How we dealing with her Dad, who he is?”

“We’re not highlighting it but we’re not hiding from it either. She is who she is. The name of Hobbes carries baggage she’s got to learn to deal with … at least for now.”

“When won’t it?”

“I’m working on that.”

“Really, just you or do you have a PR firm on retainer.”

“Just me for the moment. Good idea about the PR firm though, maybe later. For right now, she’s just Gretchen, our teammate.”

“Okay. I better get back to the table before Javier does something I’ll make sure he’ll regret.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

The other girls totally got into the matchmaker thing. Terri, Katie and the rest of the girlfriends of the team quickly began to review the history of every eligible guy they could spot. They limited themselves to guys who weren’t already dating someone because they all knew how they’d feel if somebody tried to fix up their boyfriend with a girl who looked like Gretchen.

Hot tar and feathers wouldn’t be enough.

In half an hour, they had six good prospects.

“Okay, here’s the list, one through six,” said Terri. “First, Franklin Kirby.”

“Where’s he at?” I ask.

“Over there, by the fire hose, two tables to the left. The guy in the blue shirt.” She sighs, “Just like his eyes.”

I finally spot him. Yowzaa! He’s gorgeous! I can’t see how tall he is because he’s sitting down but everything else looks perfect. The hair, the teeth, his chest … those blue eyes. Damn! Makes me squirm just to look at him.

“No good,” said Javier between forks of pasta. The guys had gotten tired of waiting for the girls to finish rating other guys so they went to the buffet and loaded up.

“Why’s that?” asked Terri.

Javier finished chewing and swallowed. “Because he’s gay.”

“NOOOO!” cried Katie. “He can’t be!”

“‘Fraid so,” replied Javier as he returned his attention to his half-full plate.

“How do YOU know?” demanded Katie.

“Just look at him. If he wasn’t gay, he’d be dating a dozen girls. Besides, I know the guy he IS seeing. They’ve been together for like three months. Cute couple.”

“Alright,” said Terri. “Number two, Gary Hubertz … or is he gay too?”

Javier swallows again. “Not that I know.”

“Good, where’s he sitting?” I ask.

Javier points to his right. “Over at the basketball players’ table. Green shirt. He’s just standing up.”

I see him. Not bad. No Franklin Kirby but not bad. And he’s tall enough, at least 6’ 5”. Gretchen’s heels are only about 3” so she tops out around six four or five. He’ll do.

“Good, now we need to get them together.”

“Easy,” grunted Javier. “Cruz, go over the ballers’ table and tell Gary Hubertz to come over here.”

“What if he don’t want to?” asks Cruz.

“Tell him a girl wants to meet him. That should do it.”

“Gotcha!”

As Cruz works his way through the crowd towards the other table, I reach over and tap Javier on the hand.

“Where’s Eric? I haven’t seen him yet.”

“Oh, Eric, uuhh yeah … Eric. Uuuhh, ya see, Eric … he’s got this part time job at a restaurant and won’t get here until later.”

“A job? Good for him! Work’s hard to find out there! How much later?”

“Like ten or so.”

That won’t give us much time to talk but that’s okay. I spot Cruz coming back to the table, Hubertz following close behind, smiling and scanning, looking for the mystery girl. The one sitting nervously beside me.

“Patty, I don’t know if I can …”

“Hush. We’ll just invite him to sit down and talk awhile, take it from there. No pressure.”

When they get to the table, Cruz moves aside, leaving Hubertz standing next to us all, clearly uncertain about what’s going on. I stand up and take his hand.

“Nice to meet you Gary. I’m Patricia Conner and this is my friend, Gretchen, Gretchen … Hobbes.”

Gretchen slowly stands up. I watch Gary’s face as his eyes follow her the entire way, gradually widening in total shock as his breathing stops.

She can do that to a person. I give his limp hand a shake, stirring him back to awareness.

“Kinda takes your breath away, doesn’t she, Gary?”

“Oh. My. God! … I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said … but you’re so … I’m sorry …”

I pull him down into the seat next to Gretchen as she sits back down, red faced. I hurry around to an empty chair opposite them and sit too.

“Don’t worry about it Gary, it’s a common reaction. I hear you play basketball. Who for?”

“Uhhh, St. Joe’s during the season and then for the Y in AAU.”

“So … a Catholic boy.”

“Yeah.”

I nod towards Terri slightly, congratulating her on her choice. She accepts with a smile.

“You know, Gary,” I say, “Gretchen plays basketball too.”

“You do? Who for?”

“Saint … Saint … Ann’s,” Gretchen says quietly.

“St. Ann’s. They’re pretty good this year.”

“Thanks. We are.” Gretchen smiled. “What’s your record?” she asked shyly.

“We’re undefeated, but, you know, it’s still early.”

“Undefeated. That’s pretty good too … even if it is … early.”

I look around the table and notice every girl there is hanging on each word being said. Better put a stop to that.

“Nothin’ to see here ladies. How ’bout a little privacy.” The girls nod and begin to move away. “Gary, we haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

“No, I was getting ready to when Cruz came over and …”

“Great! Great! Would you like to eat with us?”

“Sure! That’d be awesome!”

“Wonderful! Let’s go, I’m starving. Coming, Gretchen?”

“I am kinda hungry.”

Gary hopped up and pulled Gretchen’s chair away as she stood up. She smiled at him, looking ever so slightly up at his eyes. I was right, just about an inch or so taller than her. Good.

“You guys go on ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”

As Gary and Gretchen walked away, I stopped next to Cruz.

“Eric’s supposed to be here around ten, right?”

“Who told you that?”

“Javier. He said Eric has a part time job. In a restaurant.”

“Yeah, yeah … he does.”

“If you see him before I do, let me know.”

He glances over at Javier, then back to me. “Sure thing, Patty. You got it. Right away.”

I pat him on the shoulder. “Easy man. It’s not an emergency or anything.”

He gives me an uncertain smile.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

It’s been almost two hours and not one opening! Everywhere the bitch goes, she’s got people with her. If it’s not all those girls when they go for more food or the bathroom, it’s those fucking steroid cases. I thought Escaban said she didn’t have bodyguards. The few times it’s only been one person, it’s been Hobbes’ daughter.

Looks like this may be a waste of time. At least I’ve got a nice seat, good eats and lots of eye candy around. Teak and Julio are stuck outside.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I split my attention between watching Gretchen and Gary out on the dance floor and the big clock by the entrance doors. It’s getting closer to ten.

Gretchen said she wasn’t interested in dancing, even though Gary asked. I ended up asking Terri to loan me Javier for a couple dances to show Gretch it can be fun.

She hasn’t missed one since then.

I have to say, the girls may have picked a winner in Gary. He’s a nice kid; polite, seems to be smart, and, after getting over some initial shyness, is an interesting conversationalist. He’s done a good job of drawing Gretchen out. She’s actually stopped looking to me for reassurance. Terri takes the chair next to mine, Javier the one next to her.

“So … how’s it going?” she asks.

“Better than I thought. You did good with Gary. Gretchen’s really enjoying herself.”

“It’s a talent. I was talking about your clock watching. And door watching.”

“What?! I’m not …”

“Don’t try and deny it, Patricia. You’ve been nervous all night.”

“Well, if I have, it’s been about Gretchen.”

“Like hell. You think you’re the only one who’s observant? I’ve been watching you for months. When you’ve got one of your schemes cooking, you’re the ice queen. Ever since Gretchen started dancing, you’ve been nervous as a cat. What gives?”

“Nothing.” She gives me a look of disbelief. I hold out my hand, flat, palm down. “See. No shakes. Nothin’ going on here.”

Terri flops back in her chair. “Humpf”

Just then, Gretchen comes back to our table, leading Gary by the hand. They’re both smiling and glowing from the exertion. I pull a chair out.

“Have a seat.” Gretchen pauses. “What is it?”

“Ummm Gary wants me to sit with him over at his table, so I can meet his friends. I told him I had to ask you if it was okay.”

“I don’t know. I told your dad that I’d be responsible for …”

Terri touches my shoulder and leans close to my ear. “Easy up a little. Nothing’s gonna happen in here.”

She’s right. This is exactly what I hoped would develop. Still … I need to make sure Gary’s aware of who’s in charge.

“Okay Gretch, if that’s what you want. Gary, you need to know that I promised Gretchen’s father that I’d bring her home safe and sound. I’ll be very upset if something happens to her, you understand?”

He looks down at me from all his six-five male attitude and smiles. “Sure. No problem.”

He doesn’t understand.

“I don’t think you quite do. Javier, you want to explain it to him?”

“Sure thing, Patricia. Gary, my man … you know all that shit that was goin’ round this place this past summer bout a girl who whipped our asses in the practice ring?”

Gary’s smile stretches into a big grin. “Oh yeah! We all thought it was funny as hell.”

Javier jerks his thumb at me. “She’s the one who did it. You couldn’t pay me to piss her off. Besides, me and the boys think of Gretchen more as a sister than a friend, ain’t that right Cruz?”

Cruz nodded his head in agreement. “Absolutely.”

“So, ya see, Gretchen’s got a lot of guardian angels around here.”

Gary’s grin is gone, replaced a look of serious concern tinged with fear. Gretchen’s enjoying the show.

“Now do you understand?” I ask.

“Yeah, I got it. Be good.”

“As gold. You two go have fun.”

Gary hurries away, gently pulling Gretchen with him. She looks back at me, blowing a kiss and wiggling her fingers. As they disappear into the crowd, Cruz stands up.

“She’s a sister that I’d love to …”

“Careful with what you say next.”

“Just saying that if it don’t work out with Hubertz, I’m next in line.”

“Actually,” said Terri, “you were sixth on our list.”

“SIXTH?! What the fuck you talking bout?! I’m the best damn … Hey, there’s Eric.”

I jerk my head around towards the double doors at the far end of the gym. I can’t see anything over the crowd so I jump up on my chair. Now I can see him, standing part way in the door. I start waiving my right hand wildly in the air, trying to let him know where I … we are. He ducks partially back out the door but steps right back in, walking into the gym … with a beautiful girl holding his arm.

CHAPTER FIFTY SIX

“That’s one mean friend you got there, Gretchen.”

“She’s not really mean … well, she is mean sometimes … not mean exactly … she’s hard to describe. If something needs to be done, she’ll do it, even if some people would call it a mean thing to do. But she only does it to help people.”

And punish them if they try to hurt her or her friends.

“She acts like she’s your mother or something.”

“She’s not my mother, she’s my BFF. Patty feels responsible for me. She had to make a lot of promises to my father to get him to agree to let me come here tonight. If Patty makes a promise, she takes it seriously. I know. The stories I could tell you about Patricia Conner.”

“Really? Like what?”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

A girl.

A beautiful girl.

Why the f … f … fuc … FUCK DIDN”T SOMEBODY TELL ME??!!

I turn and stare down at both Javier and Cruz.

“Did you know about this?” I ask as calmly as possible. They both step back.

“Now, don’t get mad, Patty,” said Cruz.

“Yeah, Da’Pee, it’s not our fault,” added Javier.

I hop off the chair, walking towards them. They both step back again, keeping their distance. “You didn’t think I might be interested in knowing that Eric is dating some … cute girl.”

“We didn’t think it was any of our business, right Cruz?”

“That’s right. And it ain’t like you been around much or anything. He waited for you but you never came back.”

“Hey, I’m busy! I got school and … basketball … and other stuff.”

“So what, we all got that shit. You make time for what’s important.”

Terri jumped between us, hugging my shoulder. “Shut up, Javier! You don’t know all the stuff Patricia does, all the things she has to take care of. I couldn’t do it! All either of you had to do was give her a heads up. Is that too much for one friend to do for another?”

Cruz and Javier look guiltily at each other. Cruz finally speaks up.

“We didn’t know what she might do. We didn’t want to get …”

“Beat up,” finished Javier.

“Hey Guys! What’s up?”

We all quickly turn to face Eric and his … girlfriend, fake smiles on our faces. At least mine is fake.

“Nothin’, man,” said Cruz, slapping Eric’s outstretched hand. “Took ya long enough.”

Eric and Javier clap each other on the back and bump chests, then he turns to the girls.

“Claudette, this is Terri Hughes, Javier’s girlfriend. Terri, this is Claudette DesCartes.”

Terri reaches out to shake her hand but DesCartes gives her the old double handshake, grab with the right and cover with the left.

“I am sooo ‘appy to meet you, Terree.”

Great. A French accent.

“Nice to meet you too, Claudette.”

“I’ve saved the best for last. Didn’t know you were gonna be here, Patty.”

“I mentioned it to Javier and Cruz, guess they forgot to tell you about it. There’s a lot of that going around.”

“Guess so. Anyway, Claudette, I’d like you to meet the one and only … Patricia Conner.”

I step forward, my right hand out. DesCartes goes for the double again but I quickly catch both her hands with mine, push them down slightly as I step closer, rapidly kissing her on both cheeks.

“Bonjour, Claudette.” I release her hands and fall back. She slowly raises her left hand, with long, thin fingers, and lightly touches where I kissed her.

“Oh my! Just like home. Bonjour, Patricia.”

Five two, I’d guess, slender but not skinny, dark skin, dark hair, exotic eyes. Probably Caribbean heritage with a little Asian thrown in. Moves smoothly, sultry. Most likely flexible as heck.

I feel like a Midwestern farm girl.

“No, you don’t get it,” said Eric. “You know that girl I told you about, the one who can do all those things. This is HER!”

I thought, for a moment, I saw anger in her face, but it quickly disappeared, replaced by a good imitation of awe.

“No! It can’t be ‘er! She is so petite!”

“Why thank you, Claudette. You know what the say, surprising things come in small packages.”

“I thought the saying was good things come in small packages.”

“That too. Have you guys eaten yet? The buffet’s kinda picked clean.”

Eric waived his right hand. “We’re good. Ate at work before we got here. You’re looking really good, Patty. Really good.”

“Patricia makes her own clothes,” said Terri.

“Mon dieu! So talented!”

Javier started rearranging the chairs. “Let’s all just sit down, take a load off. You guys gotta be tired.”

“Just for a moment or two. Eric and I came to dance!” She gave a little shimmy that would cause any man’s dick to perk right up.

“Go ahead and sit, Claudette. I’ll get us something to drink before we start. Then I can tell everybody how we met.”

I drop into a chair. “Wonderful. Can’t wait to hear it.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

They’re out on the floor, dancing so close you couldn’t get a tissue between them, her hands around his waist, thumbs resting on his back pants pockets, his placed on her pert, cute bottom. It’s a slow, romantic song.

Thank God they aren’t serving booze. I’m a nasty drunk.

Terri’s sitting next to me, sharing a bowl of pretzels. “I can hate her, if you want. It won’t be hard. Javier’s been paying more attention than he should. Not like he did to Gretchen but I can forgive him that. I mean, it’s Gretchen! Even I think twice when it’s Gretchen.”

She’s just saying that to cheer me up. It helps. A little.

“No. Javier’s right. It was my fault.”

“He’s smarter than he looks.”

“Well he’d have to be, wouldn’t he?”

“True. Why didn’t you do anything about Eric?”

“I don’t know. It just wasn’t a top priority. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to.”

“Until tonight.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, “until tonight.”

We keep watching them dance while we slowly work our way to the bottom of the bowl.

“Terri, you don’t have to stay with me, you know.”

“That’s okay, unless you want to talk to Gretchen instead.”

I glance over at where Gretchen’s sitting. She’s with a bunch of guys and girls, laughing and talking a mile a minute.

“No. She’s enjoying herself, which is why we came in the first place.”

“So tonight is just about her?”

“Mostly.”

“Nothing for little Patty Conner?”

“Apparently not. It’s probably for the best anyway … in the long run, we’re all better off.”

“That’s crap and you know it.”

It suddenly hits me. I can’t watch Eric and Claudette out on the dance floor anymore. If I have to see them for ten more seconds, I’ll freak out. I need to talk to someone who knows me, who understands me.

I need my mother. Right now.

“Look, Terri. I gotta find my mom. Will you stay here and keep any eye on Gretchen for me? I won’t be long, I promise. Everything’s going smoothly anyway.”

“Sure, I’ll relieve you, Captain. Where’s your mom at?”

“I don’t know … but I see Coach Tobey over by the exit near the kitchen. He’ll know where she is.”

I stand up and start to reach for my purse then decide to leave it here.

“You sure you’re cool with this, Terri? I don’t have to …”

She waives her hand dismissively. “Go. Find your mom. Have a good cry. You need it.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“Besides, what could possibly go wrong?”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I grab the phone.

“Wake up boys! She’s on the move and she’s alone! Looks like she’s headed for an exit, the one by the kitchen … wait, she’s stopped. Damn it! Bitch, if you don’t … she’s talkin’ to this old dude … still talkin’ … FUCK YEAH! They’re going outside! Get over there as fast as you can!”

Time to show what we can do. Time for some fun!

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“Thanks Coach, I appreciate this a lot.”

“That’s okay, we should be able to find her pretty quick, though she should be way on the other side of the building. It’d be faster if we go through than around.”

“I’d rather do it this way, if it’s all the same to you. I needed to get out of there. The air will do me good.”

“The air I understand, the ground maybe something else.”

“What are you … nuts!” My stiletto heel sinks into the dirt. It rained yesterday and the ground’s still soft. “I see what you mean. We’ll get to pavement soon enough.”

“Here, take my arm, that’ll help.”

He’s right, it is easier. We’re just about to reach the loading dock for the kitchen when I hear someone coming up behind us, fast. I look back over my shoulder in time to catch the glint of a knife. I hop up and push off Coach with both feet, throwing him out of the path of the running man and me towards the concrete around the dock, where I land on both feet but barely keep my balance. Darn shoes!

The man stops between us, squatting in an attack position, a six-inch knife in his right hand.

“Old man! Get over here right now or I cut the girl’s throat! You hear me? NOW!”

“Coach! Run for it! Get help!”

Coach Tobey starts to edge my way, moving slowly, carefully.

“Listen son, we don’t need any trouble here. No one’s gonna do anything stupid. Just take it easy.”

He’s doing exactly what the guy wants, get us together so he can control both of us. The Coach is coming to protect me. Blasted male chauvinism!

“Coach! Stop! I can take this guy! Go for help! Run!”

“Don’t listen to her old man! You keep on coming this way.”

“NO! COACH! RUN!”

He keeps sliding my way as the guy starts to circle away, giving Coach Tobey room to move closer to me.

“Stay calm Patty, let me handle this. No one’s gonna get hurt. What do you want, son? Money? Drugs?”

“I want you to shut up and keep moving, old man.”

The guy’s standing on the grass, no way I can get to him wearing these heels. The concrete around me is littered with broken glass, mostly beer bottles. So much for going bare foot. By now, Coach is only five feet away from me. We’ve got the elevated loading dock behind us and the jerk with the knife in front of us. We still have the advantage, two against one, if Coach would just work with me.

“Listen, Coach. Stop right there! We can take this guy. I know how to deal with knives, trust me, I’ve done it before.”

He keeps moving towards me. “Now Patricia, don’t you do anything crazy. I can’t let you get hurt. I’m the adult here, let me handle it.”

“I thought you said that if there was trouble, you’d want to be behind me.”

“Honey, I was just kidding around. This is serious. Everyone just needs to stay calm.”

It’s too late. He’s standing next to me and we’re pinned against the dock. Wonderful. The guy just stands there, knife in his right hand, looking out towards the street. Maybe he hears something. I strain to listen, cocking my head to one side.

YES! There’s someone running this way. They heard all the commotion. We’re gonna be okay! Coach hears it too. All three of us are watching to see who comes around the corner of the building.

It’s two guys. I don’t recognize either of them, but from the look on the first guy’s face, he does. We are so screwed.

As they sprint toward guy one, each of them pulls their own knife. Now it’s three armed guys against a middle aged Don Quixote and me. Coach steps in front of me.

“There’s no reason for anyone to get hurt here. Let’s all be calm. What do you want?”

Guy one flicks his knife towards me. “We want the bitch.”

“What?”

“We want the girl, old man.”

“What for?”

“What do ya think?”

Coach glances back at me, fear in his eyes but a look of determination on his face. Oh no. He turns back to confront our attackers.

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that.”

“You gonna stop us, old dude?”

“You’ll have to go through me to get to her.”

OH GOD NO! The misguided fool is going to get himself killed trying to protect me! I grab his arm.

“Don’t Coach, they’ll kill you. Just let me handle this, please!”

“No way. You’re my responsibility. What would I tell your mother? My boys? My wife?” He gently pushes me back behind him, shielding me. Guy one steps closer, his friends spreading out behind him, left and right, following him.

“That’s the way you want it, we gonna bring it, old man.”

Desperate for a weapon of some kind, I search everywhere. Not a stick, pipe, piece of metal or rock bigger than gravel to be seen. Even the broken glass has been pulverized by truck tires until there’s not a piece big enough to grip in your hand.

As they slowly approach, Coach turns left and right, trying to anticipate who’ll strike first. Just then, I catch a reflection from one of the lights over the dock.

Yes … yes … OH GOD THANK YOU, YES!

I run around in front of Coach and drop to my knees, facing him. I claw at his championship belt, trying to get it out of the belt loops.

“Patty! Stop it! What are you doing? Stop it!”

One of the guys behind me starts laughing. “Looks like the little whore wants some cock. Maybe she gets horny when she scared! I got some for you right here, bitch!” he says in a deep baritone. He’ll pay for that.

I finally manage to loosen the belt, whipping it free from the Coach’s pants as I stand, knocking him off balance. Before he regains control, I hit him with my shoulder, pushing him towards and past our attackers, who are so shocked, they just stand and watch as he stumbles past them, eventually sprawling face first on the ground about ten feet behind them. As he scrambles to his feet, I begin to whirl the belt in a circle above my head, the heavy metal buckle at the end, the sound of it cutting through the air getting louder as the speed rapidly increases.

“COACH! RUN! GET HELP! I’LL HOLD THEM OFF! PLEASE! GET HELP!”

He just stares at me for what seems like minutes then, finally, grabs the waist band of his pants with both hands and sprints toward the building, quickly disappearing into the shadows.

My attackers look back and forth between themselves then turn towards me as I settle into a steady rhythm, the belt singing as it slices the air above me.

“Well boys, it’s just us now … let’s dance.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

As soon as I reach a dark spot, I spin and hit the ground, waiting to see if any one followed me. They hadn’t moved, their attention focused on Patricia.

What the FUCK was she thinking! I had things under control … well, not under control, but at least I was going to make it hard on them, maybe buy some time. I may be old but I know a lot of tricks. They may have eventually got me but it would have taken some time, time that Patty doesn’t have now.

I can’t leave her alone! But I can’t go charging back in there without a plan or a weapon of some kind. Unfortunately, there’s nothing around to use. We keep the whole place too fucking clean!

The first guy steps toward her. “What the fuck you think you doing, bitch? Think we be afraid of a belt?”

“Don’t know, don’t really care. Your clock is ticking. My friend’s gone for help. You got two, maybe three minutes before the shit hits the fan. All I have to do is hold you off that long.”

“Fuck this shit! Teak, get her.”

The biggest one of the three eased closer to Patty, darting forward in sharp moves, trying to time the belt as it swung by his head. Patty was moving too, up on her toes, changing the angle of the rotation, making it hard to predict where the buckle was going to be.

“Quit fucking around with the bitch, Teak!” shouted the first guy. The big guy turned his head to say something back. I saw it before he did. Actually, he never saw it at all.

Patty lunged at him, smacking him in the side of the head with the speeding buckle. She didn’t hit him square in the head, that would have stopped the belt, leaving her vulnerable. It just clipped him, but it did it several times, hitting him in a different spot on his head each time as he spun around. He dropped to the ground with a thump and stayed there.

I know a knockout when I see one.

Patty swooped down and scooped up the knife he dropped with her free hand, the belt circling her head the entire time. As soon as she got the knife she skipped back away from the unconscious boy, smiling.

“One down. Who’s next? Tick tock.”

The other two never budged, they didn’t have time. Patty moved as quickly as I’ve ever seen a human being move.

“What the fuck was that?!” the third guy said to the first. “We gotta get out of here! You know what goes down if we get caught. I ain’t waiting around to be arrested for this shit. I ain’t gonna die!”

“Julio, shut up! We got this. All we do is …” he stopped, looked over at Patty and waived his hand at his partner. “Come here.”

The two moved closer, still blocking Patty from leaving. They huddled up but kept a close eye on her. They were arguing with each other but only for a few seconds. When they broke, each one went to nearly opposite sides of Patty. If she’d been wearing regular shoes, she could have run for it and they’d never caught her, but not in those heels. It looked like they were going to try to attack at the same time. Patty figured it out too, picking up the pace on the circling belt.

“Better hurry guys, you haven’t got much time left.”

“Shut your mouth,” the first guy growled.

“OOooowww, big man. Make me, Chuckles. Remember, I’ve got a knife too now.”

“Chicks don’t know shit about knives.”

“We know were a guy keeps his balls and dick. A few pokes in that area can do a lot of damage.”

Even I cringed when she said that. The guys went back to trying to time the belt but they were squatting lower, like they planned to go under the belt. With Patty being so short, that was going to be a neat trick.

“When we get you, bitch, I’m gonna fuck ya blind, ya got that? Blind!”

“I hear you. Tick tock, Chuckles.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna be mine. You’ll like it too. Ya’ll gonna beg for more. I’m gonna GO!”

Both of them dove low and tried to scuttle towards Patty as fast as they could but she was ahead of ‘em. She jumped back away from the first guy, angling the belt down, aiming for his head. He stopped and backed off. Problem with that is it left an opening for the other guy, who charged forward. Patty spun away but, as she did, she slid her left hand up the belt as she pulled it down with her right, stopping the spinning, then she immediately snapped it down, whipping it around the guy’s neck. She pulled him forward, keeping him off balance and stumbling. He couldn’t stand up but tried to hustle forward, all bent over, to get some room to get upright but Patty wouldn’t let him. She pulled him along, swung him around her … head first into the concrete wall with a loud, hollow “thonk”.

He ran into that wall so hard … it may have killed him.

And Patty’s now holding two knives. She quickly takes up a defensive position in front of the first guy.

“Two down, Chuckles. You don’t have much time left or many options. These two … they’re mine. Someone put you up to this and I want to know who. They’re gonna tell me. You think they won’t dime you? They will once I’m done with ‘em.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Me? Just a little Catholic schoolgirl, nobody special.”

“Fuck that shit!”

“Whatever. You can run, but I got a feeling whoever hired you won’t be happy about that and you won’t last very long out there. You could try to kill me, but you’ve got about forty five seconds before a pot load of people come rushing out here to save me.”

“SAVE YOU?!”

“That’s what they’ll be thinking. Only you and I know different. Even if you do manage to kill me, which you won’t, by the way, you can’t get your two friends out of here in time to avoid being caught.”

“What you saying, bitch?”

“I’m saying that your only chance to get out of this alive is to tell me who sent you. You tell me that and I’ll go head off the rescue mob, give you a chance to get your buddies safely away. No one will ever know this happened. What do ya say?”

“I say … THIS!”

He charged her, wildly swinging his knife in front of him. She easily avoided the attack, lightly floating away, staying ahead, but he was backing her into the corner of the loading dock and wall.

Time for me to move.

Pushing up off the ground and grabbing my pants, I start to run just as Patty’s back reaches the corner. He swipes left and right at her but she dodges each swing. When he tries to slash her from above, she deflects the blow with her forearm and spins out of the corner, driving her spiked heel into his kidney.

He’s tougher than I thought. He didn’t scream. He did stop fighting and doubled over, clutching his side.

Patty grabbed his left hand by the wrist, pushed it up against the wooden edge of the loading dock and drove a knife through the palm of his hand all the way to the handle, pinning him to the dock.

Now he screamed.

She backed away as he returned to swinging the knife at her, tears rolling down his cheeks while he cursed. After a few futile swipes, he threw the knife at her but it hit the ground before reaching her. He turned to try to pull her knife out of the loading dock but the pain was too great and he had lousy leverage.

“Sorry Chuckles. See ya’ in hell.”

She turns and starts to walk away.

“Wait! … wait … I’ll talk … I’ll talk.”

She looks at him over her shoulder. “That was a limited time offer. You’re screwed now.”

“Come on! They’ll kill us!”

“Not my problem.”

“PLEASE!”

She slowly turned back towards him and strode within five feet of the bawling thug.

“Who’s the bitch now?”

“What?”

“Who’s. The. Bitch. Now.”

“I don’t understand.”

She spins on her heel. “Wrong answer.”

“I AM!”

She rushes towards him, gettting in his face. “Say it.”

“I’m the bitch.”

“Remember that. Who sent you?”

“Get me off this thing first.”

“Yeah, right. Who sent you?”

“How do I know …”

“You don’t. Who sent you?”

The thug hesitated then gave up, slumping against the concrete behind him.

“Hobbes, Raymond Hobbes.”

Patty was shocked. “You sure?”

“Yeah, it was Hobbes.”

“How do you know it was Hobbes? He do it in person?”

“No, he sent somebody. The guy’s name was Escaban.”

“Escaban?”

“Yeah. We weren’t supposed to know it but Raphael let it slip.”

“Did Escaban say Hobbes wanted this done? Think carefully.”

“He said some other dude was told by Hobbes to get it done. Cardoza.”

“Enrique Cardoza?”

“He just said Cardoza, I swear!”

Patty stalked away, right past me, her heels sinking into the ground.

“Let him down, Coach.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

What went wrong?

How did Hobbes finger me? Or did he? This isn’t his style. There’s no way he’d have a group of punks like those guys deal with an undercover cop. Not with just knives. They thought they were after a teenage girl.

Hobbes would have no reason to have me killed if he didn’t know what I am. He loves me. Well, not actual love but he likes me. I saved his business! I’m helping him with Gretchen! If he didn’t know I had betrayed him, there’d be no reason for him to hurt me and if he did know I’d betrayed him, then he’d have done a lot more to punish me. Besides, after that display at his house today, I’d like to think that my radar is sensitive enough that I’d have noticed that something was up.

Hobbes didn’t have anything to do with this. I’d bet my life on it.

If it wasn’t Hobbes, then who was it? The obvious choice is Cardoza. Escaban is his messenger boy. It’d be just like him to use Escaban to arrange this, but again … why? If he’d discovered what I am, he’d go straight to Hobbes and I’ve already been through that scenario.

If he didn’t go to Hobbes … he’s doing this on his own, not using Hobbes’ resources. He’d only do that if he doesn’t want Hobbes to know! What does he get out of my death? Why now? I need to think about this.

Sitting on the smoker’s bench outside the kitchen door, head down, I can hear Coach Tobey shuffling through the grass, heading my way. I slide over just as he arrives and he plops down next to me. Neither of us says anything right away.

“They gone?” I ask.

“Yeah, I got the one guy’s hand wrapped in a towel just as the first guy you knocked out came to. They both carried the third guy away. He’s alive but may have a fractured skull, hit that wall pretty hard.”

“Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

“Amen. Why’d you let them go?”

“Found out what I needed to know. Calling the police just complicates things.”

“So … you know what all this was about?”

“Maybe.”

“I see … sorry I wasn’t able to help … just couldn’t leave you alone out there.”

“That’s okay, Coach. As long as they thought you went for help, it forced their hand. That helped a lot. I was more interested in getting you out of the way. They’d have killed you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah … I do. They’d have had to work for it though.”

“I bet they would have. I appreciate the thought … I really do, but I couldn’t have that on my conscience … too much bad stuff up there already.”

We sit silently for a few moments.

“Patricia … you mind if I ask you a question?”

“No Coach, go ahead.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“‘Scuse your French?”

“Not this time. I don’t care what you look like; no seventeen year old girl beats three gang bangers armed with knives using only a God damn belt!”

“Yeah … but it was a championship belt.”

“Be serious girl! I want to know who, or what you are.”

“What if I can’t tell you?”

“Then you can’t be coming around here anymore. We can’t have this kind of trouble anywhere near the Y. We struggle to keep this place an island of peace and hope in a sea of despair. Trouble makers aren’t welcome.”

“TROUBLE MAKER?! I was defending myself out there! They attacked me, remember?”

“I was there … I saw it. I saw the fucking impossible. You could have beat those boys senseless. Dressed like an angel wearing spiked heels and using my old belt. You could have killed them. You MAY have killed one of them.”

“It was harder than it looked, Coach.”

“No doubt. If they had been smarter, or more experienced, or had the vaguest idea of who or what they were dealing with, they could have given you some trouble. But, somehow, I think you’d have come out on top, no matter what. They came looking specifically for you, Patricia. For YOU. This was no accident. Even if you didn’t start trouble, you attracted it. Until you can either explain it or convince me it won’t happen again, the Y can’t afford to take the chance.”

“Just like that? You’re tossing me out?”

“Girl, you think this is easy for me?! You saved my life, for Christ’s sake! You’re one of the nicest, most talented, most … I don’t know what you are, I only know you aren’t who or what you say you are, you can’t be.”

“You’re saying a girl can’t be as good as I am?”

“Look me in the eye and tell me, as God is your witness, you’re just a seventeen year old girl who goes to Catholic school and likes to play basketball, do martial arts and sew fashionable dresses in her spare time. You tell me that.”

In the old days, I’d have tried. I’d have sucked it up, put on my best smile and laid it on thick. Tonight, right now, I just couldn’t, not to Coach Tobey. He would have died trying to protect me. Besides, there’s bigger battles to fight before today is done. I stand up.

“Do I have to leave now?”

He seems surprised. “No … no … not now. You can finish the night. Do you still need to see your mother? Wait … is she really your mother?”

“Coach, if I’m not telling you about me, do you think I’m gonna answer that question?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Before we go find her, I want to say two things. First, what happened tonight has to stay between you and I. No one else can ever know. Ever. It’s a matter of life and death.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Maybe both.”

“Okay, deal. What’s second?”

“One day, if I can, I’m coming back here and tell you what you want to know.”

“Patricia … I hope to God damn heaven you do. ‘Scuse my French.”

CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN

“So … we’re done.”

“Not necessarily, Mom.”

“Someone just tried to kill you, Patricia. I’d say we’re done.”

“The questions are, who tried to kill me and why. Until I know that, I’m not pulling out.”

“How do you plan on finding out without dying?”

“Because, I’m pretty sure that it wasn’t Hobbes, it was Cardoza, and he’s doing it on his own.”

“Pretty sure?”

“Very sure … almost positive.”

“Big jump there. What’s the new evidence?”

“Nothing … I just don’t want you backing out on me, not now.”

“Again, what’s your plan?”

“When we take Gretchen home tonight, it should be fairly easy to tell if Hobbes is surprised to see me. If he reacts normally, then it wasn’t him.”

“Unless he’s a scheming, unapologetic, sociopath.”

“He’s not. I’ve met a few in my prior jobs. They’re more like Cardoza.”

“Assuming you’re right, it’s not Hobbes, what can you do about it? You’ve got no proof of anything. If Cardoza tried to have you killed, why would he stop now? We have to face facts, Patricia … this changes everything. We are out of time.”

When Coach Tobey and Patricia found me, it was clear they were upset. Coach was not his usual jolly self. She gave me a very brief description of what happened with Coach adding the details she omitted before he hurried back to the dance. What little they told me was terrifying. And now she’s considering doing nothing, acting like it never happened. Slumped against a wall, hugging her bare arms tightly to her body due to the chilly night, she seems so frail and fragile.

At one time, I would have risked anything, everything, to get Raymond Hobbes. But not now … not her.

“We’re so close, Mom! You’re right but … it’s almost done! Or nearly done.”

“What exactly is so close? Getting the information Lipsomb needs or your plan to transform Raymond Hobbes?”

She doesn’t want to answer. Eventually, she sighs.

“I can get to the servers by the end of next week. It’s all in place. Tippett’s going to Las Vegas Thursday to spend a long weekend at a big conference for hackers and security specialists. It’s like Woodstock for those guys. Once he’s out of town, my window of opportunity opens.”

“And the other?”

She sighs again. “Not yet. I’m getting closer but I need more time. This is more important than those computer files. It’s Gretchen’s chance for a future.”

“Everyone has a future, honey.”

“You know what I mean.”

I did. “I understand. You tried. You tried harder than anybody could have expected. Harder than I’ve ever seen anyone try before. Harder than Hobbes deserved. Sometimes … you don’t win.”

“I’ve lost before … but this time … the price she’s gonna pay.”

“Maybe we can help her.”

“Maybe. It’s gonna be bad, Mom.”

“I know, honey. Look, if you promise me that you’ll wrap this up as soon as reasonably possible, I’ll go back to Hobbes with you tonight, give you a chance to find out what you can.”

“Really? You certain about that?”

“You said you were almost positive it wasn’t Hobbes.”

“More like pretty sure.”

“Terrific. What I’m saying is I trust your judgment. We go back tonight and you decide if it’s safe enough to hang around another week. If you want to give it a try, I’m in. If you don’t, we go back to Daniel and tell him we’re done. Fair enough?”

“More than fair.”

“Coach said you two were already on the way to find me before you were attacked. Why was that?”

“It was nothing, certainly in comparison to all this.”

“Had to be something, enough to chase me down and leave Gretchen alone.”

“Terri’s watching her for me.”

“You don’t delegate well. What was it? Come on, tell Mom all about it.”

“I was upset about something.”

I don’t say anything, just stare at here, eyebrows raised. “Really minor stuff.”

I don’t budge.

“This guy, my friend Eric … Spikeman, you met him.”

“I remember.”

“Well, Eric showed up late … with a date.”

“And that upset you?”

“Nobody told me about it before he came waltzing in with this exotic beauty on his arm. Javier and Cruz knew about it and they said nothing. NOTHING! I was completely blindsided! Standing up on my chair, waiving my hands like an idiot! He rolls in with Miss Oh so Cultured. You think either of them would have mentioned something but noooooo, they just left me hanging out there!”

“So you were upset because your friends kept information about another friend secret?”

“Yeah, that was it, absolutely.”

“… and you felt betrayed …”

“Exactly.”

“… by your friends … and Eric.”

“See? It was nothing … particularly when you compare it to almost being killed. Right?”

“Oh I understand. Completely. Why’d you have to see me about it?”

“I just couldn’t take it anymore, those two, dancing like that.”

“Cruz and Javier?”

“NO! Eric and Claudette!”

“Claudette? Is that her name?”

“Yeah, Claudette DesCartes. Some name, huh? What ever happened to Betty or Sally or … or …”

“Patty.”

“Yes! Exactly! I knew you’d understand. I have to get back to the dance, been gone too long. God knows what they’ve been doing. We’ll stay in the gym until you’re done and then we’ll take Gretchen home and see what we’ll see.”

“How’s Gretchen doing?”

“Okay, I think. She’s enjoying herself, dancing, having fun. When I left, she was sitting with the AAU basketball team and their girlfriends.”

“Was that wise?”

“Terri’s got her eye on them and she’s more than trustworthy. Besides, Gary was warned about what would happen if he crossed any lines. He seems to be a good kid.”

“And you’re okay with Gretchen seeing this boy and his friends?”

“Why not? It’s the only reason I’m here tonight. Gotta go. See you later … and Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks. I appreciate all your help.”

“Your welcome, sweetie. One last thing, what’s your setting?”

“Blue twenty five. Why?”

“No reason, just curious. I’ll see you and Gretchen in the gym.”

“Right. Later.”

She turned and hurried away, heels clicking as she strode down the sidewalk, hips swaying, tight bottom undulating, hair bouncing.

Poor girl. She has no idea how far gone she is, not consciously anyway.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“Took you long enough! It’s almost midnight!”

“Sorry, Terri. Took longer than I thought to find her then she asked me all these questions. You know how parents are.”

“God, do I know. Gretchen’s out dancing with Gary, nothin’ funny has happened since you left. I’m grabbing Javier and getting out there before midnight.”

“What happens at midnight?”

“They drop all those balloons and everyone kisses their boyfriend … sorry, I forgot about … you know.”

“No problem.”

“Patty, are you okay? You look real … serious or somethin’.”

“I’m fine, you go find Javier, give him something to remember the night by.”

Terri laughed and winked at me, then hustled off, leaving me alone at the team’s table. Most of them were on the dance floor, even those without dates. I think I’d heard that some of the balloons had gift certificate attached so it was also a prize drop. Hope they have enough people to prevent fights. No wonder Coach had to get back here when he did.

It’s pretty easy to find Gretchen and Gary, they stand about half a head taller than most everyone else out there. She really does seem to be enjoying herself. I’m glad. Maybe these happy memories will help her get through the crap that’s coming. Can’t see Eric and Claudette. Thank God.

Damn you Cardoza! Why now?

“Hey Pee.”

Cruz pulls out the chair next to me and sits down.

“Hey Cruz.”

“We cool?”

“Sure, we’re cool.”

“Good. We just didn’t want to get in the middle of anything.”

“And you didn’t want to get beat up.”

“That too. You wanna dance?”

“No thanks. You might be expecting something at midnight.”

“You bet I would. Girls say I’m a damn good kisser.”

“And yet, you’re sitting here with me.”

“My problem is, I can’t settle on one girl.”

“Maybe your problem is you haven’t found the right girl.”

“Not me. I’m a player.”

Just then, the crowd started counting down from ten to one. When they hit one, the band started to play a rock version of “Auld Lang Syne” as couples hugged, kissed and swayed to the music. It took the balloons a few seconds to reach the dancers but, when they did, kids started hitting them all over the gym, laughing and jumping. Gretchen was really getting into it until Gary slowly spun her around and kissed her. Gretchen threw her arms over his shoulders and responded … with vigor. I was a fraction of a second from doing something when they broke the kiss and waived at me.

It was a show for me … or was that just the excuse? Either way, things were fine for now. I look over at Cruz. He’s leaning forward, elbows and forearms on the table, fingers interlocked. I tip my chair his direction and kiss his cheek.

“Happy New Year, Cruz.”

He turns his head and smiles at me. “Happy New Year, Patricia.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I let Gretchen ride shotgun, long legs ya know. She hadn’t said much since we left the Y, though she and Gary lingered awhile by the front door when it was time to go. He stayed until the very end, told his friends he’d catch up to them later. There wasn’t any later for Gretchen. Hobbes expected her home as soon as Mom finished her shift and we weren’t going to give him any reason to be upset, not with what I had to do when we got there. It took Mom to start things off.

“So, did you girls have a good time?”

“Just the best ever. Patty, the next dance is in February, Valentine theme, naturally. We have GOT to go!”

“Think your dad will let you?” I ask.

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll sneak out if I have to.”

“I’m sure your father will be reasonable, Gretchen,” said Mom. “What was so much fun?”

“What wasn’t? The food, the dancing, the people, the music, everything.”

“You met some new friends?”

“Lots. Gary and all his teammates. And others. You know, Patty, sitting with all those tall guys, I didn’t feel so … visible, ya know? I didn’t stand out so much.”

Oh, you stood out alright. “No one gave you any trouble then?”

“After your little speech … not a chance.”

“What’d you guys talk about?”

“At first, mainly you.”

“ME?!”

“Yep. They all had heard about you. Everyone … and I mean everyone, had seen the video of the St. Agnes game but I was the only one who had actually been there. I did nothing but answer questions the first hour or so. You really are famous around there.”

“But still modest.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I hope you got to talk about things other than Patricia,” said Mom as I coughed several times. “Interesting as she may be.”

“Thank you.”

“Modest, my butt. We talked about all sorts of stuff. School, music, things to do around Miami. Patty! There is so much stuff we can do. Gary said he could show us all kinds of fun things, though they all want to try the paintball thing we did, particularly that dive you did off the second floor of the barn. They just didn’t believe that one.”

“Over my dead body,” said Mom. “Were the other girls friendly?”

“Not so much at first. They didn’t know me but they came around, at least most of them did.”

“I’m glad it all went so well for both of you.”

“It really did but Patty was gone for awhile. You barely got back in time for midnight. Where’d you go?”

“I remembered something I had to talk with Mom about. She’s going to be out of town next weekend and school starts that next Monday.”

“You’re gone the whole weekend, Ms. Conner?”

“Yes, dear.”

“That’s great! Patty can stay at my house all weekend!”

“I don’t know about that, Gretchen. With school starting the next day …”

“We’ll behave, I promise! No late nights or anything like that, right, Patty?”

“If you say so.”

“We would have to check with your father first, Dear.”

“He won’t have any problem, trust me. Everybody loves Patty at home.”

Almost everybody. The gates to the Hobbes mansion appear in our headlights. Time for some answers.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

No surprises at the main gate. Normal number of guards visible on the way up the drive to the house, all familiar faces. A couple of them actually waived at us. It’s a trite phrase but applies, everything is normal … too normal.

By the time we reach the main entrance, Hobbes is waiting just inside the door, casually dressed, a wide, happy smile on his face. When our car stops, Gretchen is quickly out the door and up the steps, hugging her father.

He laughs loudly. “My! My! I hope this is a good sign.”

“Thank you, Father! Thank you. I had so much fun tonight! It’s the best thing I’ve ever done!”

Mom and I trail behind her, taking the steps a little more slowly. Mom is poking along, intently scanning for trouble. I take her arm and speed her up.

“If they’re out there, waiting for us, we don’t have a chance anyway,” I whisper. “Just smile and follow my lead.”

We stop a few feet in front of Hobbes and Gretchen, waiting. They turn towards us, arms wrapped around each other’s waists.

“Ladies! I assume that I have you both to thank for my daughter’s evening.” He bows slightly. “My thanks. You have accomplished what I could not.”

“Not a problem, Mr. Hobbes,” I said.

“It wasn’t you’re fault … Raymond. These things take a woman’s touch,” added Mom. Calling Hobbes by his first name, that must have just about killed her. It helps though. Hobbes relaxes just a bit more.

“Very true, Jessica. That is something that has been lacking in both our lives for some time. Please, would you and Patricia care to come in for a little New Year’s toast?”

She glances over at me. “I don’t know, Raymond. It is rather late and …”

“Just one … for the holiday.”

I nod my head ever so slightly. She gives a ragged sigh.

“I suppose one won’t do any harm.”

Hobbes releases Gretchen and steps aside, bowing and extending his left arm towards the open door. As we walk into the main hall, it is still fully decorated for Christmas. There is a large fireplace off to the side, with four chairs around a small fire, a silver bucket on a pedestal holding an unopened bottle of champagne on ice.

Hobbes was waiting for us. He was expecting all three of us to come back, intact and unhurt.

“Everyone, have a seat. This won’t take a moment.”

Mom is clearly uncomfortable. I don’t know if she understands the significance of this display. Her feelings for Hobbes may be overwhelming everything else. Hobbes quickly removes the wrapper from the neck of the bottle and gently works the cork free, deftly catching it in his hand instead of sending it flying across the room.

Say what you will about Hobbes, he has style and class. A very smooth operator when he turns on the charm, which he’s got set on about eight of ten right now. He takes a crystal champagne flute, fills it two thirds full and hands it to Mom. He does the same with a second flute and holds it out to me.

“Now, Raymond, Patricia is only seventeen, I don’t think …”

“Tut tut, Jessica. The girls are practically adults. As lovely as they look tonight, no one would mistake them for children. It is perfectly legal for a seventeen year old to drink at home with the permission of an adult.”

“But Patricia and I are not at home.”

“A minor technicality.”

He offers the glass again and I take it. He pours a third one for Gretchen and finally one for himself. He raises it towards all of us.

“To 2012, may all our wishes and desires come true in this new year!”

“Yes!”

“Agreed.”

“Amen.”

I slowly sip mine, savoring the flavor, inhaling the bubbles. I’ve never been much of a champagne drinker, having the occasional bottle or two after the completion of a particularly tough assignment, but I haven’t had alcohol since this job started … has it been seven months already? This mind transfer thing is better than AA.

Mom empties her glass, Hobbes quickly picks up the bottle.

“Would you care for another?”

“It was very good but I’m afraid not. We need to be going and the police are everywhere tonight. We saw three stops on the way over here, didn’t we girls?”

“She’s right, Mr. Hobbes, they’re out in force.”

“You could stay the night … both of you. We have many bedrooms. We could finish this bottle … and perhaps another.”

He’s turned it up to nine of ten. Too bad it’s a waste of his time.

“I’m sorry Raymond, it’s just not possible. We must be going.”

He takes it well, knowing not to push. “A shame, perhaps some other …” There’s a loud creak as a door moves, echoing through the hall. We all look left to see Cardoza standing behind a partially open door.

“Enrique! Come in! What are you doing up at this hour?”

I think Hobbes sees a chance to extend this encounter by adding a new party. He’s right.

“I had heard that everyone had returned from the dance and I was just checking to see if all was well.”

“There were no problems, Mr. Cardoza,” said Mom. “I was chaperoning and would have been told.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing beyond the usual minor things.”

“Are you certain?”

“Not after Patty laid down the law,” said Gretchen.

“She did what?” asked Hobbes.

“Patty told everyone that they were to be nice to me and not cause any trouble or that she’d be upset. They all know her there, she’s famous. They all respect her, even the adults. Just like at school; students, teachers, nuns, everyone. Respect.”

Hobbes nods his head in agreement. Respect is something he understands, something he can relate to.

“That is how it should be. She is worthy of their respect. Enrique, have a drink. No use in letting this go to waste, eh?”

“No thank you, Raymond, it is rather late for me.”

“Oh Father! Ms. Conner will be out of town next weekend, can Patty stay here with me?”

“Certainly. That is very fortuitous. I have been wanting to speak with Patricia about a business opportunity.”

“What kind of business opportunity?” Mom demands, her hackles raised.

“Completely and totally legitimate, Jessica, I assure you. Nothing will happen without your consent. Remember that surveillance camera Patricia built?”

“Yes, what about it?”

“Mr. Tippett, my IT man, saw it and thought it had market potential. He’s in Las Vegas next week at a conference and I have told him to, quietly, see if there is any interest in the device. If there is, I would like to reach an agreement with you and Patricia concerning manufacture and sales.”

Cardoza looks ticked. “Raymond, why have we not discussed this?”

“Enrique, it has nothing to do with our business, it is completely separate! I would like to try my hand at … other kinds of business.” He glances towards Mom. “One never knows what the future holds. I am still a young man, after all. What is forty, fifty? You still have half your life ahead of you. Best to make it full of challenges and excitement, don’t you agree, Jessica?”

Nine point five of ten.

“Very much so, Raymond, but I have had my fill of challenges and excitement for tonight. Patricia is capable of being left alone for the weekend. I certainly trust her, but I will feel better knowing she is with adults if there are problems. I appreciate your offer to let her stay here.”

“She is always welcome, as are you.”

“Thank you. We better be going before I fall asleep. It is rather late for me also, Mr. Cardoza.”

He gives Mom a forced smile. We make our goodbyes, grab our coats, walk through the foyer, out the door and get in the car.

Gretchen hugs me through the open window and waives wildly as we drive off.

We don’t say anything until well clear of the gate.

“You were right, Patricia. I can’t do this while hating him. If I strictly think of Hobbes as Gretchen’s father, I can deal with him. He’s not a bad father … he’s actually competent. And he does love her. And he wasn’t behind tonight’s attack on you.”

Mom’s sharp. “What convinced you?”

“The champagne. He was expecting you, truly glad to see you.”

“Us. He was expecting us. But you’re right, that was a dead giveaway. The other was Cardoza showing up full of innocent, concerned questions. He hasn’t tumbled to me but he wants me out of there for some reason. If we had more time, I might be able to find out what it is, but it’s too late for that. We have to move now. God! What this is going to do to Gretchen.”

She reaches over and gently rubs my arm. “I know, honey. I know. She doesn’t deserve it. I promise we’ll do what we can but our first job is to get that information. Everything else is secondary.”

Tears trickle down my cheeks. “It’s not fair. I was so darn close.”

“I know. You’ve done more than anyone else has, a remarkable job. I couldn’t be prouder, you know that, right?”

“Thanks … but it hasn’t been good enough. I’m just creating more pain and misery.”

And more nightmares.

CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT

I’m almost completely on my own. Usually, there’s a whole crew of cops watching over me when the big move goes down. Not this time. This time, it’s just me and Mom. And she’ll be parked three blocks away if I have to make a break for it. Like I could get out of this compound alive.

The whole weekend has been tough. Everybody has treated me like family, including Hobbes. They have no idea what I’m about to do and that everything is going to come tumbling down. Every friendly face I see is about to be betrayed. It’s really hard to keep playing the role when you’re constantly thinking about the future disruption of all their lives. No matter how many times I tell myself it’s just a job I can’t shake this feeling of guilt. It’s worse than it ever was when I was on the force. I don’t know if that’s because of Gretchen or my feminine side but it’s certainly true.

I pulled the trigger Friday afternoon before coming here. The fireworks start Sunday morning at 3:13 a.m. This better work.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

There’s some kind of alarm going off! I flail at my alarm clock, eventually hitting the snooze button, but it doesn’t stop. It takes a few seconds for me to realize I’ve never heard this alarm before. We’ve had fire drills, safety drills, hurricane drills and security drills before but this is new. I turn on the table lamp by my bed.

“What is THAT?” asks Patty. She sounds groggy. The left side of her face is all scrunched up, resting on her pillow while her right hand shields her only open eye from the light. She yawns wide, then wipes her face back and forth with her right hand, getting both eyes open and eventually sitting up next to me.

She’s doing better than I am, though barely. The best I can manage is propping myself up on my elbows.

“I don’t know … I’ve never heard it before today … or if I did, I’ve forgotten. God! That’s loud!”

“It’s hard to miss. Should we tell someone?”

“If they aren’t awake by now, they’re dead.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s probably best if we stay here.”

“Okay.”

We sit on the bed, looking at each other, around my room, then back to each other. After about two minutes, I’ve had enough.

“This is stupid! All I hear is the God damn alarm. No people running around, no sirens. I’m gonna find Father and find out what this is all about.”

I roll out of bed, shuffle to my closet and grab my robe.

“Wait up, I’ll go with you.”

Patty hops out of our bed and scurries to my closet. She keeps a few things in there, for emergencies and stuff, including a fluffy pink cotton robe that actually fits. As I reach for the doorknob, I’m startled by a knock on the door.

“Yes? Who is it?”

“It’s Gomez, Miss Hobbes.”

“What the hell is that alarm for?”

“It’s the big computer in the basement, something’s gone wrong. They sent me up here.”

“What for?”

“To get Patty.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, just following orders. Are you guys decent?”

“That’s a loaded question if ever I heard one. Tell him to come in and find out,” said Patty.

That sounds fun. “Why don’t you come on in and …”

Patty hits me with a pillow. “I was joking!” She pulls the cord around her waist extra tight.

“Lay on, McDuff,” she says

“Huh?”

“I’ll explain later. Let’s go.”

I open the door. Gomez reaches through and grabs Patty’s arm. “I was told to hurry.”

“If she’s going, I’m going.”

“Your father didn’t say anything about you, Miss Hobbes.”

“Did he say I couldn’t?”

“No, but …”

“Then we better hurry. Lay on, McDuff.”

“What?”

I point to Patty. “She’ll explain later. Let’s go.”

We all hurry down the hallway, the stairs to the main floor and then the set to the basement, the alarm getting louder the closer we get to the computer. It’s practically deafening when we finally get there.

Both father and Enrique are waiting, along with Escaban and Jackson. All of them are casually dressed, actually more like barely dressed. Shirt, pants and shoes, no socks.

“WHAT IS SHE DOING HERE?” father shouts over the alarm.

“I GO WHERE PATTY GOES,” I answer.

“HAS ANYONE TRIED TO TURN OFF THIS ALARM?” asks Patty.

“OF COURSE, WE AREN’T IDIOTS,” replies Enrique. “THERE ARE NO EXPOSED WIRES, NO SWITHCHES WE CAN FIND.”

Patty walks over to Tippett’s work table and picks up a long screwdriver. “MAY I?”

“PLEASE,” said father.

She walks out of the room, stands up on her tiptoes in front of the speaker and drives the screwdriver through the metal grill, wriggling it around. The sound drops down to a mild buzzing.

“Very practical, Patricia. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. What do you need from me?”

“Obviously, something has gone wrong with this infernal machine. Tippett isn’t here and, apparently, can’t connect with it from where he is, though he assured me he could do so from anywhere in the world. We have managed to contact him by phone and he is ready to give us instructions as to what to do.”

“So, what’s the problem with that?”

“None of us has any idea what he’s saying.”

“None of you?”

“That’s why I hired him. He asked who else was available and when I mentioned your name, he said that you were the best choice.”

“I don’t know, Mr. Hobbes. I really don’t want to know anything about your business. If I start messing with your servers, I might see something you wouldn’t want me to see.”

“Even the girl knows this is a mistake, Raymond,” said Enrique.

“What choice do I have, Enrique? Can you understand what Tippett wants done?”

“No, but we can get an expert here in less than an hour. Let him deal with it.”

“I’d rather you do that, Mr. Hobbes, I really would.”

“And what if the damage is done by then? No one can tell me what tripped the alarm. It may be too late already. I have everything on those machines! I need to know, NOW!”

“Alright … I’ll try. Where’s the phone?”

“I’m still calling someone else in.”

“You do that, Enrique. I have Tippett on speaker phone over here.”

The speaker box is sitting on a table next to a keyboard, mouse and monitor. The speaker squeaks. “Hey … kid.”

“Hello, Mr. Tippett.”

“Call me Zeke, kid.”

“What’s first, Zeke?”

“This shouldn’t be too difficult. All we need to do is shut everything down in a controlled way. Call up the GUI and click on the ‘Emergency Procedures’ icon in the lower right corner.”

“There’s no GUI, there’s no display at all.”

“Is it on?”

“Yes, the power light’s on … all connections good … circuit breaker good.”

“There’s a second monitor, try station two on the other side of the room.”

Patty scooted to the other set of equipment. She pushed buttons and jiggled cables then came back to the first station.

“No luck, same story.”

“What the hell is going on? Start basic, hit escape.”

She pushes the button. “Sorry, nothing.”

“Could there be a mechanical breakdown of some kind?” Father inquired.

“Not likely, Mr. Hobbes. Each station’s run by a separate CPU, separate video cards. Why would both of them stop at the same time?”

“I don’t know, Tippett, you’re the expert. And if you don’t get me some answers, right now, the best possible ending will be that you are an unemployed expert. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I know Tippett’s a sleaze but father wouldn’t fire him if he didn’t do anything wrong, would he?

The speaker’s silent for several seconds. “Yes, Sir.”

“Look,” I say, “why don’t you just unplug it?”

“You hear that sound?” said Patty. “That’s the sound of some heavy duty reading and writing going on. Even if we could pull the plug, it’d probably corrupt some data. Doesn’t matter though because the power system is heavily backed up.”

“She’s right,” said Tippett.

“How does she know that?” demanded Enrique.

The speaker’s silent again, then answers the question.

“I told her.”

“It’s not exactly a state secret. It’s SOP for any decent IT guy,” said Patty.

“SOP?”

“Standard. Operating. Procedure.”

“Then unplug it from that,” I suggest.

“Only with a pair of wire cutters,” said Tippett, “and if you get the wrong one, you get electrocuted.”

“We need to see what the servers are doing. Can I network my computer into the system?” asked Patty. “You use Unix and I use Linux.”

“With what?”

“Ethernet, USB, maybe parallel port.”

“It could work. Parallel port is pretty old school.”

“I’d need cables.”

“There’s a box of cables under the bench.”

Patty turns to father. “I need my computer. It’s in a black case next to the bed.”

Father points at Gomez. He runs off. Patty pulls several boxes from under the workbench, finally finding the one with the cables. By the time Gomez is back, she has several stretched out across the table. Gomez hands her the case. She quickly unzips it, places the computer next to one of the servers and starts to connect cables while Father paces back and forth. After double-checking everything, she switches her computer on. It’s always a little slow to boot up and it feels twice as long this time, but, eventually, her opening screen shows up. She types some stuff, switches cables, then types again. I don’t see any change.

“Sorry Mr. Tippett. No luck.”

“Dammit! Alright, kill the power. It may take six hours for it to shut down but it eventually will. I’ll catch the first plane I can to get back there.”

“Enrique, get Jacob here as quickly as possible. I’ll send the helicopter.”

“To Las Vegas? Raymond, the range of the helicopter …”

“What about a serial port?” asked Patty.

“Serial port? That’s not old school, that’s prehistoric.”

“You have a cable?”

“Maybe. It’d be in that same box.”

She dove back into the box, digging deep, pulling several out before she found the one she was looking for. She went back to swapping cables and rebooted her computer.

While she was doing that, Enrique left to turn off the power to the room. There was a brief flicker of the lights. By the time he got back, Patty was typing again. She stopped and leaned back, waiting … waiting … she slapped her hands together.

“I’m in!”

Father rushed next to her, looking at the screen over her shoulder.

“What is happening?”

“I’m not sure … it looks like it’s opening and decrypting files … see, there’s a list … and then saving the decrypted files to … right there, a separate cache. See, how that number keeps changing? That’s how much data’s in the cache.”

“How big’s the cache?” asked Tippett.

When Patty told him, there was that pause again.

“Mr. Hobbes? That’s nearly the entire size of your data base.”

“Why would this be happening?!”

“I have no idea and I won’t until I get back there and do a complete analysis. As long as that’s the only thing that’s going on then …”

“Uh-oh,” gasped Patty.

“What now?”

“It’s opening a port.”

“Awww CRAP!”

“What does all this mean?!” demanded Father.

The speaker goes silent again.

“It means,” said Patty, “that it’s getting ready to send your decrypted data somewhere.”

“WHAT? WHERE? WHEN?”

“I don’t know where but pretty soon.”

“STOP IT!”

“I can’t! All I can do is see what the server’s doing. I haven’t been able to change anything!”

“Tippett! This must be stopped now! I can’t permit my information to become public! Think of something!”

“There’s nothing I can do! The system’s shut me out! We’ve already cut off the power.”

“THAT’S IT!” screamed Patty. She hurried around to the back of the servers and unplugged several cables. She came back, the cables wrapped around her hand. “See, the server couldn’t keep the port open.”

“What stopped it?” asked Enrique.

“I disconnected the phone cable. No connection, no internet, no way to send the files. You don’t have wireless set up so the servers are isolated.”

Father smiled. “How did you think of that?”

“When Zeke said the power was cut, it reminded me that the server had to be connected to the telecommunications network and there was no backup to that.”

“So that’s it, you fixed it?”

“No sir, Mr. Hobbes. You see here,” she points to her screen, “the server failed to send the data packet so it’s starting all over; decrypting, copying and saving. When it fails again to send, it’ll repeat the cycle. You’ll end up with lots of copies of the decrypted files on your hard drives. You’ve still got a problem with your servers. It was a cheap and dirty fix of the big problem. You’ve still got to figure out who infected your system.”

“So … someone did this to me.”

“Probably. Why else would it try to send decrypted files somewhere? That’s for Mr. Tippett or other people to figure out. Right now, I’d like to get back to bed. Oh, you owe me a new computer.”

“What is wrong with yours?”

“It’s connected to your system. If you’re infected, I’m infected. Besides, when this is all finished, it’s hard drive will probably be full of your files. I doubt you’d want to take the chance on those getting out of this room even if Mr. Tippett says it’s clean. Am I wrong about that?”

“No … you’re not.”

“I’ll take an iPad 3. Goodnight.”

“Yes, goodnight ladies. Patricia?”

“Yes, Mr. Hobbes?”

“Thank you. You may have saved my business … again.”

“You’re welcome.”

Patty walks out the door and I quickly catch up to her.

“You could ask him for anything and you ask for an iPad?”

“An iPad 3. And I didn’t ask, he owes me a new computer ’cause I’ll never get that one back.”

“He owes you so big right now … we could tell him about us. He’d have to accept it!”

“He wouldn’t have to. After last weekend, I thought maybe you’d have changed your mind … about us.”

“I haven’t … not exactly. You were right, it was fun, a lot of fun. I discovered I like boys.”

“You mean … like?”

“Yeah, but I also like you just as much as before, so that means you were right about us not being …” I look around to make sure we’re alone “… lesbians.”

“Let’s save this until we get back to the bedroom.”

“Okay.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Father called a lot of the guards in Sunday morning, just to be safe. He usually gives many of them Sundays off but this computer thing has him worried. Even though Patty stopped anything bad from happening last night, he’s not taking any chances.

At breakfast, Patty asked if she could go get her computer bag, she’d forgotten about it last night and left it downstairs. Father had Henry get it for her. He was even more full of thanks than last night, now that he had time to think about what could have happened. Patty was being modest, as usual. She’s really missing an opportunity to make him pay for all she did.

After breakfast, we just hung out the rest of the day. Patty seemed kinda sad about something. I asked, but she said it was nothing, that she was fine. Except for all the excitement last night, it was a nice quiet, restful weekend, a perfect way to get ready for school starting again tomorrow.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Henry scanned my computer bag along with the rest of my stuff before I left Sunday evening. This whole security thing was a good idea at the start of my time in the house but I’d like to skip it now. For the last few months, it was mostly perfunctory, let’s hope the trend holds.

“What’s this thing, Patty?”

He’s pointing to a black rectangular image on his screen. Be calm.

“That’s a portable hard drive. It plugs into my computer to expand the storage capacity. I’ve only got a 150 gig drive in the computer and that one’s a couple terabytes.”

“Why haven’t I seen it before?”

“Because it’s stored in a pocket of the bag over the computer. The computer usually blocks it during the scan but there’s no computer in the bag this time so …”

“So now I can see it, makes sense. You’re good to go, kid.”

I breathe a mental sigh of relief. “Thanks, see ya later.”

“Yeah. Drive careful.”

I grab my backpack and bag off the conveyor belt and almost get to the door before I feel a hand on my shoulder. I freeze.

“Patricia … gotta sec?”

“Sure.”

“Let’s step outside.”

“Okay.”

He guides me out the front door, his big hand heavy on my shoulder, then closes the door behind us.

“Patricia … Lou and I’ve been talking … guys like us, we’re not supposed to know nothin’ … we’re just the muscle, but we hear things and we talk to each other cause we can’t talk to anybody else … people gotta talk or they go crazy … either way, ya see … well, Hobbes has got plans for you, big plans. He thinks you’re a special girl, a smart girl, but not just school smart but real world smart, even street smart. He also thinks you got a head for business.”

“What do you and Lou think?”

“Oh, he’s right, no doubt about it. After what happened overnight …”

“What do you know about that? Neither of you were there.”

“Told ya, the guards talk. We know a lot more than people suspect. The thing is … Lou and I think you need to be careful. Guys like us, we don’t have a lot of options. Mr. Hobbes treats us real fair and all, but we’re not stupid, we know how he makes his money. You’re not stupid either, you know too. For Lou and I … we’re gonna be working for people like Hobbes. There’s not many people in this business who are better than him and there are lots who are worse, much worse. You … you got lots of options, you got lots of potential, you could work for anybody, you could do anything. Working for Hobbes may seem like the easy way to make a bunch of money fast, but it may not be the right thing for you.”

“I’m still in high school, it’s not like he’s gonna offer me an executive position.”

“He’s paying for your college expenses.”

“How do you know …” Henry smiles down at me. “Okay, you know stuff.”

“He pays for you to go to college. When you graduate, you feel like you owe him. That’s when he makes the offer. You’re young, got your whole life ahead of you. In the long run, it’s better to be on the right side of the law. Take the advice of a couple of old guys who’ve made a lot of mistakes over the years.”

“Okay, say I don’t go with Hobbes. What happens to Gretchen?”

“Maybe you take her with you.”

“Why would I take Gretchen with …” he smiles again. “No way!”

“My sister’s gay. I’ve seen her with her ‘best friend’.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Maybe not, doesn’t matter to me. If it matters to you, you’ll think of something. Look, I can’t tell you how to live your life, that’s your call. All I can say is that … you’re better than all this, you can make a difference. Do what’s right, even if it’s hard.”

“Why don’t you and Lou follow your own advice?”

“It’s too late for us, kid. Too much water under the bridge, too many mistakes.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s never too late.”

“That’s what I love about you, kid; you never say die. I hope you know better than to mention this conversation to Hobbes.”

“What conversation?”

“You go on home now, be careful on that death trap you ride. Say ‘Hi’ to your mom from us, she’s a good lady.”

“I will, Henry.”

I trot down the steps to my bike, slip my arms through the straps of my backpack, strap my bag to the rack on the bike, slip my helmet on, straddle the bike and look back up at Henry. He’s still standing by the door.

“I believe in second chances, Henry, there’s always a way, you just have to look hard enough.”

“You keep thinking that, kid.”

I step down on the starter, fire the engine, gun it a few times and roar off towards the gate, tears in my eyes. It would have been better if he had punched me in the face.

CHAPTER FIFTY NINE

Patricia insisted on reviewing the entire hard drive as soon as she got home. She didn’t want to tell me anything until she had. Both of us were feeling depressed. She had accomplished the impossible but it felt more like failure.

Patty pushed her setting as far into the Pink as she could tolerate, it sped up the processing of the data. She sat in her chair in front of the monitor, as still as a statue, while images flashed on her screen so quickly I could barely see them. Most appeared to be documents of one kind or another; letters, spread sheets, emails and text messages. There was the occasional flash of a picture and, rarely, a video.

I had promised that I would check on her at least once every fifteen minutes to make sure she was okay, but, ultimately, I couldn’t leave her room. I nodded off at least four times, at first briefly but the last was for half an hour. When I woke up, she was still sitting in her chair but the screen was blank. I carefully approached her and slowly reached out with my hand to shake her shoulder when she stopped me by speaking one word.

“Processing.”

I went downstairs to make some coffee, pouring it into a thermos bottle. When I returned, Patricia was as I left her. After filling the lid of the thermos with coffee, I settled back to wait.

The coffee did help for a while, but I eventually fell asleep again, this time for more than an hour. When I awoke, there were two hard drives on the desk in front of her.

“What are those for?”

She turned to look at me, her head tipped slightly to the side.

“The first copy is to be sent by mail to the North Cabana safe house. It should go out tomorrow. The second copy is to be hidden in this house.”

“Why hide the second one?”

“In case we are forced to reveal the existence of a copy, we give up the one in the house.”

Clever, very clever. There’s probably a third copy she hasn’t told me about, and I don’t want to know.

“What have you found out?”

“I am still processing. We appear to have copies of all his files, if not all, then the large majority. More than enough for Daniel to put an end to Hobbes’ operation and destroy Gretchen’s life, along with several others. I am still working on a way to avoid this but have been unable to come up with a viable plan, so far.”

“Honey, there’s no way to prevent it. Some problems can’t be avoided. I’m sorry about what this will do to Gretchen. I like her, I truly do but not enough to let Hobbes continue to break the law, destroy people’s lives with drugs.”

“You do realize that people will continue to destroy their lives with drugs whether Hobbes sells them or someone else does.”

“That is not justification for doing nothing and you know it!”

“I do. Processing completed.”

She reaches over to the Remote sitting on her desk and adjusts the setting. She had been sitting erect and still but now she relaxes, loosens up, even slouches a bit.

“That is so weird! This whole thing is weird but working up there … mega-weird.”

“What was your setting?”

“Forty six Pink.”

“My goodness!”

“I was barely hanging on but the digital part really hums along up there.”

“So … you know his entire operation now?”

“More like it’s indexed in my head. I couldn’t tell you every single word on each document just sitting here, but if you give me a moment or two, I can call a document up and read it. I did keep an eye out for certain information during the scan. You might find this interesting. The men who killed Robert and Alisha are dead, have been almost from the start. Hobbes didn’t want them talking but he couldn’t reward their incompetence either so he pulled some strings to get them released, smuggled them out of the country and killed them in transit, or I should say Cardoza did it under Hobbes direction. He was very upset about the whole thing. Cardoza was against it but this was one of the few times he didn’t get his way. Hobbes insisted.”

That explains why I couldn’t find them anywhere.

“Thanks, I’m happy to know that … very happy, in fact. Why tell me now?”

“I just discovered it, thought you ought to know.”

“You’re right, but are you sure you didn’t tell me to try and change my mind about Hobbes, because it won’t.”

“That’s your business. They weren’t Hobbes’ people; he just supplied them the drugs they sold. It’s kinda like blaming Budweiser for drunk driving.”

“Not exactly. Beer is legal; heroin, meth and cocaine aren’t.”

“Then it’s like blaming Hobbes for all the people killed by the Zeta cartel.”

“He is, he’s in the business of selling illegal drugs, they’re all responsible!”

“If you really believe that then you’ll never find any peace, no closure. There will always be another person alive who has to pay for your pain. Why stop with Hobbes? There’s the Tijuana cartel, the Zetas, the Potosis. Who’s next? What young girl do I have to befriend and betray this time?”

She’s starting to cry. This has been extremely hard on Patricia. What started out as a potential six-week assignment has stretched into months of daily tension and stress … for both of us. The end is now in sight.

When I said I blamed all drug dealers for the deaths of my husband and daughter … it felt a little hollow. Am I that kind of ideologue? Can I do this for the rest of my life? Can I single-handedly bring an end to illegal drugs?

No … I can’t … and I won’t. I’m done. We’re done.

I hold my arms open and Patricia walks into my waiting hug, her arms around my waist as I lay my head on top of hers.

“It’s alright, honey. It’s alright,” I say, soothingly.

“I hate it when we fight,” she sniffs.

“Doesn’t stop us from fighting though, does it?”

“What choice do I have when I’m right and you’re wrong?”

“I see your dilemma. When this is all over, what do you say we both go on a little vacation, just you and I. A week, a month, whatever. Daniel should be able to afford it and we’ve certainly earned it.”

“Who gets to go on this vacation? Patricia Connor … or Peter Harris?”

Damn it! There I go again, forgetting what Patricia is, who she is. This is just too hard, too much.

“Who’d you like to go?”

“I know what I need to do … I know what I should do … and I know what I want to do.”

“Care to explain that?”

“I need to put an end to this, go back to my body, go back to who I am. It’s the right thing to do, legally speaking.”

“How much of what we did was legal?”

She hugs me tighter. “Not much, but I also owe my friends at school, my teammates, the sisters, everyone. It’s not like the place will fall apart without me, but I made commitments. I should live up to them. That’s what I should do.”

“And what do you want to do?”

“That vacation sounded awful nice. What harm would a couple of weeks, more or less, do? We get some rest, I come back here, switch and we move on our separate ways.”

“Is that really what you want, to go back to the way you were, to give up all this?”

“This isn’t mine to give up, Mother. It never was. I borrowed this body to do a job and now, the job is over.”

“So Patricia belongs to Thomas? Is that what you’re saying? She’s a slave of some kind?”

“I don’t know what she is, or what I am for that matter. Jenny Jo’s memories are still in my head. If I leave, maybe she can get stronger, take back what is hers. We can tell Thomas, insist that he not try to wipe her out.”

“He won’t be happy about that.”

“Who knows for sure? Maybe Lipscomb will blackmail him into it. Which reminds me, when do we tell Lipscomb what we’ve got for him?”

Another hard question. “Are you certain you got what you went after?”

“I got all I’m gonna get.” She picks up the original hard drive. “I’m never getting another chance like that one.”

“Then I’ll contact him tomorrow, the usual way. It may take several days to arrange a meeting.”

“I’ll be happy when those are over. For some reason, he makes me nervous. I just don’t trust him. It makes no sense, other than he’s a lawyer, of course.”

“Of course.”

“He didn’t tell us about the raids, but he may not have known. Whatever it is, I see him and I want to run away.”

“What do we do in the meantime?”

“We stick to the plan. I go back to school on Monday, you go back to work. Everything normal.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Daniel got back to me in less than two hours, a new record, which wasn’t surprising. He’s been waiting for this as long as I have. He insisted on a late night meeting, after 10:00 p.m., at Thomas’ lab on Monday.

Patricia and I arrived at 10:15. She was dawdling, as usual. I decided no to push her, best to leave well enough alone. Daniel was pacing the room when we entered.

“Where is it?” he demanded as soon as he spotted us.

Patricia walked across the room, dropped her purse on the on the desk, unzipped it, removed the portable hard drive and lightly tossed it toward Daniel. He lunged forward, both hands extended. Catching the lazily spinning device and clutching it to his chest, he said nothing but scowled at Patty, who was ignoring him. She sat down at the table and I sat next to her. Thomas wasn’t in the room, though I heard activity elsewhere in the building. Maybe he was preparing to return Peter Harris to his body. It wasn’t something I wanted to think about.

“This is it?” Daniel asked.

“Yep,” Patricia replied.

“What’s on it?”

“Everything you’re gonna get.”

“What does that mean?”

“What Patricia means, Daniel, is that we are finished. If that is not enough, then you are out of luck. However, from what I’ve been told, that should be more than adequate,” I said.

“If you can ever get it into court,” Patricia added. “Which I seriously doubt.”

“Let me worry about that,” said Daniel. “I am the lawyer here.”

“Well, I’ve been doing a little research on that subject and I think you’re totally screwed.”

“You thought the same with that spreadsheet.”

“And it nearly got us killed. Not a good argument for your expertise, counselor.”

“Hilarious. How did you get it?”

“What does it matter?”

“I’d think you’d know the answer to that, after all your research.”

“Patricia … tell him. He needs to know and you deserve the credit. It was absolutely incredible, Daniel. Pure genius!”

“Since the first bit of information was blind luck and I’ve had nothing for months, my expectations are low.”

“Drop dead, Lipscomb.”

“Just tell him, Patricia. We’re done either way.”

“Fine. When I first went to Hobbes’ house, he insisted that his tech guy, Tippett, set up my laptop to work with the household network, so Gretchen and I could access the Internet for homework and stuff. Tippett took the opportunity to install some spyware on the machine, which I discovered.”

“I thought you didn’t know much about computers.”

“I didn’t but now I do. Learning new things is a piece of cake. The stuff I know now is amazing! Anyway, I found out what he did so I decided to turn the tables. Hobbes’ business system is all wired; he didn’t want wireless access, afraid of data being intercepted or creating security breaches. You don’t need a search warrant to intercept radio signals but you do need one to tap a data line … and he’d know it if any Judge signed a warrant, probably before the police knew it.”

“You’re right about that. Go on.”

“I couldn’t access his business network when I was at his house, just the separate home network. I might be able to physically tap into it, but Tippett might be able to know it if I did. So I set a Honey Trap.”

“What was the bait?”

“Racy pictures of me.”

“Naked?”

“NO! What do you think I am?”

“I’ll answer that later. Go on.”

“I set up an email account for a fake boyfriend then sent emails with photos attached. As soon as Tippett started snooping around on my computer, he went straight to those photos, downloading them onto Hobbes’ business system. That gave me a way in. I kept sending emails with more explicit photos attached but each picture had additional hidden data buried in the file. It wasn’t a complete program or a worm, just parts. The pieces were small enough to not trip an antivirus scan but, when downloaded in the right sequence, the separate pieces formed a hidden worm on Hobbes’ system. The worm had a timer built into it. At a certain time each day, it would assemble, send an email, wait thirty minutes for a response, then disassemble. If it didn’t get a response, it repeated the cycle. Part of Hobbes’ security was hiding legitimate encrypted emails among a bunch of junk encrypted emails, the ratio was like a thousand to one. My worm sent its email along with all those others and the response it was looking for was just the acknowledgement that the email had been opened, a feature Hobbes had on all his emails.”

“Impressive, you were hiding in all the traffic he expected to see.”

“Exactly. All I had to do was wait until I was ready, open the email and trigger the worm.”

“And exactly why did it take so long to do that?”

“I had to wait until I was at the house and Tippett wasn’t. The worm was designed to make its presence known. I could have tried to do it quietly but there was no guarantee the constantly updated antivirus program wouldn’t detect or stop it. When the worm was triggered, it counted down from the time of the response, reassembled, disabled all input devices and the video output, except for the serial port, plus all other programs except the decryption program, the file copying feature and the broadband modem. It was designed to take each encrypted file, decrypt it, save it in a folder and, once all the files were in the folder, to send the files to a remote location.”

“Where you were waiting for them.”

“No. That was the weak link. Everything in Hobbes’ system had backups, some of which, like the power, I was counting on. There was no backup to the broadband phone line. He refused to use wireless. I had to get my computer into his system in order to access the folder with the decrypted files. When Hobbes’ system went crazy and Tippett wasn’t around to fix it and his remote access was disabled by the worm, they called on me to help. After a few failed attempts to patch into the system, I pulled out a dusty serial cable and got in, as planned. I still couldn’t do any input but I could monitor the decryption and copying process. Just as the worm was ready to send the files, I pulled the plug on the broadband.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Because my computer was in the system now. Without the broadband, the worm would keep making decrypted copies of his files, filing a folder, then repeat … including writing to the hard drive on my computer.”

“Surely Hobbes wouldn’t be so stupid as to let you have your computer back. He had to know that it might contain his data.”

“He did and I didn’t get my laptop back … but just because he refused to use Wi-Fi didn’t keep me from using it.”

“Say what?”

“My computer had Wi-Fi built into it and that hard drive in your hand has a Wi-Fi hub installed. The hard drive and a battery pack were in my computer bag, which was in the same room with the laptop. Once the emergency was over, all that had to happen was to let Hobbes’ servers stay operating on emergency power, my laptop stay connected and it transmits the decrypted files to that portable hard drive, slowly but surely. I picked up my bag the next morning and rode away with his data.”

Daniel turns the hard drive over in his hand. “This thing holds all Hobbes’ data?”

“Several copies actually. It’s two terabytes. Spreadsheets, letters, emails and text messages don’t take up much storage space, pictures just a little more. Hobbes had way more storage than he needed.”

“Why go through all that trouble? Just let your worm send the files across the country.”

“Because someone could have gotten smart and done what I did. They weren’t going to stop the system from making the clean copies, not unless they were willing to destroy it, but someone who knew basically nothing about computers could have kept it from sending the files, just unplug the phone line. If they never called me downstairs, if they didn’t figure out a way to cut off the broadband, I still had control of the address where the files would have been sent, but the safer bet was what happened. This way, Hobbes doesn’t know his data has been stolen, he thinks he’s safe. This was the only way to do it and the only time.”

“And why it’s not happening again,” I said.

Daniel slowly nods his head. “I understand. Remarkable … truly remarkable. One for the textbooks, that’s for sure. I’ll need to double check this hard drive, make sure it has what you say it does.”

“Don’t erase anything, it’s the only copy.”

“You didn’t make a duplicate?”

I glance at Patricia but she doesn’t react. “Why would we?” she asks. “You’ve got it, it’s you’re problem now but, you screw it up and I’m kicking your ass.”

“We both will,” I add.

“Who do you plan to show this to?” asks Patricia.

“No one, at least not right away.”

“Good, because as soon as you decide to, I want to know in advance. No excuses. In advance. Once that hard drive leaves your hands, I’m assuming Hobbes will know everything and we’re gone.”

“Where?”

“We’ll leave a number if you need either of us. Wherever it is, it’ll be for a month and on your dime. When we get back, Matthews can put me back in my body. You got a problem with any of that?”

“No, sounds fair. Wish I could go with you. I want everyone back here in three days, Thursday, same time. That should give me time to review the files. If everything checks out, we move on to the next phase.”

Patricia just looks at Daniel for a few seconds, nibbling at her lower lip, then she grabs her purse, zips it shut and stands up.

“Alright. Let’s go, Mom.”

She quickly moves toward the exit and I scramble to follow. I catch up to her on the sidewalk outside of Thomas’ office. She was waiting for me.

“That was easier than it should have been, Mom.”

“Perhaps Daniel is just appreciative of what you’ve accomplished.”

“Maybe.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

The next three days were uneventful. Patricia returned to school to start the spring semester. Obviously, she wasn’t going to be there after a few more days but there was no reason to raise any questions at this point, particularly from Gretchen right after the computer incident. Easy and steady are the watch words for now.

I am worried about Patricia though. It’s clear that she’s unhappy and there’s little I can do to change her attitude. I tried to discuss the details of our pending vacation but she just deferred to me.

“Whatever you want is fine by me” was as much as I could get out of her.

Apparently, Gretchen couldn’t stop talking about the New Year’s party at the Y, which I thought would make her happy since her plan had worked so well, except for almost getting killed of course. No such luck. I’d say Patricia was just now facing the loss of the life she had grown used to over the last few months. The loss of her friends, her status at school, her health … and her abilities.

I’ve only experienced it second hand but what Patricia is capable of is astounding. Her ability to acquire and use knowledge, her physical capabilities, her resourcefulness in the face of adversity, all are things that the average person could only dream about. When he is transferred back to his body, Peter Harris will likely retain some of the knowledge acquired while in Patricia’s body but he’ll lose most everything else, he’ll be … normal. I can only imagine what it would be like to be given these almost super-human powers and then have them taken away, particularly in this case where Peter’s own body is so limited due to illness. That kind of loss could certainly be depressing.

Despite my best efforts, Patricia is still out of sorts when we arrive for Thursday’s meeting, her normal trepidation before seeing Daniel only adding to the problem. We’re the first to arrive. Thomas had actually brought a bottle of champagne to celebrate the end of the mission. We decided to wait for Daniel to arrive before opening it.

It’s 10:15 when he finally shows up, coming in the backdoor, carrying his briefcase, which he sets on the table in front of him but he doesn’t sit down.

“I apologize for being late, I had some preparations to make before tonight’s meeting.”

“I assume you’re satisfied with the hard drive,” said Patricia.

“Absolutely. It’s everything I had dared to hope for, even more to be honest.”

“So, when exactly does the next phase begin?”

He opens his briefcase, reaching down into it with both hands. “Tonight. Right now.” He bends down, fiddling with something in the briefcase, then stands up. “Patricia, go out to my car and sit in the back seat.”

I look over at Patricia. She appears confused for a second or two, then smiles ever so slightly and stands.

“Yes Mr. Lipscomb, I’d be happy to.”

“I’m parked out back. It’s the blue Chevy Impala. Leave the back door of the office unlocked as you go.”

“Yes, Mr. Lipscomb,” she answers, that same minimal smile on her face. She turns and walks right out of the room and down the hall towards the back door.

Thomas and I stare at each other. He looks as perplexed as I feel.

“Daniel, what is this about?” I demand.

He removes a Balancer Remote Control from his briefcase with his left hand, placing it on the table next to him. Its setting is Pink Fifty!

“DANIEL! What in heaven’s name are you …” I barely get the sentence out of my mouth when he brings his right hand up out of the briefcase. It’s holding a large handgun. He points it at Thomas, who’s still sitting in his chair. He pulls the trigger. The room is full of an unbelievably loud explosion, my ears ringing as I reflexively shut my eyes and turn away. When I open them, I see Thomas on the ground, on his back, still sitting in the chair which has fallen backwards, a large and rapidly growing bright red stain on the front of his white lab coat.

I jerk my head towards Daniel and focus on the barrel of the gun pointing right at my head from six feet away.

“Sorry, Jessica,” he says.

I try to push away from the table and run towards the front door but only manage to turn my head away from the barrel pointing at it before I simultaneously hear the gunfire and feel an overwhelming searing pain in my head.

Then nothing.

CHAPTER SIXTY

I’m half way down the hall before I’m aware of what’s happened. Somehow, that bastard Lipscomb’s managed to change my setting to Pink Fifty! I’ve always been afraid of somehow, someone other than Mom or myself getting hold of that controller, even by accident, and messing with my head. Lately, it hasn’t made a whole lot of difference what the setting is, I don’t notice any big changes I can’t handle except at the high Pink numbers. Just as before, at Pink Fifty, I’m pretty much just along for the ride. Patricia does what her programming tells her to do, of which one thing is obey direct orders.

I try to stop walking towards the car but can’t even slow her down. Sitting in the back seat, seatbelt locked, hands folded in my lap and ankles crossed like a proper little girl, I hear the first gun shot.

Crap! Time to go! Come on! Go! Move! MOVE!

Nothing. I don’t even flinch at the second shot, don’t even turn my head towards the back door until I see Lipscomb out of the corner of my eye, hurrying along the broken concrete sidewalk.

“Can I help you, Mr. Lipscomb?”

WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO, LIPSCOMB, YOU PRICK?! ANSWER ME! DID YOU SHOOT MOM?!

He opens the car door. “No thanks, Patricia.” He tosses the briefcase into the passenger seat, slides in, starts the car and quickly pulls forward, through the alley and into the street.

“Where are we going, Mr. Lipscomb?”

He glances back at me, then returns his attention to the road. “You’re a real chatter box, even at this setting. I wasn’t expecting that. Let’s try this. Patricia, don’t say anything unless I either tell you to or I ask you a direct question. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mr. Lipscomb.”

“Good. Is Peter Harris in there with you?”

“Yes, Mr. Lipscomb, he is.”

“Is he aware of what’s going on?”

“Somewhat, as I am not fully aware of what is going on.”

He chuckles. “Good answer. You’d make a hell of a witness, Patricia. To answer your last question, we’re going to your home to pick up a few things then to visit Mr. Hobbes.” He looks at me through the rear view mirror. “Think about that one for a minute or two … Peter.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I wake up coughing, my head screaming in pain. Instantly, I feel the heat all around me. I force my eyes open but can’t see anything, there’s something in front of my eyes. I move my hand, the skin tingling in the heat and reach for whatever is blocking my vision. It’s my hair, covered in some, wet, sticky goo. I pull my hair away from my face and see an inferno.

I’m lying on the floor of Thomas’ office, flames and smoke swirling all around me! There’s the smells of numerous chemicals burning … boiling … bubbling … STAY AWAKE! DON’T PASS OUT! I push up off the floor just a little, to get my bearings. I remember from a story I once read to Alisha that the safest place in a fire is near the floor, so I keep my head low and look around.

Not ten feet to my left is Thomas, still on his back, still in the chair, just as I last saw him, his clothes ablaze. He’s not moving, not making a sound, so he must be dead. Rest in peace.

There appears to be more fire towards the front of the room than the back so I start to crawl on my hands and knees toward the back door as quickly as my aching head allows. Just as I reach the door to the hallway, there’s a small explosion of some kind that knocks me flat, hot gasses rushing past me, as I hold my breath. Pulling myself forward on my stomach, I slowly clear the doorway, roll onto my back and kick the door shut, dropping onto my back, breathing heavily, searching for oxygen in the foul air around me.

This area’s on fire also, but it’s not as intense. Getting back up on my hands and knees, I head for the back door. As I pass Thomas’ lab, I can see that the bed holding Peter Harris is already engulfed in flames, the smell of burning flesh is nauseating. I manage for the moment not to vomit but I do get dizzy and start to black out again

MOVE GOD DAMN IT OR YOU”LL BE NEXT! HE’S TAKEN PATRICIA! THE BASTARD’S GOT YOUR DAUGHTER! MOVE! NOW!

I shake my head, the pain helping to keep me conscious. Once I reach the back door, I wrap my left hand in the front of my shirt and reach up into the super heated air to turn the handle. In seconds I discover two things. The door is locked and I’ve just seriously burned my hand. Slumped against the door and gasping for air, I’m out of ideas, there’s no way out, nothing to use to pry the door open even if I had two good hands.

I’m sorry Patty, I tried. I really did.

DON’T GIVE UP ON ME, MOM! NOT NOW! YOU’RE SO CLOSE! IT’S JUST A WOODEN DOOR. KICK IT DOWN. IF YOU’RE GONNA DIE, GO DOWN FIGHTING!

That’s what she’d do, she’d go down fighting. Rolling onto my back and spinning around, I drive my feet into the bottom panel of the door. Nothing. Again. Again. Again! AGAIN!

IT CRACKS! AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN!AGAIN!AGAIN!

The bottom panel flies out, cold air rushes in, feeding the flames. I scramble to the door and crawl through the hole, gulping the oxygen rich air even as I feel the flames growing behind me. With a lunge, I pull myself free and tumble down the short set of concrete steps. When I hit the ground, I keep rolling away from the house until I hit something.

It’s his back fence. I push myself to my knees, then pull myself to my feet with my right hand, using the fence for support. My head spinning and throbbing, my body shaking, my lungs dried to a crisp, I remember what Patricia told me at the very start.

If everything goes to hell, you run to 1105 North Cabana Boulevard. Tell them Peter Harris sent you.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

She told him where the first copy of the hard drive was. Then she told him about the second copy, the one I didn’t even tell Mom about. How does she know this stuff? It’s like there’s this other version of me who’s got access to my entire life but doesn’t care what I think. No matter what I said, she did exactly what Lipscomb told her to do. I don’t even know if she can hear me, though, last time, she knew what I was thinking. Maybe not this time.

“Are there anymore copies, anywhere, Patricia?”

No. Not Randi’s Place. You can’t tell him about Randi’s Place. She’s got nothing to do with this. That’s our ace in the hole, you have to keep that secret, you can’t …

“No, Mr. Lipscomb, none that I’m aware of.”

WHAT? Oohhhh, she lied! She stared him in the face and LIED! That’s my girl! There’s hope! Why now? What’s different? Nothing but the truth up to now and then, bang, a whopper. Lipscomb didn’t even blink, just took it for the gospel truth and moved on.

He went through my room, with Patricia’s help, looking for anything that would reveal the operation but I’m not that stupid and she told him so … politely. Always politely. That has to be Mom’s programming.

God, what happened back at Matthews’ office? Two shots, two people. If I find out that he killed them, there is nothing on earth that will stop me from killing him. I can’t do anything right now but somehow, somewhere, he’s gonna screw up and give me my chance … when he does …

We’re back in the car, headed for Hobbes’. It’s got to be almost midnight. He’s in bed by now and hates to get up unless it’s an emergency. What exactly does Lipscomb plan to do? No way is he going in to try to arrest Hobbes, he’s playing this hand solo. It’s almost got to be blackmail, the only thing that makes any sense.

He’s driving in silence, not asking any questions and I can’t … not yet. I keep pushing Patricia to ask about the gunshots but she says nothing.

As we pull up to the gate, Lipscomb looks back at me.

“Tell them that I am your uncle, Daniel, your mother’s brother, that something terrible has happened to your mother and that you need to see Mr. Hobbes, immediately. Got that?”

“Has something terrible happened to my mother?”

“I told you, no questions.”

“I am not supposed to lie. You are asking me to lie.”

“You are supposed to follow my orders and I am ordering you to tell them what I told you to tell them, lie or not.”

“I understand … Uncle Daniel.”

When the guard answers the buzz, Patricia says exactly what she was told to say, in a flat, emotionless voice. It takes a few moments for us to be buzzed in, but they do it. I’m not surprised. Lipscomb is using me as his gate pass. I can’t think of anyone else other than Gretchen or Cardoza who could get Hobbes up at this hour. The guard on duty quickly ushers us in after a brief body scan. Hobbes is waiting in his office. As we enter, Hobbes stands.

“Patricia, what is wrong? What has happened to your mother?”

“You’ll have to ask Uncle Daniel. He won’t tell me what he did to her.”

That’s right, stick it to him. Hobbes is confused.

“What are you talking about?”

“Patricia, have a seat over there in the corner. Remember, nothing unless I ask or tell you, understood?”

“Yes, Uncle Daniel.” She walks over and takes a seat. I can see both Hobbes and Lipscomb. The guard was dismissed by Hobbes.

“We have not met. You are Patricia’s uncle? I have never heard her mention you before.”

“That’s because I’m not her uncle. I’m Daniel Lipscomb, Assistant Federal District Attorney for the Southern District of Florida.”

“So this story about harm to Jessica Conner is a ruse of some kind to get to see me at this ungodly hour?”

“Not exactly. She is dead. I shot her myself this evening, though you’re likely to get the blame.”

OH GOD! He will suffer before I’m done with him! I don’t care what happens to me, you are a dead man!

Hobbes looks over at me, Patricia appearing as calm as a lake at midnight, then back to Lipscomb.

“Are you a madman?!”

Lipscomb slips a CD from the pocket of his Armani suit coat. “No, a businessman, just as yourself. If you review the first few documents on that disc, you’ll likely figure out what I’m here to sell.”

Hobbes warily sits down, starts his computer, inserts the disk and calls up the first file. He can’t hide the surprise at what he sees, nor can he hide his growing anger as he reviews each successive file. After about ten minutes, he reaches over and grabs the phone on his desk. He pushes the code for the security office, I recognize the sound of the beeps.

“Wake Enrique and have him come over to the office immediately … yes, it is an emergency.”

He hangs up and returns to reviewing the documents. Enrique shows up six minutes and twenty-seven seconds later. I counted.

“What is going on?”

Hobbes extends his hand towards Lipscomb. “This man claims to be Daniel Lipscomb, Assistant Federal District Attorney. He brought me a CD with these documents on it. Come Enrique, take a look at what Mr. Lipscomb brought us.”

Enrique stares at me with barely concealed hatred. “What is she doing here?”

“That is yet to be determined. Have a look, Enrique.”

He joins Hobbes on the other side of the desk and begins to review the same documents, his astonishment growing just as Hobbes’ anger did. You have to hand it to Hobbes, he is almost always in control of his emotions. He may show it, but he doesn’t act, at least not right away.

“How did you get these?” Cardoza demanded.

Lipscomb had sat down while they were reviewing the documents. Now, he sat back and crossed his legs.

“I put together a small, secret, team of experts to infiltrate your organization. I’ve had an agent inside for several months. Last week, it brought me those documents, along with tens of thousands of others. I have in my possession the entire contents of your servers and, therefore, every piece of information anyone would want about your organization. I know all about your tunnels, your factories, your shipping schedules, your farms, your landing sites, your submarine base, who you’ve bribed, where you keep all the cash you receive before sending it to be laundered. In short, I know everything about your organization, down to the birthday of the pool boy, which is July 12th by the way.”

First Cardoza, then Hobbes turns to look my way, Cardoza with rage and Hobbes with … sadness?

“Yes,” continued Lipscomb, “the agent is Ms. Conner here, though you shouldn’t blame yourselves, gentlemen. Patricia Conner is an amazing combination of technology and human experience. It is so far beyond your imagination, that it went undetected is hardly your fault. It would have fooled anyone.”

“You keep saying ‘it’, she is a girl, no?” asked Cardoza.

“Yes, it is a girl, but not just a girl. Inside that body is stored the mind of one of the most experienced undercover operatives in the Eastern United States, possibly the entire country. Meet Peter Harris. I suggest that, if you have a gun, you point it at Mr. Harris right now and that you shoot him should he move even a fraction of an inch.”

Cardoza pulled a large drawer open and removed a sawed off pump shotgun, aiming it directly at me. So much for my chance. Lipscomb removed the Remote from the other suit pocket.

“This unit controls who is in charge of the body. Right now, it is set on Pink Fifty. That means that a computer program is in charge. A program that must obey and do whatever I tell it to do. Patricia, remove your blouse.”

I knew that some day it would come to this. I warned Lipscomb what would happen if he tried to pull this kind of stunt. Patricia begins to unbutton her blouse, but her fingers are trembling, I can feel the hesitation. She stays seated but still manages to eventually take off the blouse and drop it on the floor next to her. I feel something coming from her … embarrassment?

“Very Good Patricia. Now, remove your bra.”

Cardoza’s enjoying this but Hobbes looks sick. Patricia reaches for the clasp in the front of the bra, even more reluctantly than before. Just as she releases it, Hobbes reacts.

“Enough! You’ve made your point!”

Lipscomb looks surprised. “Really? I had more planned. As you wish. That’s enough, Patricia.”

She quickly re-latches the bra. “Yes, Uncle Daniel.”

“You can stop the Uncle Daniel now, Patricia. As I was saying, Pink Fifty you get sweet, courteous, compliant Patricia but at Blue Fifty, you get … ready with that shotgun, Enrique.”

My control comes flooding back. I slowly reach down, pick up the blouse and put it back on, deliberately glaring at Lipscomb as I redo each button.

“I warned you about things like that, Danny boy.”

He frowns at the “Danny”. Tough shit.

“Is that all you have to say, Peter?”

“What else do I need to say? I heard what you did to Jessica, to Thomas.”

“And to you. I set the lab to burn after we left. I’d say your old body is quite well done by now.”

So … I’m stuck, forever. Unfortunately, forever for me is probably measured in hours. The bastard wants to see me panic. Like hell.

“That all you got, little Danny? You betray your people, your job, your oath. If you weren’t a lawyer, I’d be disappointed.”

“What? No threats, no bluster?”

“I don’t need to threaten, you already know what’s gonna happen when I get my hands on you. And you KNOW I will get my hands on you, don’t cha’… Danny?”

“You should have expected this, Peter. You’re the expert in betrayal.”

“Oh I’ve become an expert in so many other areas in the last few months, Danny Bo …” He abruptly twists the control back to Pink Fifty almost causing me to pass out. He turns his back to me.

“That’s why Patricia is an IT. It’s not a human being any more, just a combination of body parts and silicon, slapped together by a mad scientist.”

“An interesting display, Danny. What do you want?” sneered Hobbes. He doesn’t miss much.

“I prefer Daniel, and what I want is fifty million in uncut diamonds, annually, beginning tonight plus access to your network of bribed officials. With money and the right contacts, my future is assured.”

Oh your future is assured alright.

“And if I don’t comply? You can hardly take that information to your superiors. If I understand your conversation with … Peter Harris was it, you have burned a few bridges tonight.”

“True, the information would never be admissible in a court trial but I think the Zetas cartel would find it very interesting reading, as would the Tijuana cartel and a number of the other struggling cartels trying to make a name for themselves. Any or all of them could cause you extreme trouble, resulting in losses in the billions of dollars. I would think that fifty million a year would be relatively inexpensive insurance. You grossed over eight point seven billion last year alone.”

“Yes, grossed, but I have expenses. If you’ve reviewed those files you know my expenses. They are getting higher every day. As for fifty million dollars, that is out of the question.”

“Raymond, the number is nonnegotiable. Yes, I know your expenses, I also know you have over one hundred million in uncut diamonds in a warehouse less than an hour from this house. Very smart method to launder money, by the way. Untraceable, holds their value, easy to transport, easy to store. Much simpler to deal with than thousands of stacks of old one hundred dollar bills.”

“More like tens of thousands of stacks of old twenty dollar bills,” said Cardoza. “I assume you have taken the usual precautions to prevent me from killing you right now, Mr. Lipscomb?”

“Of course, multiple copies of the hard drive data in the hands of people unrelated to me who will deliver them to your competitors if they do not hear from me …” he looks at his watch “ … shortly and then daily, thereafter.”

“I thought as much. If you would take Ms. Conner with you and wait outside, I would like to speak with Mr. Hobbes in private.”

“Certainly. Patricia, come with me.”

“Yes, Mr. Lipscomb.” Patricia stands and walks out behind him. I noticed that Cardoza’s hand never strayed from the shotgun and Hobbes couldn’t take his eyes off me. He seemed as tired as I had ever seen him. After the door shut, Lipscomb took a seat near the door but had me kneel at his feet.

“I know you can hear me, Peter. I had planned on keeping you for myself, as a subservient playmate. It would have been difficult for you at first but I’m sure you would have grown to enjoy it.”

Good God, what an ego!

“Unfortunately, you were correct in there, you have become an expert in a number of areas I had not initially planned on. Thanks to Matthews’ idiotic idea to pump you full of information about all forms of self-defense, you are much too dangerous to keep around. If there were some way to accelerate your willing acceptance of your position, things might be different but I’m not going to take that chance. Besides, at fifty million a year, for starters, I can afford to buy whatever companion I desire without the obvious risks you present. Too bad, you would have enjoyed it.”

I’m gonna enjoy it when I get my hands on your throat and rip out your larynx. If I could just get control of my body for a few minutes, I’d get out of here. Over the months, I’ve found every weakness in Hobbes’ security system and there are a few holes. Not many, but they exist. In theory. I’ve never actually tested them. Not likely to get the chance. The door to Hobbes’ office swings open, Cardoza standing in the doorway.

“Come back in.”

“You first, Patricia.”

“Yes, Mr. Lipscomb.”

Hobbes is sitting behind his desk, definitely more tired and depressed than I have ever seen him before. It might be the hour of day but I think it’s more.

“I don’t have to accept this, Lipscomb. I could hand you over to Enrique and he can make you tell me where you have hidden my information.”

“I’ve seen pictures of his handiwork, you’re probably right. The question is, how long would it take?”

“From your character, I’d say not long.”

“You might be right about that too, Raymond, but are you willing to bet your business, your life on it? My fee is reasonable, certainly as a percentage of your gross, particularly when I went through all that trouble to raise prices by decreasing the supply.”

“That was YOU?”

“With Patricia’s assistance, of course.”

Hobbes looked more disappointed than angry.

“I will need to see a complete copy of the data, to confirm what you have.”

“Of course. I have a copy in my car. I can get it for you now or …”

“Enrique will go with you. While you are gone, I wish to speak with Patricia … alone.”

Cardoza seems surprised. “Alone? That isn’t a good idea X-ray. Once I have returned …”

“Alone, Enrique.”

“Then she must be restrained in some way.”

Hobbes considers this for a moment. “Collect some handcuffs from the guards.”

Cardoza was gone for only five minutes or so. They had Patricia sit, then locked her wrists to the arms of the chair and her ankles to the legs. They had her try to stand up but she could only get into a crouch. Cardoza seemed satisfied.

“That should hold her … until I get back.”

Hobbes holds out his right hand. “The control, Lipscomb.”

He hesitates. “You have no idea how dangerous it is.”

“Then it will be my funeral, won’t it?”

“It could be all our funerals if she gets free.”

“Then I had best be careful. You want your diamonds, hand me that controller.”

He still doesn’t react. Is he that afraid of me? Eventually, greed overcomes fear and he hands the controller over.

“Don’t go past Ten Blue.”

“I’ll keep your advice in mind. Close the door behind you.”

Hobbes knows how do dismiss someone. Both Cardoza and Lipscomb leave the office, closing the door behind them, as instructed. Hobbes walks back behind his desk and sits. He just stares at me for a few seconds, then turns the setting to Fifty Blue.

“I treated you like my own daughter, I would have given you anything you wanted. You saved my business.”

I REALLY wish people would stop using that darn thing like a video game controller. It takes a couple of moments for my head to clear.

“Yes, you did and yes, I did.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say? I was hired to do a job and I’m the best.”

“How was this done? How could you possibly be two different people?”

“Do you want the technical explanation? One of the men killed by Lipscomb was a scientist who came up with an incredible and completely illegal process to transfer the mind of one person into the body of a young teenage girl who had nearly died from, surprise, surprise, a drug overdose.”

“Nearly died?”

“Yeah, the scientist jumped the gun, brilliant guy but ethically challenged. Sound familiar?”

“Who was the other man who was killed?”

“The other man was me.”

Hobbes slowly shakes his head.

“And the woman?”

“You know who that was … my mother.”

“YOUR mother? The girl’s mother? Who?”

“Jessica Conner … though that wasn’t her real name.”

“Was it just a job for her also?”

“No, it was personal. One of the gangs you sell to screwed up and killed her husband and daughter, a girl who’d be near Gretchen’s age if she’d have lived. She wanted revenge.”

“That explains much. You have put me in a terrible position … Do I call you Patricia?”

“Might as well, I’m stuck now. As for your terrible position, I understand. It’s the game.”

“This was a game to you? A GAME?!”

“No, not anymore. I’ve spent most of my life going after people like you, criminals large and small. I enjoyed it, it was exhilarating, but it was also destructive. You’ve enjoyed your life in the drug trade but it too was destructive, it cost you your wife and was costing you your only daughter, not to mention all the devastation drugs causes to society.”

“I do not make people use drugs. If they didn’t …”

“Want them you couldn’t sell them. And if you didn’t sell them, somebody else would. I’m familiar with the arguments … and you’re absolutely right.”

“So why bother to fight me? There are worse men than I in the trade. Look at those mad men, the Zetas.”

“I can’t save the world, but I can save some of the people in the world. I can save Gretchen.”

“And you thought you could save me?”

“Maybe, if I had more time, but when Cardoza tried to have me killed …”

“Enrique? When?!”

“At the New Years party. He sent three gang bangers to the dance to kidnap and kill me. Gave orders to have me raped and cut up.”

“Why did I not hear of this?”

“I stopped them, traded silence for information, that’s how I know the details. If you don’t believe me, switch that thing to Fifty Pink, slowly please. I can’t lie at that setting, ask Lipscomb.”

Hobbes looks down at the Controller in his hand, rubbing his thumb along the side. He starts to reach for the switch but hesitates.

“You say they were ordered to cut you up?”

“After raping me, which frankly bothered me more than the knives.”

“Are you familiar with how my parents died?”

“Yeah, some kind of terrorist bomb.”

“Not exactly. There was an explosion and it was a bomb by a terror group but my parents were not killed by the blast. They were a block away, in front of a large office building with a decorative glass front. They were killed by the falling shards of glass when the front of the building shattered. Both were decapitated and dismembered. A horrible sight … I still have …” he looks away “… nightmares.”

Interesting. Cardoza had to know. I was to be a message to Hobbes, but what was that message? I’ll leave that one for later, if there is a later.

“Maybe we can compare nightmares.”

“It’s unlikely we’ll get the chance. You realize that no matter my personal feelings, you must be killed. My competitors cannot learn that I let someone who has betrayed me as you have go free. Such a sign of weakness would bring them all down upon me. I have no choice, Patricia.”

“Whatever you need to look yourself in the mirror, Mr. Hobbes, but you’ve got a choice. Everyone always has choices. You make them and you live with them and you die with them. I made a choice when I agreed to get put in this body, when I became Gretchen’s friend, when I decided to make sure she had other friends to help her when I left, when I saved your business, when I delayed going after that computer to give you time to realize there were better, safer ways to make money and finally, when Cardoza forced my hand, I decided that I was out of time and had to move now. I didn’t know anything about what Lipscomb had in mind but, in hindsight, it’s painfully obvious that something like this might happen. I made my choices and I’ll face the consequences.”

“Are you asking me not to have you killed?”

“That’d be great but you’re not strong enough to face the consequences. Don’t expect me to go easy though. I’d pretty much given up on life before this job but now … there are so many possibilities.”

“Even as you are, a man imprisoned in a girl’s body?”

“It’s not what I’d planned, but life is life. I do have one favor to ask and one bit of advice.”

“What is the advice?”

“Don’t trust Lipscomb. I did and see what it got me.”

“And the favor?”

“I know it’s your policy to make sure everyone knows when you’ve caught an infiltrator at least within the law enforcement community. Very public and graphic deaths. Don’t do that with me. Make it look like an accident or something. It’s better for Gretchen to not know about me, it’ll shatter her self-confidence, destroy her. Don’t do that to her. A tragic death, she’s got the support system to deal with that now. Plus, an accident keeps the police off your back.”

Hobbes shakes his head slowly. “Well reasoned, as always. We could have been great. Your mind and my resources, there would have been no stopping us.”

“You can still be great, Mr. Hobbes. All it takes is change.”

“Patricia … if you do manage to escape … run and don’t look back.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

There is opportunity in this disaster.

Hobbes has to admit that I had repeatedly warned him about Conner. While security is my responsibility, I am certain that I would have discovered her secret if he hadn’t put limits on me.

At least, that’s what I’m going to tell him when he complains about the computer breech, assuming he doesn’t blame Tippett for this debacle. The question may become what to do with Tippett? Perhaps a murder suicide with Conner. We can’t simply fire him, he knows much too much about our system and operations and even if he doesn’t know about the operations, we can’t take the chance. That’s one person who must die, one who will likely die … and then there’s the man sitting across from me, waiting for Hobbes to finish his little meeting.

“Mr. Lipscomb … I am curious. How do you plan to explain the deaths of your associates to your superiors?”

“You took care of that for me, Mr. Cardoza. The history of this organization is to ruthlessly deal with informers, the closer they get to successfully infiltrating your organization, the more severely they are treated. Considering what Patricia did, one could expect an extreme reaction. It will be quite easy to blame Hobbes for what I did to Warren and Matthews. As for Patricia, that’s undecided.”

“You have no plans?”

“I intended to give her to Hobbes as a bit of a peace offering. His reaction to the truth of what happened was not as … strong as I anticipated. Apparently, she was more successful in ingratiating herself into the household than I thought she had.”

“Some people are more gullible than others. She enchanted a number of people in the household. It was disgusting.”

“I take it you weren’t a fan.”

“She was a thorn in my side.”

He smiles brightly. “Perhaps you would be interested in … taking custody of Patricia, give her the treatment she deserves.”

“I take it you weren’t a fan?”

“Hardly. Peter Harris was an egotistical jerk, full of threats and bluster. No doubt, he was good at his job, one of the best, but a bastard to work with. Right now, his mere existence is a threat to me … and you.”

“Why me?”

“Because Patricia told me the truth about what happened at the New Years Dance.”

“What are you talking about? Nothing happened at that dance.”

“Not that she told you about, but I had a conversation with her while searching her house for evidence of this job. I was curious as to why she stole the computer data now rather than earlier. She said that she was attacked by three gang members at the dance, defeated them with a belt, of all things, and managed to get one of them to talk, apparently the only one she left conscious. The guy fingered you.”

One disaster on top of another. If Hobbes ever found out.

“Why would anyone believe such a fantastic story?”

“She was at Fifty Pink when she told it and she doesn’t lie at Fifty Pink. She felt that Hobbes was not aware of the true facts and might be upset with you should he be made aware.”

“Given what has happened since that day, I’m certain Hobbes will not be interested in anything she has to say.”

“Fine by me, not my problem, but, on the odd chance that you’re wrong about that, the sooner she’s dead and buried, the less risk she poses to you.”

Is he threatening to tell Hobbes himself? Is she telling him all about it right this very minute? Either is possible, neither is good.

“What are you suggesting, Lipscomb?”

“Enrique, call me Daniel. I expect us to have a long and profitable future. I’m suggesting that you are the best person to take care of Patricia Conner … once and for all. If you’re interested in the job, I can tell you a few secrets about Patricia, certain commands she can’t disobey.”

“What kind of commands?”

“The kind that any man would greatly enjoy.”

As I said, opportunity in disaster.