A Note from the Author:
This story is no different from the other Drew Nance stories – It still makes use of, or mentions, several real-world locations - Staten Island, New York, New Jersey, Riverdale, Sweden, Hawaii and other places. Though the way they’re shown in the story is close to RL, they were changed a bit for the sake of the story. Any negative impressions they may give are not necessarily RL. They’re used for continuity and verisimilitude for the story. Advance apologies to the Islanders: the Staten Island and Hawaii stereotypes here are in no way the author's personal image of them. Again, these stereotypes are from popular media, and were exaggerated for purposes of the story.
As to the selection of Staten Island as the main location in the story, it was selected because it was the only one in the five borroughs where regular use of cars was plausible: as the reader may know, driving in metropolitan New York is not a common thing except in Staten Island, where more than 83% of the families have cars and the majority use them regularly rather than commute, as opposed to the NYC average of 45%, with only 30% of working NYC people actually driving (8% in Manhattan!). Feel free to look up these stats, or you can check this article: https://www.nycedc.com/blog-entry/new-yorkers-and-their-cars .
This may be a minor thing but driving around is an essential plot element in Drew's stories.
Also, like I mentioned in the previous Drew Nance stories, I was inspired by the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys books, the 2002 TV-movie, the 2007 movie, as well as the “re-boot” graphic novel series “Nancy Drew, Girl Detective.” But other than that, this story has nothing to do with any of them, and though some names here are the same as the characters from those stories and shows, they are used here only as a tribute. As to the title, it’s also a tribute - “The Hidden Staircase” is the title of the second Nancy Drew novel. Again, the similarity ends with the name.
Furthermore, the pictures used are publicly accessible pictures from the Internet: this is not a commercial publication; no ownership is claimed; no copyright or IP infringement is intended.
As before, I apologize in advance if you find any temporal disconnects: i.e. real-world events not referenced in the proper time sequence, old popular figures referred to as if they’re current ones, etc. Nevertheless, I hope this doesn’t stop you from enjoying the story.
Like all Drew Nance stories, this one is a stand-alone story, too. But if you wish to read how all of this started, you can read the prologue story, “Drew Nance - Girl Detective Redux: A Beginning.” The prologue story was written with the encouragement of Sephy as an entry in a previous BCTS contest. Drew won that contest for me, actually (yayyy!), though it’s the only contest I ever won here in BCTS (lol). And that’s how Drew and her crazy crew were born.
You can also read the one that preceded this story: “Drew Nance, Girl Detective Book 1: The Secret of the Old Clock.” That’s up to you, of course lol. But, like I said, this second “book” is a stand-alone story, so there’s no need to look at these other stories: enough reference text is included so one need not refer to the previous stories.
Again, at the risk of sounding tedious and pedantic, I hereby serve notice that I am retaining the rights to my story. Because of the preponderance of plagiarism in BCTS/Amazon/Fictionmania and in other sites and venues, I had to have this on record. I appeal to the reader to notify me, or the site administrators if you notice anyone “borrowing” my stories, or even parts of them, and claiming them as theirs.
Now – Avanti!
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Drew Nance Book 2: "The Hidden Staircase" by Bobbie J. Cabot Chapter One: |
“Hi, Pop,” Drew said, traipsing down the stairs for breakfast, and bussed her dad on the cheek.
“Good morning, Drew,” Carson said. “Breakfast is almost ready.” He put a finger over his lips in a shushing gesture, and pointed at his briefcase in the breakfast nook.
Drew nodded. She went to the closet in the living room and came back with one of the portable radio signal detectors and the nonlinear junction detector that was disguised as a metal detector. The junction detector even had a sticker on it that her dad put on. It said "Sunspot Metal Detector: lots of fun at the beach." Both were devices that they bought the previous month to look for spy devices and bugs. Sure, they weren’t foolproof, but they were the best available.
She opened his briefcase and ran both devices over it. She sighed. “Nope, nothing,” she said. Carson sighed, too. “Whew. Sorry, Drew, I forgot to check them out last night.”
Drew put both devices back in the living room closet and sat down at the dinner table. She eagerly picked up her knife and fork and thumped them on the table like an orphan kid in a school revival of Oliver. “Bring on the vittles!” She exclaimed. “Food! Food!”
Carson laughed. “Vittles? What were you guys watching last night, anyway? Gunsmoke?”
Drew giggled. “No. Iola brought her DVD of ‘The Crazy Ones.’”
“Haven’t seen that.”
Drew giggled. “It was Robin Williams’ last TV show. It’s super funny. I’ll ask Iola later if I can borrow the DVD so you can watch it.”
“Robin Williams? Nice! But, speaking of which, what time did you come in last night anyway?”
“Ummm... past one?” She shrugged nervously, hoping Carson wouldn’t get mad. “I was over at Callie’s. Ummm, I left you a message?”
“That’s okay. Be glad that it’s not a school night.”
“School night? Pop! School’s been out for a while now.”
“Okay, okay. Force of habit. Simmer down. Here.” He put down a plate of scrambled eggs and corned beef in front of her.
“What’s this?” she asked, puzzled. “Corned beef for breakfast?”
“Sorry, Drew, we’re running low on groceries. But I found powdered eggs and canned beef in the cabinet above where you put your vitamins, so...”
“Dad! Those are for when there’s a storm and the fridge goes off or something!”
“No worries. I’ll do some grocery shopping later and replace them, okay?” He put a couple of slices of toast on a plate, a mug of coffee and a glass of orange juice beside it.
“Oh, no need,” Drew said. “I’ll do it. It gives me something to do.” She held her hand out, with the palm up.
“What?”
“Money. For the groceries.”
“Haven’t I said you don’t get an allowance anymore? That you have to use your own money for all your stuff now?”
“Yes. But this is for the house, not for me.”
Carson frowned. He stalked back to his briefcase and brought out his checkbook.
“Okay,” he huffed. “I’ll give you a check for the groceries.” He paused. “Come to think of it, maybe you should take care of our groceries from now on. As well as the water, electric, cable, Internet and phone.”
“Huh? Wait, wait!”
He took his phone and started adding up numbers. “Let’s see. We spend around a hundred sixty a week for groceries. Round up to four and a half weeks a month makes seven-twenty. Our monthly electric bill averages two-fifty. Water’s about one-fifty, including the bottled water refills. And the cable, Internet and phone is one-fifty. So that comes out to one thousand, two hundred and seventy dollars. I’ll write you a check every month and you can take care of the groceries, the water, electric, cable, internet and phone.”
“What!”
“Hmmm. You’re right. I’ll give you a thousand-five even, just in case.”
“Dad! That’s unfair!”
“And anything left over – think of that as your tip.”
“Tip!”
“I’ll also write out a check for Arlene’s monthly salary, or maybe include it in one check, and you encash it for her.”
“Wait – why don’t you just make out the check to her?”
“She has to get her salary in cash, ‘coz we’re not reporting this to the IRS, so you have to be the one to encash it and give it to her in cash, and in installments instead of one whole lump.”
Drew looked at him rebelliously.
“Come on, Drew. With the new job, I just don’t have the time anymore.”
Drew sighed. “Okay. But! You make it two thousand instead one thousand and five, and I get to keep everything that’s left over.”
Carson looked at her with his best negotiating expression. “All right. But you have to get everything in the regular grocery list, and you take care of any other household things that we may need.”
“What if extra expenses make me go over what you gave?”
“Then that means you have to keep receipts so I can properly reimburse you.”
“Okay, it’s a deal!”
“Deal! Two a month for buying the groceries, paying for the utilities, and paying Arlene."
They shook hands on it. As they were shaking hands, they broke down laughing.
“Is that how you are when you’re with a client?” Drew giggled.
“Oh, that was nothing. But you were a worthy opponent.”
Drew stuck her tongue out at him, and they sat down to eat. She got a forkful of scrambled eggs and corned beef.
“Hmmm! This ain’t half bad!”
“Good.”
“Or maybe I’m just hungry.” Drew giggled.
“Did you guys even eat dinner at Callie’s last night?” he said, a little worried.
“Of course!” Drew said. “What do you think, Callie and her aunt don’t take care of us? Sure, Aunt Arlene can’t cook worth a...”
“So takeout then?” Carson interrupted.
Drew sighed. “Well, yeah. Otherwise we would have been stuck with Callie’s cooking.” Drew made a face. "I'd rather starve. Anyway, we got dinner from that new Korean place. Korean barbecue’s pretty good. It’s just that I didn’t get to eat a lot – Callie and Iola are pretty quick with the chopsticks.”
Carson laughed. “Did you get Kimchi? How’d you like kimchi?”
Drew made a face. “Bulgogi's nice. Beansprouts and noodle salad - nice. Kimchi? Ekkk!”
“Kimchi’s good! You just have to develop a taste for it.”
Drew shrugged and listlessly moved her scrambled eggs around her plate. “You’re bored, huh?” Carson said, watching her.
She sighed. “I’m sooo bored!”
“Yeah. I know.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
“And before you say anything, I’m not working at your office! ‘Kay?”
Carson laughed. “Well, that wasn’t what I was going to say. I have some other ideas.” Carson went back to his briefcase and came back with some brochures.
“What do you think of these?” he asked.
She looked through the brochures. “Oooh! Hawaii! What made you think of Hawaii?”
“American Amalgamated, my organization’s retail arm, is partnered with a couple of travel agencies. All of the executives get a discount on any bookings, like seventy percent off the standard rates. If that’s true, I’m willing to cover all expenses.”
“Cool! But... can you get time off?”
“That’s not the first question that should have come to mind. I mean, Hawaii? Swimming?”
“Huh?”
“Swimming? Bikinis? Scanty clothes?...”
“I don’t get... Oh... OH!”
“Now you get it. I’m willing to arrange for the trip so long as it’s... I mean, that your attire will remain, ummm, impenetrable.”
Drew looked at him for a long time.
“Ummm, Drew?”
“Stay here. Gimme five minutes.” She went upstairs.
“I guess it’s my turn to say ‘huh?’” he said, but she wasn’t there anymore. Less than five minutes later, Drew came back down wearing her white suit. “Ummm. That’s a very... nice swimsuit.”
“Specifically, this is called a one-piece.”
“Oookaay.”
“So?” Drew said, and stood in several poses in what Carson thought were very reminiscent of Sports Illustrated beach layouts. What she wore looked like the swimsuits the girls in the old Baywatch TV show used to wear, except that this one was white instead of red. “What do you think?”
“Okay, okay!” Carson said in a slightly distressed voice. “I admit it. Your camouflage is perfect.”
Drew giggled and continued to pose. And Carson had to note that her... stuff was... not in evidence. And she moved totally normally. If he didn’t know the truth, Drew looked and moved exactly like any teenager in a swimsuit. And as she went through more poses, Carson had to grimace a bit. Drew had now ruined his image of women. Hopefully not forever. He shook his head in a futile attempt to get rid of the pictures in his head.
“Stop that, Drew,” he said. “I’m not exactly comfortable seeing you do that...”
“Oh, Pop,” she sighed.
“One of these days, you have to explain to me how you do that.”
“Do what? The poses? It’s just like the layouts they do in fashion magazines.” She demoed again.
“Not that,” he said. “I meant that.” He gestured to the bottom part of her suit. “Did you have Doctor Joe do some procedures on you without telling me?”
“Oh no! It’s the underwear I have on.” She started to pull down the bottom of the suit from the back so that she could show him the elastic of the gaff she was wearing.
"It’s called a gaff, and...”
“Stop! No, no. I’m fine. I’ll take your word for it. Objection retracted.”
“Oh, Pop! What’s wrong? I went swimming with the girls once. Don’t you remember? What did you think I was wearing that time?”
“I’m sorry. I had assumed that you were wearing board shorts or something like that. Let’s move on, okay?”
Drew giggled. “Okay. So, will you be able to take time off for us to go to Hawaii?”
“I’m still too new on the job to be able to take days off, Drew.”
Drew shrugged. “Then that’s that.”
“Wait, Drew – listen to me. What if I get you and Callie and Iola one of those two- or three-week packages, and I’ll take a weekend off and catch up with you guys.”
“But, Pop...”
“Do it, Drew. We didn’t get to do much together before. We haven’t gotten a chance to go to Hawaii or anywhere before, in fact. The farthest we’ve gone together was our trip to New York.”
“We do plenty of things! What about our Sundays? What about our Thanksgiving weekends?”
“Well, our Sundays are great, and camping is always fun. But it’s not like Hawaii. We’ll keep doing our thanksgiving weekends, to be sure. But we can do other things as well, can’t we?”
“Okay.”
“Good.” Carson gave her a peck. That felt super-weird while Drew was wearing her one-piece.
“I gotta tell Callie and Iola, then!” Drew exclaimed, for once clueless of Carson’s discomfort. “They’re gonna go out of their minds!” She pulled out her phone and started texting.
Carson chuckled.
“Do you think Aunt Arlene and Iola’s folks will give their permission?”
“I don’t know, but they’ve been cool with you guys doing stuff on your own before.”
Someone knocked on their door.
“Ooops,” Carson said. “That would be my guy. Time to go. We can talk about this later, okay?”
He handed Drew a check and she helped him put on his coat.
“Okay, Pop,” she said, and gave him a kiss. “Have fun at the office.” She waved goodbye as Carson was taken away in his chauffer-driven company-assigned car, hiding behind the door as she did. She was suddenly stricken with shyness when she remembered she was wearing just a swimsuit.
After a couple of days of Carson arriving in the office grumpy because of having to contend with morning rush hour traffic, Alice, Carson’s secretary, had convinced Drew to convince Carson to allow her to assign him a car and driver. And ever since then, Carson would be picked up and brought home by a chauffeured company car. Since then, his mood in the office had improved.
What was curious, though, was that the car would arrive as early as six, sometimes even earlier, and the driver would just park in front of the house waiting for eight AM before knocking on their door. Also, at the end of the day, the driver would stay out there for about an hour or so after bringing Carson home before eventually driving away. Alice explained that was standard procedure in case of changes in Carson’s schedule, or if he needed the car after work. In fact, even Drew was authorized to use the car so long as Carson doesn’t need it, and they just need to call her or Tate Center’s dispatch line if they needed a car on the weekends.
Still, Drew found it suspicious and, under a contrived reason, she walked out a couple of times to say hi to the driver, with one of the radio signal detectors in her pocket (the alarm volume turned low, of course). When she did, the alarm was triggered both times. It could be just be the walkie-talkie or cell phone the driver was carrying to keep in touch with the office, or the car’s radio on the dash, but Drew was suspicious nevertheless, because the source seemed to be in the back passenger compartment, not in front.
Drew couldn’t tell if it was all innocent. It probably was, actually, and the video from their cameras showed that the driver stayed in or around the car, and never approached the house until he was ready to knock on the door. But they couldn’t take any chances.
So they behaved “normally” as always, continuing on without any “non-Drew” or “non-Carson” behavior. But they were doubly careful now, lest Carson’s driver sees something to make him suspicious. That was all they could do to not tip their hand.
Just another day in the life of the Nances.
- - - - -
A little under five months ago, Attorney David Fayne and his daughter Jane were murdered. David was an attorney working for the New York County District Attorney’s Office, and had this little private project to uncover a criminal syndicate working under the cover of the country’s largest commercial conglomerate – a conspiracy that routinely did its clandestine activities in the guise of normal business. It was David's own personal pet project that no one knew about – except for himself and his daughter.
David’s information indicated that this illegal underworld did business in the billions, and was responsible for a long string of murders as well. But while on a supposed cross-country road trip to visit his brother Bill and Bill's son Andy in their childhood hometown of River Heights, those that he was after had David and his daughter Jane killed.
But before David and Jane set out on their trip, David was able to send some of the information that he had already gathered to his brother Bill.
Hours after Bill got David’s hard drive, as well as a file folder full stuff, Bill and his son, Andy, were quickly tracked down by David’s unknown nemeses. Without Bill’s quick thinking, he and Andy would have been killed as well: David had concocted for himself and Jane a couple of undercover identities in order to go into hiding if necessary, but they had been murdered before they could make use of them. Bill decided to use these undercover identities for himself and Andy.
So, under the guise of the fictitious Carson and Andrea Nance, Bill and Andy continued David’s little “project,” and eventually expose David’s, Jane’s and Maria’s murderers (Maria was Bill and Andy’s long-time housekeeper, killed just before the two went into hiding).
Of course, it would be difficult to complete their “project” without exposing themselves, so they planned to do it secretly and carefully, so as not to leave any trails and keep anyone from even suspecting who they really were and what they were doing. It would be a long, slow process because of that.
Bill and Andy knew that their “project” would probably take years, but they didn’t care about that so long as they eventually catch the people responsible for David’s, Jane’s and Maria’s deaths. They would bide their time while they gathered their evidence. And while they did, they would live their lives as their new alter egos of Carson and Andrea Nance.
David originally prepared the Carson identity for his own use in case he needed to go underground, and since the Andrea Nance identity was meant for Jane, it was a girl’s identity... Which was a bit problematic for Andy...
While Bill had it easy playing his part as Carson, it was a bitch for Andy trying to live as a girl. But he, or rather she now, eventually learned to cope. And as they worked to accumulate their evidence, Carson got on with his new life as a high-powered corporate lawyer and Andrea (Drew to her friends) started her life as her new school’s hottest, most popular blonde.
Aside from their facial plastic surgeries, they made sure to take other precautions to keep their disguises impenetrable: things like not breaking out of character ever; keeping nonlinear detectors and radio frequency detectors around the house to check for bugs; keeping hidden surveillance cameras; putting away all of their “evidence” and other stuff in their hidden safe; and for Drew – soaking in long baths and slathering moisturizers all over herself each morning and evening to keep her skin as soft as a girl’s, always dressing in the most feminine of outfits, and always wearing a gaff.
Unlike Carson’s surgery on his face, Drew’s surgical procedures included breast implants, electrolysis, selective liposuction and fat transfer using the fairly new technique called “structural fat grafting.” This gave Drew the look and figure of a very attractive girl. Intensive voice lessons also gave her a completely passable feminine voice. But that was all that she had done – Drew didn’t want to do any truly permanent or... “fundamental” changes to herself, so she needed to be careful of her choice in clothes, especially her pants and skirts, otherwise she might be found out.
A month ago, Drew picked up her old hobby of solving “cases” again – the little mysteries that the old Andy seemed to have a knack for stumbling over, which, apparently, Drew still had as well. Solving these little mysteries used to be a fun hobby for Andy, the aspiring detective. For Drew, it was still fun, but it was also a kind of therapy – it kept her mind from dwelling on her need to hide her gender from everyone, and it kept her analytical abilities as sharp as possible.
She needed those abilities to help complete their “project,” after all. And, again, it was fun.
The first “case” she tackled as Drew was the case that they had come to call “the Mystery of the Old Clock.” Drew found solving it was interesting and very rewarding indeed, and her best friends thought it the most fun they’d ever had, sneaking around and looking for clues, and being chased by, and escaping from, the police. And in the course of solving the case, Callie and Iola were also able to help Drew become a cheerleader just like them, and Drew acquired a monster Cadillac Escalade ESV and several new admirers. But all that’s a different story from this one.
This one that you’re reading now is about the second case she tackled - the case she and her friends would eventually call “the Mystery of the Hidden Stairway.”
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Drew Nance Book 2: "The Hidden Staircase" by Bobbie J. Cabot Chapter Two: |
As per use, when Callie and Iola heard about their impending trip to Hawaii, they, first, screamed their heads off, and then, second, arranged a sleepover that night to start planning for it. Drew sighed - yet another sleepover.
First things first, though – Drew looked up FreshDirect on the internet and placed an order for groceries using her debit card. Because they were still piloting same-day delivery, Drew was lucky because they specified a two-hour delivery time. That was great - that would give her time to do her usual morning thing. She also saved her order so she could easily re-order everything she got every week, to be delivered every Saturday afternoon, so that Aunt Arlene would be around to receive the delivery.
Next thing was to place a call to Otto’s and confirm their schedule to check out the Nance’s new lawn ornament, also known as “Phil Cohen’s Trashed Escalade,” and tow it to their garage if needed.
Drew had won Phil’s car in an epic car race (well, epic for Saint George, Staten Island, that is). Of course, it was all for naught because the doofus didn’t know how to work a Nitrous Oxide injector because all he knew was what he saw in The Fast and The Furious (apparently he saw all eight of the movies and thought he was now an expert). Phil overheated the Escalade's engine and blew the radiator: it wasn’t running anymore. Without Ned Nickerson’s help, they wouldn’t even have been able to have it towed to their place. Presently, it was parked on the street outside their house like a big, dead cow leaking engine oil and other fluids, or like a really expensive lawn ornament.
A couple of days ago, Phil called her and tried his best to buy back his car. Drew openly wondered why he’d want to buy it back when the engine was kaput, but Phil said that he didn’t think the damage was that bad.
“She just overheated, after all,” he said. “I just over-revved or something.”
“Oookaaay,” Drew said. Over-revved? Really? She had enough of a background with cars that she knew it wasn’t just a case of overheating. NOS kits aren’t all that difficult to find, and a lot of hobbyists knew how to connect them, but if not done professionally, and if the driver didn’t know how to work it...
Phil was desperate to get it back, especially since his dad didn’t know anything about it, and he would prefer it stayed that way. He even made a lame attempt to convince her that her claim on his Escalade was illegal. But Carson had drilled her with a lot of legalese just in case. So, peppered with a lot of hard-to-pronounce legal terms, he just meekly hung up. Later, Drew asked her dad if it really was illegal, and Carson said it was. But, he said, what Phil didn’t know and all that...
Carson actually blew his top when Drew told him about the race (she had no choice but let him know, after all – otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to explain the Escalade she had towed and parked outside), and he went on and on about how dangerous and illegal it was. But his heart really wasn’t in it. Secretly, he was proud that Drew won her little race. Actually, he wished that he and his brother could have done the same kind of thing when they were in high school.
- - - - -
Carson suspected that, when Drew “found” their house on the net, it wasn’t exactly by happenstance. Staten Island was the borough in New York that was the most “auto-centric,” and the one place in New York where Drew could indulge her car obsession. This wasn’t surprising – he remembered Andy’s old souped-up Pontiac Sunfire when Drew was still Andy, and how much Andy loved driving around in it. So it wasn’t surprising that Drew got herself another dragster, and got them to live in the only place where she could use it regularly and show it off. Carson even researched it – over eighty percent of the island residents had cars, and the majority used them instead of using public transportation, despite the less-than-ideal roads. What he didn’t expect was for her to pick a rinky-dink car like an Opel Twin-Top to soup up.
Initially, he had misgivings about selecting Staten Island as their new home, given its spotty déclassé reputation, but in the end, even if most of the residents were working-class people with a... less than refined demeanor and dress sense, he agreed because his research also said it was the city’s safest borough to live in, the most residential in its ambiance, and the greenest, with over nine thousand acres of parkland. And, besides, he now loved their neighborhood, and he loved it more for his déclassé neighbors, who were friendly, very inclusive and very down-to-earth. And they say what they mean, and mean what they say.
Besides, he was sure that their upper-middleclass style and sensibilities (he laughed at this self-description of his) would make them immune to any social or fashion faux pas. And, so far, he has been proven right. With Drew’s social and dress sense, which she “borrowed” from Jane, coupled with her own innate irreproachable character, he couldn’t have been more proud. And, for him, although he still had some work to work to do on his rep with his neighbors and at the office, he seemed to be doing okay as well.
In the back of his mind, Carson knew that this racing thing of hers was inevitable. He should have anticipated something like this. So, in the end, he just forbade her from doing it again. And then eagerly asked for details.
Drew giggled at that and told him everything, although she edited a couple of things out (like her being in a race car driver costume). She even showed him the pictures that one of the Freshmen took for Callie. Of course, her pictures were all from behind the wheel (she had carefully hidden those where her entire outfit was on display), but there were pictures of Callie and Iola in their Starter Girl outfits.
Carson was amazed at Drew’s level of knowledge with cars, and excitedly went through Tiger’s innards (She explained that “Tiger” was her pet name for her Opel Twin-top). Drew explained all the modifications and Carson was amazed. Drew showed the overpowered Mercedes engine and the limiter switch under the dash that stopped Tiger going over 120MPH (the top limit of the stock Tigra Twin-Top), and Carson marveled at the level of workmanship. He knew Drew spent a lot of his money on her little car, but he never knew where it went. Now he did, and he was impressed.
Drew laughed as his dad sat in the driver’s seat and made vroom-vroom sounds. He wanted to put on Drew’s helmet but it wouldn’t fit. He also inspected the racecar tires and rims that Drew had already taken off, looked inside the engine bay as well as took a peek underneath the chassis.
He insisted that they should go to that racetrack oval she told him about sometime – he wanted to test-drive Tiger.
Giggling, she agreed and said maybe they can do it on one of their Sundays - they could go out racing instead of playing putt-putt golf.
“No mini-golf?” Carson asked. “Nooo!”
- - - - -
Phil said he could come by around four today, and Drew agreed. By that time, Otto would have had a chance to check out the Escalade and say how much it would take to salvage it. With that info, Drew would know better how to haggle with Phil.
At around eleven, Drew had finished with her usual morning routine and dressed in a pair of cami-length tights, a close-fitting, stretchy, spaghetti-strap camisole and a pair of canvass shoes.
The top was a stretchy, light little rayon-spandex camisole with adjustable spaghetti straps and a lace-accented neckline. It had a built-in bra with an elastic band, which Drew liked. It was perfect for the warm weather, and perfect for lounging around the house. She also wore her usual gaff in place of underwear – an almost automatic thing for her nowadays.
When she got to the kitchen, she took her vitamins with the funny Swedish name - “Sats Sju” (Sally said that it was pronounced “sats hoo”), and started putting away the groceries that were delivered via FreshDirect. She'd been meaning to translate the name "Sats Sju" using Google, but she kept on forgetting. It wasn't important, thought, so she let it go.
It wasn’t too unusual that her dad was totally clueless about internet-based door-to-door delivery – he hasn’t had to take care of household matters until Maria died. But Drew knew enough to have their groceries delivered via FreshDirect. It was obviously more expensive to buy online, but the convenience of buying stuff from a website and having them delivered more than made up for it. Carson would kick himself for not thinking of it himself when Drew told him about it later.
Drew also made arrangements with the utility companies for her to pay their bills via her debit card, so that meant she can just do her payments via their secure sites (She used her debit account instead of her real bank account to protect her from all the internet fraud stuff she'd read happening lately. She'd just top it up with Dad's check every month.). She had to giggle because, as good as Carson was, he routinely made these kinds of oversights, especially when it involved the Internet. He knew the technology, at least as good as she did. It’s just that he rarely knew how to apply it, especially to himself and his own needs. But he did have his assistant Alice. Drew was confident Alice would keep him straight until he got better with things.
In the meantime, Drew would manage. She chuckled since she got him to give him an extra five hundred a month – the exact amount of her old allowance, all for posting a couple of things on the net, which didn’t take more than fifteen minutes (she knew her allowance was pretty big to most kids, so she just didn't tell Iola and the others).
She nuked a little bowl of tomato soup and put together a sardine sandwich for lunch, and surfed the net until Callie’s Aunt Arlene arrived for her regular thrice-a-week cleaning.
As usual, Drew got tongue-tied when Aunt Arlene arrived. Callie and her Aunt Arlene looked enough like each other to be like sisters. And since Callie was a very good-looking girl...
Before she started cleaning, Aunt Arlene said that she and Callie talked about the trip to Hawaii, but Drew interrupted her, saying not to make a decision whether or not she's giving her permission yet until the details were solid. Aunt Arlene sighed and agreed. She then started cleaning the house, as per use. She also knew about the sleepover later, and told Drew Callie would be by at around six.
Drew nodded and the doorbell interrupted them. Otto and his people had just arrived in a truck with a tow bar. Drew went out and greeted them.
“So this is the heap you were talking about, huh?” Otto said, looking over the Escalade.
“Yep,” she said, and handed him the keys. He popped the hood and his people looked the engine over. Drew also got Otto to look at the NOS kit at the back. When he did, he shook his head.
“What’s wrong?” Drew asked.
“Well, kid,” Otto said, gesturing at the Nitrous injector, “this particular kit isn’t suited to this kind of car. The Escalade has a 6.2-liter V8 engine. This NOS kit is only good for cars with three-liter engines and smaller. And I bet the injector adapters were just jury-rigged.”
“But I saw it work!”
“Also, look here,” Otto said, and pointed to one of the valves. “The Nitrous valve was unlocked and adjusted to feed more than what this kit’s supposed to deliver. They did that because of the larger engine. Sure, it worked, but since the valve’s lock was removed, it loosened while under pressure, and slowly increased the flow of the Nitrous Oxide.”
He gestured for Drew to lean in closer.
“Look at this” he pointed. Drew saw that the valve was already wide open.
“So, you think that’s what caused...”
“Mostly, yeah. Plus the fact that the driver probably let it run longer than what was optimal.” One of Otto’s mechanics came over and nodded hello to Drew, and tapped his boss's shoulder.
“Hey, Otto...” he began.
“Whatcha got?” Otto replied
“It’s pretty bad, boss. The engine block’s cracked, I think. There’s a big puddle of motor oil underneath. Won’t really be able to tell until we take down the block. And it doesn’t want to turn over. Crankshaft maybe, or maybe cracked connecting rods. The pistons will definitely be damaged as well. The radiator’s shot, too ‘coz of overheating, probably the water pump, too. The gaskets are probably burned out and manifolds are also probably cracked.”
Otto shook his head.
“What does all that mean,” Drew asked.
“That means, darlin’, that the engine block is most probably beyond repair. As well as the cooling system.”
“Oh, no! How much will it take to replace it?”
“Well, I can get a nice, used V8 L94 for maybe a couple of thousand, but that’s just the beginning. A whole pile of other stuff will be needed. Camshaft, pistons, piston heads, radiator, pump...”
Drew’s worried look got worse and worse as Otto went through the long litany of things that needed to be done and things to be replaced.
“So, how much?” she asked, cutting to the chase.
“Darlin’, I can’t be sure without really having to go through the thing in-depth. But definitely nothing less than twenty grand, most likely forty, and we’ll need at least a couple of months.."
"But it took you less than a month to complete the work on my twin-top, all told. And this one sounds like a simple engine replacement.”
“Well, it’s not just a 'simple' engine replacement. And besides that, my shop’s not really set up to work on trucks this big, Drew. I specialize in subcompacts and regular-sized cars. So it’ll take longer.”
He spread his hands. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to scam you. I don’t want to take on the job, actually. I got so many other things lined up, I don’t think I can even start working on this for months even if I did take this on. Believe me, it’s just too much trouble.”
“Well... okay. I won’t have it fixed anymore,” she said. “Damn,” she said under her breath. “And I thought I had another car...”
“Well, if you’re thinking of getting another car...”
“I might.”
”I think I can get you an old Porsche 911, or a second-hand Alfa Romeo Spider or something.”
Drew frowned. “You know me, Otto - a Porsche or a Spider... I don't want to buy any, ummm, 'recognizable' sports car. I don't want to be so obvious.”
Otto laughed. “And I thought you were just looking to save on the budget.” Drew scratched her head and had a sheepish look in her face.
“Well... Can I be completely honest, Otto? I have a reputation now. Because of Tiger, I mean, the Opel Tigra Twin-Top you refurbished for me. Everyone in school thinks she's amazing, especially for such a small car. And if I were to show up with just any old sports car... Well, I'll just be one of those girls who sweet-talked her dad to buy her a super-expensive toy...
“I doubt if a Porsche or an Alfa Romeo is anything remotely like any old sports car or a 'toy'...”
“Otto! You know what I mean! I don't want to people to think I'm just another spoiled kid that...”
Otto laughed. “Okay, okay! Simmer down, kid. Hmm.. Lemme think. A sports car that’s not too well known...” After a few moments, he snapped his fingers.
“I have a line on a nice, near-mint condition 2014-model Peugeot RCZ sports coupe.”
“Sports coupe? Sounds like an expensive…”
Otto waved her down. “I can let you have this one for two.”
“Huh? Gowan! What’s the catch? Is it stolen?”
“I got it legally from the owner, as a kind of bonus for a custom job I did on his real car, and I’m passing it on to you below my usual markup. It’s just in need of a little bodywork. As to how much that would be...”
“Aha! A ‘little’ bodywork, huh?”
“Really, Drew! I’m not scamming you. The car’s in pretty good shape! The owner was a pretty good guy and he kept it in tune. He was an executive in Peugeot, and he got this one second hand for his daughter more than two years ago. But the daughter never used it, so it was just stuck inside his garage. And then the garage’s roof collapsed because of a falling tree, and the car’s roof got stoved in. So, it’s in pretty mint condition except for the roof. Anyway, it was just taking up space in his garage so he wanted to get rid of it and make room for his wife’s new car. So he sold it to me for the price of towing it away.
“Anyway, as I said, I’m not pressuring you. If you don’t want it, I got a list of other buyers. I just wanted to give you first crack at it.”
“Why aren’t you holding out for a better price?”
“I’m not in the business of selling rinky-dink cars. We are top-of-the-line mechanics, not kitsch car dealers ... not that this one is kitsch - it's Peugeot’s first sports coupe in abut ten years, after all. See?” Otto showed her his phone, which had a picture of the car.
Drew looked at the picture of the Peugeot. “Cute-looking car, even with the broken roof. I like it. Who was the previous owner again?”
“The owner is a good customer of mine. He’s an executive from Peugeot, and a part-time wine dealer and goes to California at least once a month on business. No one was using the car and he hated wasting garage space, and having to keep up its registration. So I offered to take it off his hands.”
“By passing it on to another customer?” Drew smiled.
“Ah, I give up!”
Drew giggled. “Simmer down, Otto! Anyway, how much to get it back up to snuff?”
“The car’s perfectly fine except for the roof. But if you want more than just a tune-up, it will depend on what you want done. If so, we might not be able to find cheap parts easily ‘coz it's been out of production for more than two years now. So, if you just want it as close to original but are amenable to after-market or make-alike stuff, and off-the-shelf paint, we can keep the cost down to something below five thousand. But if we want to soup it up to something like your twin-top...”
“Not exactly like my twin-top, but similar. For one thing... Ummm, what're the specs of the engine, by the way?”
“I can't remember, except it's a 1.6 engine, and it's top speed is one-forty.”
“That’s a pretty decent spec.”
“I think I can pull some strings and get another Mercedes CLA block just like the one I got for your Twin-Top. So that’ll up the displacement to 2,000 cc, and since the RCZ is lighter than the Mercedes, I think it can get close to your old Twin-Top’s max.”
“Then I definitely would want to change the engine.”
“That should be about fifteen to twenty thousand for engine, the bodywork and the improvements. If it’s like your twin-top.”
“A little steep, but okay. But I'd like some more bling for it, too.”
“Depends on what you want as ‘bling.’”
“Hmmm... Can you think up some ideas?”
“Okay, I'll think about it. A possible buyer’s coming in next week so we'll have ‘til then to decide, okay?"
“’Kay. Appreciate it, Otto.”
“No problem, kid.”
After some more chitchat, Drew asked them to check out her little Opel Twin-Top “Tiger” so that their trip wouldn’t be a complete waste. When they were done and had already left, she then went back in the house and researched the Peugeot RCZ Sports Coupe on the net. And she found it nice-looking - a little larger than Tiger, but it still had that cute vibe. She was sure Jane would have liked it.
Later, when Phil arrived and Otto had finished his thing and was long gone, he was driving a fancy, open-bed Ford pickup, the midnight-black paint job reflecting the light almost as brightly as the chrome exhaust pipes and fancy spinners.
“How many trucks does Phil have, anyway,” Drew wondered. She could only assume the reason he came without his usual hangers-on was that he didn’t want anyone to witness the transaction.
“Hey, babe,” Phil said in his usual dirty-pig way. Drew knew better than to be baited so she just smirked. Phil couldn’t get it up to do much because Drew could up and tell his dad on him about his Escalade. And even if that wasn’t the case, he still wouldn’t - no one dared go up against Drew.
“So, Phil,” Drew said.
“I want to buy back my Escalade,” he said, without any preamble.
“Like I said, Phil, the engine’s a total loss. I even had her checked out earlier. The engine’s gone.”
Phil waved her down, not believing her. “That’s okay. I’ll have my guy look her over later.”
“Phil, I’m telling you...”
“Drew, you don’t need another car! You don’t have to do this.”
“Phil, I don’t want to keep your car...”
“Whatever. But I NEED to buy it back! My dad will kill me if he hears I lost it.”
“Ahhh, there it is,” Drew thought. “Finally.”
“... and I lost it to a girl, too,” Phil mumbled.
Drew sighed. “Okay. So what are you thinking?”
“Well, you can just give it back to me...”
“Fat chance of that. Just like you with your dad, if the kids in school hear that I just gave it back, my reputation’s shot. No, you have to buy it back.”
“Your reputation won’t be damaged! You’re Drew Nance, for God’s...”
“Sweet-talk won’t change my mind so you can stop it. In fact, you have to TELL the kids you bought it back, ‘coz if they don’t know that, there will be assumptions that I’m, well, that I’m sweet on you or something.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing?” Phil gave her his most lecherous grin. “Heheheh...” Drew slapped him. Not hard at all, actually, more like a mock-slap, but Phil still went “Owww!”
“That’s gross!” Drew said.
“Gross? What do you mean ‘gross!’”
She waved her hands in the air. “Whatever! All I’m saying is that whatever happens, whatever you say, I’m going to tell everyone that you bought it back, and that you bought it back for a LOT of money. And if you call me a liar, no one will believe you, and I’m going to make life extremely hard for you.”
She stepped closer and she got in his face.
“And believe me,” she whispered in a very scary tone, “I can do that.”
Phil gulped. He knew Drew’s reputation and had seen how badly things went for those who crossed her. One of his buds, Jerry Gilroy, one of the more popular guys around, found himself being avoided by all the girls now, and because of that, everyone else avoided him, too. And all because he told everyone that he slept with Drew.
Even though no one believed Jerry, Drew didn’t like it nevertheless. Whatever Drew did (no one knew what, specifically), Jerry was being treated like a leper now.
Another story was about a kid that was selling crack, and how he was caught red-handed with his stash. He had accidentally dropped his bag - apparently, the clip of his bag-strap was accidentally unlocked, the bag’s flap was accidentally left open, and his accidental stumbling down the school entrance steps was because of an untied shoelace, a sticky puddle of Coke Zero and the triple distraction of Drew, Iola and Callie adjusting bra straps and shoe straps right beside him - all accidental (there was, however, talk that Drew was the one who accidentally spilled the soda).
And the resulting spill of half a kilo of crack cocaine across the school’s front paving stones right in front of a couple of off-duty cops who were there "by coincidence" sealed it for the guy. Being eighteen, he was tried in court as an adult and, under New York State law, he was sentenced to life in prison.
The talk around school was that the extreme number of “accidents” seemed to make the whole thing sound fishy, that someone (i.e. Drew) engineered the whole thing. And regardless of whether that was true or not, these and many other things have made Drew one of the scariest people to cross. And given that she was also one of the sexiest kids around, not to mention bright, talented, classy and rich - such talk has made her totally formidable indeed.
The closest that the school had to someone like Drew before she came on the scene was Janine, the captain of the varsity cheerleaders. And because Janine was graduating, she wouldn’t be around next school year. The rumor that Drew was also going to be a cheerleader this coming school year made people think that Drew will be “inheriting” Janine’s “throne.” Many felt relief at that because Janine was conceited, self-centered and vengeful, and Drew was not.
However, those that knew Drew well, like her best friends Callie and Iola, have publicly said, loudly and often, that won’t happen – that the “throne” will not go to Drew because she didn't want it. Whether that was true or not, only time will tell. But, regardless, it remained that very few people wanted to cross Drew, especially Phil Cohen, the latest victim of Drew’s... superpowers.
- - - - -
Phil looked down glumly after Drew laid down her terms. “Okay," Phil said. "You know you have me over a barrel. So. How much are you asking for her?”
Drew giggled. “Oh, Phil! I said I’m going to say that you paid me a lot of money.”
“Oh? ... Oh!” Phil laughed, finally getting it. “So... we’re done now?”
“Oh, no way! You’re still gonna pay me. But something reasonable.”
“Ummm... how about, say, a thousand bucks?”
Drew laughed, and Phil had to wait until she got herself under control.
“But you just said that she’s gone kaput." That triggered Drew again.
“Okay, okay,” Phil said before she could explode in laughter again. “Sorry. So how much would you take for her?”
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s calculate how much your car was before the race, and start from there: A brand-new Escalade retails for around eighty grand. Your Escalade was well maintained and fairly new, had a lot of little doodads and other nifty toys. So it should get a good price. Thing is... after the race, you messed it up so the price should be lower now. It needs a brand-new GM 6.2 Liter V8 Vortec L94 engine, and that isn’t cheap... So that would bring the price down considerably...”
Phil nodded his head as if he was paying attention but actually wasn’t. “So, how much?”
Drew sighed and gave up. “Name me a price." Phil shrugged. “Forty thousand?" Drew sighed again. “Oh, Phil...”
“Really, Drew! That’s the best I can do!” (And, since Phil’s family was rich, this wasn’t so true.)
“You’re not getting it, Phil. I meant that price is pretty high.”
“Two thousand, then?” Phil said, hopefully, going the other direction.
Drew snorted. “Don’t be insulting, Phil.”
“Sorry. How about thirty grand?”
Drew had to stop at that. Should she or shouldn’t she. To be sure, he could afford it. His family’s loaded. Hmmm... And there’s that RCZ... “Okay, Phil. you got a deal.”
Phil sighed, relieved. “Will you take a check?”
Drew tsked. “What do you take me for?”
“Okay, okay. Lemme get you some cash.”
He went back to the pickup and got something from the glove compartment. “Okay. Here you go.” He handed Drew an envelope full of hundred-dollar bills. Drew took them out and counted them.
“Phil? This is only twenty-nine grand.” She gave him an evil look.
“Oops! Sorry. Heheheh.” He reached inside his jacket pocket and handed her another thousand.
Drew put them in the envelope with the rest, and stuck it in the waistband of her tights. She held out her hand and they shook on it.
“Okay, Mr. Phil Cohen. Your Escalade is yours again. Lemme go in and get you the keys and the title papers.”
Drew went into the house and came back with them. She found Phil inside his car. She made him sign a “receipt” she printed up and had witnessed by Aunt Arlene (although Aunt Arlene didn’t really read it), kept a copy for herself that she had Phil sign as well, and then handed him back the car’s papers.
“You know what you signed, right? It says that your car is yours again, but you can’t complain to me if you find anything wrong with it: whatever it is will be your problem.”
Phil nodded impatiently, not really listening.
“It doesn’t want to start, Drew!”
She sighed. “Phil, I DID tell you the car’s not working.”
“Did you top up the tank? Did you check the oil? How about the radiator?”
“Its tank is one-fourth full, Phil. And can you come down here a sec?”
Drew knelt on the pavement and pointed to the asphalt underneath the car. Phil knelt down as well and looked. He saw the pavement underneath covered in oil.
“There’s your oil. Now pop the hood.”
Drew then went inside the house and came out a minute later with a bottle of water. She had Phil lift the hood, and then she took off the radiator cap off and poured the water she was carrying into the radiator.
As she poured it in, Phil noted the puddle of water that collected underneath.
“Like I said before, your car isn’t running,” Drew said.
“Well, then, how did you expect me to drive her out of...”
“Phil! I never expected you to drive it out of here! Isn’t that why you brought the pickup? So you can tow it?” Phil put a bold face on his cluelessness. “Well, sure...”
Drew scratched her head in frustration. “I’ll help you hook it up to your pickup. Now, maneuver your truck here. Who’s gonna drive the pickup?”
“Ummm...”
Drew shook her head. “Okay. Move your pickup in front of the Escalade. I’ll hook it up and you give one of your buds a call.”
“Uh, okay. Thanks, Drew.”
A little over twenty minutes later, one of his buds, Dave Evans, walked over from the bus stop.
“Eyyy! Wazzup, Phil?” And they did a semi-complicated high-five.
“Hey, Dave,” Drew said.
“Hey, Drew, how’s it going?”
“Can’t complain. Getting impatient for Phil to tow his pile of junk from the front of my house, actually.”
“No problem. Let ole’ Dave take care of everything. So, Phil, what? Did Drew just give it back?”
Before Phil could say anything, Drew cut in.
“No, I sold it back to him.”
“What? No! How much did you have to pay, Phil?”
“Thir-“
But before Phil could finish, Drew interrupted.
“I asked him to pay a bundle for it, and the chump ponied up, too.” Drew giggled theatrically.
Phil nodded, noting Drew’s look, and played along. “Yeah. Forty grand.”
“Forty grand!” Dave exclaimed. “What the fuck!”
“Yeah, dude,” Phil said. “But you know me – I’d do anything for Drew.” Phil laughed.
“Well, okay. But I think you got ripped off, Phil,” Dave snorted and gave Drew a dirty look. “Now let’s get outa here.”
“Nahhh, Phil said. ” Drew's cool. Besides...”
Dave chortled at the implication.
“Phil, you liar!” Drew exclaimed, and hit him on the shoulder so strongly, Phil thought she hit him with a baseball bat.
“Sorry, sorry!”
Phil climbed behind the pickup’s steering wheel and Dave in the Escalade, and they pulled away from the curb. “Bye, Drew,” Phil said and waved goodbye. “Good doing business with you.”
“Seeya, Phil.” And when they were safely away, Drew mumbled under her breath. “Stupid idiot...”
Drew remembered a quote from Winnie-the-Pooh, and it went, “when you are a Bear of Very Little Brain, and you Think of Things, you find sometimes that a Thing which seemed very Thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it.”
Drew resolved to call Phil Winnie the Pooh from now on.
She pulled the envelope from her back that had the money and the “bill of sale” that she had Phil sign. She fanned a big pile of crisp hundred-dollar bills. “Looks like I have a new car” she said to herself and chortled like a mad scientist from one of those B movies.
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Drew Nance Book 2: "The Hidden Staircase" by Bobbie J. Cabot Chapter Three: |
Carson had been thinking about Drew and Hawaii, and everything else - like the current life they had. Truthfully, when they started their current life, it was like it was drastically downsized. But living life as the Nances, he now had a growing circle of friends. Drew had her new friends at school and they were getting to know their neighbors. It wasn’t feeling downsized anymore.
The danger was, sometime soon, this fake life won’t be fake anymore. And if they have to leave again... Carson didn’t know if he could manage that. And what would it do to Drew?
Drew...
Sooner or later, he would have to acknowledge Drew’s personal dilemma. To be in this twilight state – not quite a girl, not quite a boy – could she grow up normally? One way or another, it has to be resolved. For her. So that she could grow up and have a normal life of her own.
The solution was simple – finish the “project” so they can drop their Nance personas and live normal ones somewhere far away from the Tate companies, from New York, from, well, everything!
But then, Drew will have to leave her friends yet again. And have to get another makeover. And would Drew even want to? Seeing her dressed in her very tight and sheer spandex one-piece had started him thinking.
He’d seen how Drew was now. In the beginning, Drew had a bit of a rocky start, play-acting as a girl. But she told him she found a little trick. Once, Drew tried to explain how she was able to do it at all. In times of doubt, Drew would say to herself, “what would Jane do?”
Drew was almost like a carbon copy of Jane now, or at least the outside image of Jane: Jane’s mannerisms, Jane’s style of dress, Jane’s behavior, Jane’s speech. Underneath, though, Drew was still one hundred percent Andy: his mind, his humor, his memories, and most especially his heart.
But, nowadays, Carson had this feeling Drew wasn’t play-acting anymore. In the beginning of their lives as the Nances, Carson found it hard to treat Drew like a girl, and Drew felt the same. But somehow, Carson got past that. The thing was, it wasn’t him – it was Drew. Somehow, Drew had accepted her role. He knew it because Drew’s casual hugs and everything else felt genuine and natural now, not feigned. He could feel it. Especially seeing her in her swimsuit (Carson will have to do some research about what gaffs are).
Drew was now like an amalgam of Jane and Andy. And she did it well. Sure, she acted like Jane – a flirty, little heartbreaker with Jane’s girly sense of fashion and outward open-minded nature. But she still had Andy’s analytical and brilliant mind and kind heart, and used her Jane-powers to help others. Sure, she would deny it, just like Andy would, and would hide her altruistic streak with a lot of fake rationalizations. If asked, she’d say she worked on her “cases” because it was fun or because it was her way to keep her “detective skills” alive (he silently laughed at that term Drew used – an old term Andy used to use all the time), and she asked to give Aunt Arlene a job because they needed help around the house, and consented to be a cheerleader because she wasn’t given a choice by Coach Stoeger.
But Carson knew that, sure, she did the “cases” because they were fun, but they were also her way of helping people. And she arranged the job for Aunt Arlene because it was her way of helping the Shaws out of a tough spot. And she decided to become a cheerleader because she wanted to give her friend Sabrina a shot at being a cheerleader – something Sabrina desperately wanted.
Of course, she wouldn’t admit to any of these but Carson knew the truth.
And there were all of those other things that he’d heard. For example, he had heard from their friend, Lieutenant Frank Hardy, that someone connected to one of the largest drug rings was caught on school premises because he tripped and spilled over half a kilo of crack cocaine on the school steps – a fairly large drug bust.
Frank said, with the little pusher in their custody, they might get some more leads and may be able shut their operation down. And Carson was fairly sure that Drew was behind it all.
She was still more Andy than Jane, at least to his eyes. And he knew no one had twigged to her “essential difference” yet, and he was confident no one ever will, so long as Drew wanted it that way.
Carson felt a little sad that his old Andy had essentially been hidden away, but whatever Drew really was, inside was still his Andy – inside his new, brilliant, sexy daughter Drew.
But would she even want to bring out Andy and become a boy again?
And as for him, Carson had a dilemma of his own as well. As successful as he was as William Fayne, he never was as successful as he was now. And he never could do all the things he could do now. It was a temptation to remain “Carson Nance.”
For example, he had just found out that he now had complete control of the Tate Foundation – one of the country’s largest philanthropic organizations. Currently, the foundation had about six billion dollars available for Foundation use. Carson felt a little giddy at what he could do for people with all that money. So far, all that the Foundation did was to fund other programs or causes, and did not run any of its own - cheaper in the short run. He knew the Foundation was in existence mostly to give the Tate companies a tax break, and for the favorable press, and he knew that he was just expected to continue this policy. But he could do so much more.
As for his real job, he was making progress in catching up. Having such a large staff at his beck and call had been a big help. Whoever had his job before him really didn’t know how to manage things. The staff had to carry the whole department by themselves and take care of things on their own, and things had been falling through the cracks. The Conglomerate’s whole legal group was a mess before he came along, but now, he was doing his best to get things on track and he had his new people chugging along and making headway on that.
It wasn’t too difficult, really. At least not for him. And as the legal snarls that the companies had found themselves in started to get unsnarled, his load had started to become manageable, and pretty soon, the department will be cruising along on its own. Mostly.
The big boss, Simon Thaddeus Tate, Senior, the chairman of the board of the Tate conglomerate, had paid him a visit that morning, to compliment him on his good work. It was also when he told Carson about the Foundation. Apparently, it was a reward of sorts.
But then, Tate started talking about his ex-wife’s grandson, and how it would be “simply terrible” if the little cokehead gets sent to prison.
Carson felt a little like the proverbial mortal being tempted by the devil from the top of the mountain. He knew this was the first step in being co-opted by this corporate juggernaut. But was this just the usual corporate nonsense that he knew existed in the upper echelons of corporate America that he was still new to, or was it the first step for him being absorbed by the same shadowy organization that they were trying to tear down?
But whatever he thought, Carson knew he could only answer one way. “No problem, Mr. Tate,” Carson said. “I’ll find a way to help.”
“Thanks for doing this favor for me, Carson.”
“Oh, it’s nothing, sir. Consider this little difficulty resolved.”
After he left, Carson buzzed for his secretary, Alice.
“Wow,” Alice said, coming in. “The boss came to visit. That’s unusual.”
“You mean he doesn’t do this normally?”
“From time to time, the boss comes down from the fiftieth floor. Especially when he needs something.”
Carson sighed. “You got that right.”
Alice sat down by his desk.
“So what do you need me to do, Mr. Nance?”
Carson sat down. “Mr. Tate was married before, right?”
“Well, he’s married now... But he used to be married to someone else. Is that what you mean?”
“Yes. What do you know about her?”
“She was a disaster. She was the worst public relations disaster Mr. Tate had to manage. It was all he could do to get shut of that woman.”
“Well, it seems the Boss isn’t completely shut of her. Can you tell me anything about his children?”
“Oh, he doesn’t have any children. But the ex-wife has several children from other marriages.”
“Well, Mr. Tate wants one of them cleared of drug possession charges.”
“Oh... I think I know which one that is.”
Carson sighed. “Yeah. Anyway, first things first – get me all of the information you can about this kid and the case. After that, we’ll see what we need to do.”
“So, you want to get the kid’s charges dropped?”
“Not necessarily. But we need to see what we can to help this kid. Maybe we can do something to help without necessarily getting the case dismissed.”
“But Mr. Tate...”
“I know, Alice. And you don’t have to tell me that it could be my job on the line.” He sighed again. “Did you know Mr. Tate just made me the chairman and CEO of the Tate Foundation? The largest non-stock, non-profit social development corporation in the world?”
“You were? My God!”
“Imagine the good we can do with the Tate Foundation, Alice! We can change the lives of so many people for the better. But... the fact Mr. Tate sprung it on me at the same time as... it’s basically a kind of...” He trailed away.
“Yes, Boss?”
“I don’t know if I should say...”
Alice didn’t need to have things spelled out for her. She knew what Carson was saying. The position in the foundation was a kind of bribe, for him to play ball. But Carson didn’t know her loyalties – would she tell on him, he probably wondered.
When she was still young and fairly new in American Amalgamated - one of the largest manufacturing and retail giants around - Alice had gotten to a high position by dint of sheer hard work and ability. After five years, she was already working as the executive assistant for the president of Amalgamated, and had power and influence. But she had heard of some shady goings-on at Amalgamated and reported it to her bosses. Plus, since she wasn’t like her contemporaries and refused to sleep around to get ahead, the following day, she had lost her position and was placed in the secretarial pool of the outsourcing division of another Tate group business unit - Tate & Company, one of the larger business consulting companies around.
She didn’t have any proof of discrimination so she couldn’t fight it. And about the rumors she had heard - there was no proof. Sure she could have resigned and found another position in a non-Tate Group company, but her connections seemed to have dried up, and no one really wanted to hire her. She was a bright girl, and she understood that someone in American Amalgamated had her blackballed for what she did.
So, because she had no choice, she stayed in the secretarial pool and did her penance for having been naïve. Her husband had divorced her by that time. Whether his divorcing her was connected with their financial difficulties or not, she never said anything, especially to her daughter.
But she gritted her teeth and, for the sake of her family, stayed on, even as a lowly temp secretary.
Over the years, she had accumulated a reputation as one of the best executive assistants in Tate & Company, and her financial and work situation stabilized as she became the top choice as the Tate Group’s most-sought-after temp secretary. She couldn’t be anything but a temp because of her reputation as a prude (That was one of the better names they used for her. Behind her back, of course.), but in time, when her looks had started to go, that was less and less of a concern. She found herself gravitating towards women executives or executives who were more concerned with work than with tail. Which was fine with her. And she continued to cement her reputation.
A little over a month ago, she found herself assigned as Carson’s temporary executive assistant. Carson appreciated her talents and was grateful for her help. Plus, the young Mr. Nance was a perfect gentleman. Alice could tell. After years of worrying about her job, she was content.
In less than a week, though, Carson had made arrangements to make her his permanent assistant, officially paving her way back into the upper echelons of the Tate Group. But she didn’t have big ambitions of climbing up the corporate ladder anymore. Still, she was pleased. And if Mr. Nance turned out not to be who he appeared to be, then it was just back to the secretarial pool. No big.
But then this had to happen. What should she do now?
After a moment, she concluded there was only one thing she could do after all.
“You don’t need to worry about me, Boss,” Alice said to Carson. “I’m your assistant. So you can trust me. I know that kind of trust doesn’t come automatically. So I leave that to you. In the meantime, you don’t have to tell me anything except what you want done, and I’ll do it.”
Carson looked at her with respect. Though she didn’t confirm her allegiance one way or another (after all, what could she say that would have made him believe her), she left him an opening to deny anything that could be construed as disloyalty to the Big Boss or whatever, yet allow him to do what he needed to do.
“Okay, Alice. Thank you.”
“No worries, Boss. I’ll get you that information you asked for right away.”
“Oh, can you also get me some information about drug rehabilitation centers in the city? Check out the ones that have reputations for discretion and...”
“I understand what you’re saying, Boss. Before the end of the day, I promise.”
Carson grinned, impressed. “Thanks, Alice.”
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Drew Nance Book 2: "The Hidden Staircase" by Bobbie J. Cabot Chapter Four: |
After Phil Cohen and Dave Evans left, Drew took the opportunity to wash down the part of the street where Phil’s Escalade dripped gallons of automotive fluids onto the pavement. She used several containers of the environmentally friendly cleaner that Otto said was good (She and her dad had to buy it at a store far from the house, and kept a couple of gallons worth in the garage), but she still flushed the crud down the drain – not exactly environmentally-friendly. At least when she used the high-pressure hose, it completely washed away the crud, and no trace of the crud was left afterrwards.
After putting away the hose, she called up Otto to make arrangements for her new RCZ.
“Hey, Drew,” Otto laughed. “We just got in. This is fast, even for you.”
Drew giggled. “What can I say, Otto? I guess I’m just as big of a motor head as Phil. So, yes?”
“Okay, the RCZ’s yours, Drew. Now do you just want it restored back to mint, or do you want to soup her up?”
She said to do it like her Tiger, but she had a few extra requests, of course: one – make the car more New York street-friendly i.e. make it so it can manage regular streets, with all of the humps, potholes, sharp turns and rough roads; two – make it more passenger-friendly i.e. easier to get in and out of, and make it an overall more comfortable ride (she didn't want to go through what she goes through with Tiger everyday); three – since the car's going to be repainted, she asked if it could be painted in a specific shade of red. Knowing the quality of Peugeot factory painting, Otto cringed at that, but Drew was the customer so he agreed. Drew promised to email him some more details later. And, four – add some more “bling” but not change the car’s lines. Drew wanted the car to look as close to stock as it could.
Otto said what she asked wouldn’t take too long. Probably less than a week since his guys basically knew what to do since they were basically just going to repicate Tiger's makeover, and since he had all the parts needed.
He promised he would call regularly about costs and progress.
After they hung up, Drew still couldn’t stop grinning.
“So, whom were you talking to that you can’t stop smiling?” Aunt Arlene said.
“Oh, nothing,” Drew giggled. “I just got some good news about my new car.”
“New car? You’re getting rid of your current one?”
“I’ll tell you about it later, Aunt Arlene. Did Callie or Iola call?”
“You just missed Iola. She said she’ll be in before seven. She didn’t sound too happy, though.”
That worried Drew. “How about Callie?”
“Callie will be here in a few. But, Drew...”
Drew sensed what she would be saying next. “Aunt Arlene! Please don’t say no!” She flung her arms around Callie’s aunt.
“Oh, Drew. It’s one thing for you girls to spend the night at Iola’s, or stay out late to go to a party. This is Hawaii. I don’t think it’s...”
“Oh, Aunt Arlene...”
“Is your father coming later?”
“I think so.”
“Okay. I guess I’ll have a word with him first.”
“Well, okay...”
The doorbell chimed.
“That’s probably Callie,” Drew said. “I’ll check.”
She went to the front door, and, sure enough, it was Callie.
“Hey, Drew,” she said glumly. “Is Aunt Arlene still here?”
Drew gave her a hug. “Hi, Callie. Yeah, she’s still here.”
“So you heard?”
“Yeah.”
“And don’t ask me to argue with her, Drew. It’s Aunt Arlene.”
“But...”
Callie shook her head.
“’Kay,” Drew reluctantly agreed.
“Well, at least we can have a nice sleepover,” Callie smiled sadly. “Is Iola here yet?”
“Not yet.”
“’Kay. Let’s go in. And, guess what?” Callie brought up a six-pack of Swamp Pop sugarcane soda. Callie had introduced it to Iola and Drew and it became their favorite drink. Sadly, only Aunt Arlene knew where to buy the delicious Louisiana soft drink since it wasn't regularly available anywhere in New York, and she wasn’t telling.
Drew clapped and got the six-pack from her. Callie brought out another six-pack from her backpack and gave Drew a razzberry.
- - - - -
Carson came in a little late. It was already eight PM.
“Hi, guys. Sorry for being late. Got stuck in some work.”
Drew got up from the couch where the three of them were listlessly talking about something.
“Hey, Pop,” she greeted him, and gave him a quick hug.
“Hey, Kid. What’s wrong?”
Drew shrugged and brought him to the dining table.
“Hey, girls,” Carson waved, and Drew’s friends said hi.
The mood was unmistakable. “Drew?”
“Oh, don’t mind us, Pop. Lemme get you some dinner.”
“How about you girls?”
“We already had dinner, Mr. Nance.”
Drew went into the kitchen and came out shortly with chicken from KFC, complete with fixings. Aunt Arlene followed with coleslaw from Rita’s, and a couple of beers.
“Hey, Arlene, you’re still here?”
“I have to leave in a while, actually – I have night duty at the hospital. But I wanted to stick around so I could talk to you.”
Drew glumly walked back to the couch.
“I take it that it’s bad news about the trip.” He gestured to Drew and the girls.
“I’m afraid so.” And they had a quiet talk while Carson had a meal of KFC Classic Chicken with KFC mashed potatoes, gravy and coleslaw.
- - - - -
“Well,” Drew said as she listlessly thumbed through an issue of Sugar. “It’s been almost thirty minutes. Guess Aunt Arlene’s told Pop about her decision. Wonder what they’re talking about now?”
“Probably not too different from what my mom and dad told me,” Iola said, her voice sounding a little resentful, as she played a first-person shooter game with Callie on Drew’s old X-Box.
“Yeah,” Callie said in the same tone. “Parents are all the same.”
“Let’s not talk about it. Let’s talk about tonight. What do you guys want to do?”
“I’m not in the mood. How about you, Iola?”
“Me, too,” Iola said.
“Come on, guys!” Drew responded. “We’re together. Let’s do something fun!”
Callie giggled. “Typical Drew.”
“Well, then, why don’t you be Typical Callie and think of something to do tonight?”
Iola giggled. “’Typical Callie.’”
“And what’s that supposed to mean, ‘Typical Iola?’” Callie said.
“I don’t know. How about you, ‘Typical Drew?’ Have any ideas about tonight?”
Drew started to giggle, too.
Pretty soon, they were having a hard time holding their laughter down – they didn’t want to disturb Carson and Aunt Arlene.
“So, what’s all this giggling about?” Carson asked mock-sternly. He and Aunt Arlene had come over from the dining area. Aunt Arlene had her bag with her so that meant she was about to leave for the hospital.
The three girls stopped, turned to look at the two adults and burst out laughing. “I’m sorry, Pop,” Drew said in between breaths.
“Sorry! Sorry!” Callie and Iola said, laughing as well.
“Well,” Carson said, “anyway, Arlene and I have talked about the trip to Hawaii.” That sobered up the girls.
“Yes?”
“Well,” Aunt Arlene began, “Carson, Mr. and Mrs. Morton and I have no real objections about you girls spending three weeks in Hawaii. It will be both fun and educational, I’m sure. But three weeks is too long for you girls to be on your own.”
“But Aunt Arlene!” Callie said, “you know you can trust us!”
“Baby, it’s not that. As your parents-slash-guardians, we have a responsibility to keep you safe.”
“Ahhh, nuts.”
“Callie, don’t be like that,” Carson said. “Your aunt is just trying to look out for you girls.”
“But, Pop,” Drew said. “We’re not kids anymore. We’re adults.”
“Barely adults, Drew. But that isn’t the point. We have a responsibility.”
“Ahhh, nuts,” Drew said, echoing Callie.
“But we have a proposal. Something that will allow you girls to go on your trip.”
The three teenagers looked at each other in hope.
“But then again, you might not like it...”
“What is it?” Callie asked.
“The main reason Arlene and the Mortons feel uncomfortable giving permission is that you have no chaperone. Even though you girls have proven that we can trust you, three weeks in Hawaii all alone is too much to ask, even for you.
“So our proposal is that a chaperone will go with you.” The three girls groaned.
“A chaperone?” Drew said. “Really?”
Carson nodded.
“And who will this chaperone be?”
Aunt Arlene cleared her throat. “I’ll be your chaperone.”
The three stopped and looked at Aunt Arlene.
“So if you can stand having me with you the whole time, then you can go.”
“Well...”
“Can we think about it?” Callie asked.
“Of course,” Carson answered. “Needless to say, I am going to foot the bill for the trip, otherwise we won’t get the seventy percent discount. So that means you guys keep your money. For sure, you’re gonna need a lot of pocket money over there. Think about it. In the meantime, I’m going to call the Mortons and tell them our idea,...”
“And I’ll talk to a friend of mine at the hospital later,” Aunt Arlene said, “and see if she and our floor supervisor will agree for me to pass on my duty hours to her for three weeks. I’m sure they’ll agree. ”
“And if those things work out, then you guys can go to Hawaii,” Carson finished. “Well?... What do you say?”
“We’ll talk it over tonight,” Drew said.
“Okay then. I’ll just walk Arlene out, and get my driver to bring her to the hospital.”
After a short round of hugs with Aunt Arlene, the two adults walked out the door.
“Well... What do you think about that?” Callie asked.
“I don’t know,” Iola said. “But with a chaperone around... With your aunt around, don’t you think that would cramp our style?”
“Our ‘style?’” Callie giggled. “What ‘style’ is that?” Iola threw one of the couch pillows at her.
“Oh, shut up!”
The sleepover wasn’t depressing anymore, but it wasn’t completely what they thought it would have been. The main topic was, of course, the trip to Hawaii, and the prospect of it pushing through.
But there was a little light at the end of the tunnel. As Carson said, they could go if Aunt Arlene would go with them.
Carson’s call to the Mortons was very helpful. After he told them that he was fine with Arlene as a chaperone, they said they were fine, too. So that meant it was all a go. If the girls agreed.
An hour later, Arlene called and said she was good to go. The only catch was that it can only be from Friday next week to the Monday seventeen days later. That was the only extended time she could get. Carson then checked with the travel agency and said that, given this, the latest that the agency coul wait for a reservation would be the Wednesday before that, otherwise, the girls won't get a Friday booking, but only the Wednesday after. That meant that they had to finalize their plans by Wednesday at the latest. The agency also emailed all the packages they had available, and the girls pored over these.
Carson took his leave at around ten, saying he wanted to go to bed early, although the girls all knew he was just giving them space for their sleepover.
The girls had changed into their nightclothes and congregated back in the living room area with some leftover chicken, sodas and snacks to talk over their latest dilemma.
Drew had worn a pastel-green shorty pajama while Iola changed into a set of long-john style girl’s pajamas. As they were setting out bowls of chips and a cooler full of cold Swamp Pop, Coke Zeros and Pepsi Max, Callie traipsed down wearing a powder-blue babydoll set, complete with a diaphanous jacket.
Drew could not look away as Callie walked over to the couch. With her little grin, Iola knew Callie was doing this deliberately to catch Drew’s eye. Iola grinned and looked to Drew, and it was clear Callie was having the effect she wanted. And if Drew wasn’t careful, she’s gonna be putty in Callie’s hands soon. That is if she wasn’t already.
- - - - -
It was their consensus that it wasn’t so bad if Aunt Arlene was with them. She was okay, as far as parental units go. But she was still a parent, or Callie's equivalent of one. And Iola said they wouldn’t be able to do the things that they wanted to do with her around.
“Well, what things would those be?” Drew giggled.
“Sexy outfits? Make out with guys? Skinny-dipping in the ocean? You know? Things!”
“Really, Iola? Skinny dipping?” Callie said.
“That’s just an example...” Iola said, and giggled herself.
“I guess Aunt Arlene would be a bit of a drag,” Drew said. “But, still – It’s Hawaii, guys!”
“True.”
“So, even if our Hawaii Trip becomes a G-Rated vacation, it’ll still be a lot of ‘family fun.’”
Iola pshawed that.
“What kind of fun could ‘family fun’ be?” Iola said.
“Iola! It’s Hawaii! Oahu? Molokai? Maui? The Big Island?”
“What’s your point, Drew?”
“Swimming? Golf? Spas? Food? Cocktails? Lava-spewing volcanoes? Beaches? Sand? Sunsets at the beach?”
“Ahhh! That kind of family fun. You have to be clear, Drew!” They all laughed.
“So? Do we go to Hawaii with Aunt Arlene?”
“Well... I guess she can come along.”
Callie giggled. “Honey, maybe it’s more like, can we come along with Aunt Arlene.”
“Simmer down. I know. Hope dragging around an old lady won’t keep the hot guys away.”
Callie giggled again.
“What’s so funny.”
“Iola, have you seen Aunt Arlene?”
“You are so full of yourself, Callie...”
“My aunt is a babe, Honey!”
“Well, she is somewhat pretty.”
“Somewhat! Honey, let’s just see if she doesn’t get more guys than all of us put together.”
“Humph! You have a high opinion of your auntie.”
“Aunt Arlene and I come from a long line of beautiful women.”
Drew and Iola simultaneously threw couch pillows at her.
“Hey!” Drew said. “That means we’re gonna need enough outfits for three weeks!” She clapped her hands at the thought of shopping.
Callie and Iola looked at each other with a worried look. Iola shook her head subtly, but turned to Drew with a cheery smile.
“That’s true!” Iola said. “What do you think? Swimsuits, sundresses and halters, I guess?”
"Depeds on what we'll be doing."
So they pored over the stuff the agency emailed and decided on a three week package that included a booking at a luxury hotel in Oahu, a guided tour of selected places on the island, seeing the memorials, a hike, swimming, beach fun (lots of beach fun), surfing (they were confident that it would be easy), an observation plane sky tour, para-sailing, ziplining and bungee jumping (well, maybe not bungee jumping...), early morning balloon flights, nights out dancing, a "shopping tour," a submarine trip, a photo safari, and golf at the end (the golf was for Drew’s dad).
But the sleepover wasn’t only about the trip. Just like it always was, they had a good time talking about everything and nothing, and just being around each other.
- - - - -
Staten Island wasn’t exactly jumping during school break. Although most places were doing okay, businesswise - with all the kids doing nothing, they had captive customers. The biggest challenge of most kids around their neighborhood was to look for something to do.
Also, crime was up. By a couple of points only, of course. Staten Island wasn’t exactly downtown Brooklyn, Koreatown or Port Morris in its crime rates. But with so many idle minds... well, crime was up, but just petty crimes, mostly. Still, Drew had started parking Tiger (her souped-up Opel Twin-Top) in their garage again.
When they were deciding on where to live, the Nances picked Staten Island partly because of the relatively low crime rate. The other part was for the car stats: Staten Island was the most car-friendly borough in the city – overall, driving in metropolitan New York wasn't a common thing except in Staten Island, where more than 83% of the families have cars and the majority use them regularly rather than commute, as opposed to the NYC average of 45%, with only 30% of working NYC people actually driving (the lowest being Manhattan, with 8%).
New York had the lowest car ownership rate in the country, with only 22% of Manhattan households having cars while Bronx was 40% and Brooklyn was 46%. Queens was fairly high at 66% but Staten Island was by far the highest as 83+%. And Drew wanted a place where she could indulge her driving, and for other people around them to be driving, too.
- - - - -
Drew’s friends remarked that Phil’s old Escalade wasn’t in front anymore and wondered if it got stolen. Drew told them she had sold it back to Phil for a bunch of money. And she said that she would be buying a new car with that money.
“What’s an RCZ anyway?” Iola said. “Is it a good kind of car?”
“It’s Peugeot’s first Sports Coupe in ten years, Iola!”
“So?”
“It’s Peugeot’s way of breaking back into the sports car market.”
“You know I don’t know anything about cars,” Callie huffed.
“Well, whatever it is, for my money, Tiger is more than good enough,” Iola giggled.
Drew grumped in frustration, and then thought of looking for some pictures of the RCZ on the net.
While she was searching, Callie casually sat on the arm of the couch Drew was sitting in.
Casually, she draped her arm around Drew’s shoulder and looked at the screen as Drew surfed. Drew gulped as she was almost nose-to-nose with Callie’s bosom, or boob-to-ear in this case – a fact Drew couldn’t ignore given how Callie was dressed. And, given Callie’s very mischievous smile, she knew it. Drew gulped.
“Okay,” Drew said, and sighed in relief when she found the pictures. She pressed the Enter key and leaned back in the couch, dislodging Callie. “Here’s the Peugeot RCZ Sports Coupe.”
Callie and Iola leaned forward.
“Wow!” Iola said. “Nice car!”
“Pretty cool!” Callie said. “But... what’ll happen to Tiger?”
“I guess I’ll have to sell her. Even what Phil paid me might not cover the cost of Arcee.”
“Oh, no!” Callie said. “We’re gonna lose Tiger?”
“Afraid so.”
“Ummm, Arcee? Oh! ‘Coz it’s a Peugeot RCZ!”
“Yeah.”
“I thought you mean the girl autobot from that cartoon. Why 'RCZ?'”
“Beats me.” Drew decided to change the subject. “Hey, you guys wanna go with me tomorrow to check out a house?”
“House?”
“It’s the house Eva Jacobs suggested as a replacement to the house she was offering.”
“Didn’t anyone tell her you guys weren’t really looking into buying another house?”
“’Course not. It would, you know, break our cover as to why we were at her place.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Thinking about Eva Jacobs brought back everything that they went through – the adventure they called “The Secret of the Old Clock.”
“Anyway, maybe you guys can go with me to check it out?”
“Oh, sorry, Drew. I promised Aunt Callie I’d spend the day with her tomorrow. Don’t want her to think I’m taking her for granted. But, it’s just for tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay.”
Callie excused herself to go to the kitchen and get some ice for her Swamp Pop.
Drew sighed and watched Callie walk to the kitchen.
“Woohoo!” Iola commented and playfully socked Drew on the shoulder.
“Owww!” Drew exclaimed. “What was that for?”
“Well, Honey, it’s obvious. Callie’s putting on the moves. Better watch it, Drew.”
Drew sighed again. “Yeah. I noticed.”
“Ummm, Drew? You okay? If you’re uncomfortable or anything, I can say something to Callie...”
“No, Iola. I appreciate it. But I don’t want to make a big deal of it.”
“You’re sure?”
“It’s okay. Besides... I kinda like it. You know?”
Iola giggled and hugged Drew around the neck.
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Drew Nance Book 2: "The Hidden Staircase" by Bobbie J. Cabot Chapter Five: |
At around two in the morning, sleepiness made them want to turn in. Drew was thankful that her bed was Queen-sized, so there was enough room for all three of them. And, though they intended to sleep already, they ended up talking until almost four.
In the morning, Carson took a peek inside Drew’s room and saw the three of them. Drew was in the center and her two friends were curled around her. Iola had her right hand and arm over Drew’s waist and Callie had her left hand on one of Drew’s breasts. All three of them were snoring softly.
Carson chuckled quietly and closed the door, deciding to let them sleep. He didn’t know exactly how to feel about what he just saw. On the one hand, he had a bit of a kind of pride to know that his kid had two beautiful girls. It wasn’t an enlightened point of view for a father, but that was what he felt. But then again, the girls weren’t “hers.” He knew they were best friends, and Drew said it was platonic. And he knew that was the truth based on how she acted around them. And if it wasn’t platonic, Drew was supposed to be a girl, after all. That would mean the girls would have to be into girls for something to happen.
Actually, he mostly felt jealous of Drew. When he was in high school, he never had two girls in bed, let alone that pretty, and he thought Drew lucky that, in her guise as a girl, she had opportunities like that.
But he trusted Drew, and the fact that she kept her room’s door open and ajar meant she wasn’t hiding anything. And, presumably, the girls knew that the door was open so they wouldn’t have been doing anything that they weren’t supposed to be doing.
As he walked downstairs, he thought about it. In the conscious part of his mind, what he worried about was Drew being found out. But if Drew felt comfortable enough to go and sleep with people right beside her, then he knew she was very confident with her disguise. Still, he worried. In fact, he wouldn’t even have considered their Hawaii trip if he wasn’t confident in her ability to protect her identity.
He thought about why he thought of a Hawaii trip. After all, the agency offered other tours where the danger of Drew being found out was so much less. He had leafed through some brochures for a cruise to the Arctic, a hiking tour of Yosemite, and a cultural tour of Tokyo. He picked Hawaii... a Hawaii trip was the natural selection for a family vacation. All things being equal, a trip to Hawaii would have been the natural choice, but then again, his family wasn’t the run-of-the-mill family.
As he put up some coffee to brew, he thought that through. In the end, he had to conclude that, either he was confident of Drew maintaining the subterfuge, or he really thought of Drew as a girl. Subconsciously.
That idea bothered him, sure, but at the moment, he was bothered more about Callie’s hand on Drew’s breast while wearing that very skimpy nightie.
He put some coffee in a thermos mug and decided to leave early for work. He needed some distance.
- - - - -
The girls woke up at around ten. It was mostly because of Drew yawning and stretching that everyone woke up. Iola gave Drew a hug but no kiss on the cheek. “Sorry,” Iola mumbled. “Morning breath.” She got up and went to the bathroom.
Callie, still half asleep, mumbled sleepily and snuggled further against Drew.
“Good morning, Cal,” Drew said, and belatedly noticed that Callie was fondling her left boob.
Drew gently lifted her hand from her breast, but as soon as she let go, Callie put it back again.
Drew sighed a little exasperatedly. And then, Callie started massaging it. That really woke Drew up. Wearing gaffs were never really comfortable. And this discomfort sort of helped her keep things under control. But her proximity to Callie, her feminine scent, her sexy nightie and what she was doing to her breast was definitely making it difficult to maintain her control on things. And it was starting to become a little painful as she strained against the restrictive gaff.
These things were one of the more frustrating things about her life as Drew. She lifted Callie’s hand again, and gently shook her awake.
“Callie, Honey,” Drew said. “It’s half past ten. Time to wake up.”
Callie fluttered her eyes open.
“Good morning, my love,” Callie said in a sultry, half-asleep voice, and that sounded so sexy to Drew.
Callie leaned forward and gave Drew a kiss on the lips. It wasn’t meant to be sexy. Just a short peck, but Drew started blushing fiercely.
Callie giggled sleepily at that. And then the time dawned on her. “Oh, no! It’s after ten? Omigod, I’m late!”
She sat up and scrambled for her purse. “I gotta call Aunt Arlene! I promised to pass by for her and we’d go home together. And I’m late!” She went out into the hall to talk to her aunt.
Drew sat up. She sighed, a bit in relief and a bit in confusion. The way Callie was affecting her, she was definitely in trouble.
She went to her bathroom and took her toothbrush down. As she brushed her teeth, she thought of waking up beside the girls, but mostly about waking up beside Callie. And the fact that she had her hand on her left breast. Drew had to come to some kind of decision about her relationship with Callie eventually.
As she brushed her teeth and dreamily thought about Callie, Iola suddenly appearing by her elbow and reaching for the toothpaste tube surprised her. Apparently, Iola was on the toilet when she came in.
“Aaah!” Drew shrieked.
“Good morning, Drew,” Iola nonchalantly started to brush her teeth.
“Ummm,” Drew said as she started dribbling from the mouth.
“Hey, guys,” Callie said. She came directly into the bathroom and went to the toilet. She pulled down her flimsy panties and sat down. The sound of water hitting porcelain was loud in the bath. “I talked to Aunt Arlene,“ she said while she peed ”I apologized for being late but she’s fine to wait if I can come by before twelve. Do you think we can make it?”
“You really had to go, huh,” Iola said over the sound of her peeing.
“Swamp Pop and soda, you know,” Callie said.
Drew rinsed her mouth quickly. “I think I’ll make us some coffee and something to eat.” She rushed out of the bath.
“Hmmm,” Iola said.
“I think we made Drew uncomfortable,” Callie said. She wiped, flushed, stood up and pulled up her panties. “What’s up with that?”
“Drew’s not too comfortable sharing the bathroom, I guess. If you think about it, she has no brothers or sisters.” She washed her hands and started brushing as well.
“And the Nances are loaded, too. She never did have to share a bathroom if she didn’t want to. This house has six bathrooms! And this one’s exclusively hers. We only have two in ours.”
“Do you think we have to apologize?”
“I don’t know. Just ignore it, and brush your teeth.”
Over a quick brunch, Callie and Iola apologized to Drew. They used the other bathrooms to shower and get ready, and Drew had enough privacy to get ready herself.
Drew brought Iola home and dropped Callie at the hospital. She told them she had an errand to run: she had to meet up with Eva Jacobs to see the house she wanted to show her.
She couldn’t really tell Eva that they really weren’t in the market for a house but she didn’t have the heart for it, so she went.
She looked at her phone to confirm the address. Pretty soon, she was pulling over behind a very well maintained sixty-year-old canary yellow-on-white Plymouth.
“Hey, Ms Jacobs,” she called and gave her a hug.
“Hi, Drew!” the older lady said delightedly, and returned the hug. “So how are you doing?”
“Pretty good. Hey, when you said the house was near the shore, I didn’t know how close.”
“Yes. It’s also pretty close to the St. George Terminal where the Staten Island Ferry to Manhattan docks. It’s on the boardwalk, practically.” She gestured to a simple two-story place. (Drew tried not to be a smart-aleck and say, “yes, I know.”)
“Here it is,” she said. “Two bedrooms on the top floor, a kitchen, living area and bathroom on the ground floor. There’s a through-garage attached.”
It was at the corner of a whole row of newly renovated and reconstructed houses. It was in a part of the newly renewed section of St. George very near the edge of the water.
The area was hit very badly by the hurricane several years ago. These were the houses that were devastated and reconstructed. In this particular area, very few of the original owners stayed. Most of them sold their property to new families and professionals that mostly lived off-island, so the place was quiet most of the week since their new owners and occupants were mostly off-island working.
This particular house Ms Jacobs was showing her was a fairly small, rectangular two-story one on the corner of the row of houses, and was surrounded by a shoulder-high hedge. The hedge was newly planted, as well as trees and saplings at the back.
They stepped in the house.
“What’s a through-garage anyway?”
“It’s a narrow one-car garage that opens on both ends, and allows you to drive your car through it. This particular one’s long enough that you can park two cars in there back to back. Of course, needless to say, you cannot pass your car through anymore if you do.”
“Very unusual kind of garage, in any case.”
“It’s usually the kind of garage they put near brownstones in New York, to maximize the use of narrow spaces and give brownstone owners a garage to park their cars in. A few brownstones do have such garages. And given the small size of this particular house, it seemed appropriate. I guess the original owners were from mainland New York. And it’s the only one here with a super-narrow one-port garage, or what looks like a one-port garage. The rest are regular garages.
“As you know, if you’re in Staten Island, you have to be driving a car. The island is the only place in the five boroughs where the majority of people own a car. The garage was a late addition to the house by the owners to try and up its value and appeal.”
Drew looked through the front windows. “Nice view of the water.” She looked through the left and right windows and had a fairly large view of the street to the right, and the neighbor’s house to the left. She looked at the window on the far side, near the kitchen. “Hey, lots of trees. Nice.”
“The other end faces towards the back of a bunch of new houses also just rebuilt, and are full of new families. So the people on this block put lots of trees and bushes behind the back of their houses, to hide their houses from their new neighbors.”
“Nice. Can I see the upstairs?”
They climbed the short single-flight stairway and came out to a connecting hall that connected two rooms – one facing back and one facing towards the water. Each one was a fairly large room, the one facing the water had a terrace and large wide windows on three sides while the other room had regular ones.
Drew went to the front room and stepped out on the terrace. She liked the view a lot. She went back in and looked up, noting the trapdoor to what probably was an attic crawlspace. She didn’t bother to look in there and went to the other room and looked around. Pretty much the same as the other one except for the window sizes.
“It’s a pretty nice little house, Ms Jacobs. I like it. But...”
“You and your father decide, Drew. Here’s the card of the realtor. I’m not getting any kind of commission or anything. I just told them I owed a favor to this family looking for a new house and asked if I could show them this one.”
“They must have thought that was very weird – a stranger wanting to show a house for no commission.”
Ms Jacobs laughed. “True. But I guess they were desperate to unload the property. They did offer a commission, but I said no, and just apply it as a discount on the property’s list price. Although it’s freshly constructed, because property sales by the water around here hasn’t picked up after the hurricane, there have been no takers.”
Drew nodded. And then she started thinking. She brought out her phone and started snapping pictures. “Did you tell them who we were?” she asked Ms Jacobs.
“No,” she answered. “All I said was I knew someone, but wasn’t specific. Should I have?”
“Oh, no need.” Drew was starting to get some ideas.
“So... are you interested?”
“I’ll talk to my dad and see if he would be interested. In any case, whether or not we get it, you can consider the favor returned.” They walked back out to the sidewalk.
“Well, that’s good.” She smiled. “Just wanted to help.”
Drew gave her a hug. “You did. Thank you.”
“Hey, I have a couple of tickets to a Concert In the Park thing this week weekend. My newspaper got them for me, but I’m afraid it’s not my type of concert. Would you want them?”
“Central Park? If it’s Beethoven or anything like that...” Drew made a face.
“Yes, it’s Central Park, but it’s not Beethoven. It’s a promotional concert by one of these music companies.”
“What recording company?”
“Ah, no, not a recording company. I think they make musical instruments. Guitars, I think. They’re promoting a new pop band, I think. And my nieces seem to think they’re good.”
“Well... can you make it three tickets?”
Ms Jacobs laughed, and fanned out three tickets. “Well, what do you know? Apparently I have exactly three tickets.”
Drew laughed and gave her another hug. “Thank you Evvie,” Drew giggled.
“No worries. Tell Iola and Callie hi for me. And come by my house in Riverdale. I’ll give you guys a nice home-cooked Beef Stroganoff.”
“I will. I’ll give you a call.” She walked Ms Jacobs back to her car. “By the way, nice car.”
It was a lemon-yellow-and-white two-door 1956 Ford Fairlane Victoria Six with lots of chrome trim.
“Nice, huh? It’s was actually Marlee’s. I had it overhauled, converted and repainted by that friend of yours. You know? Otto?” She got in and turned the ignition on.
“Well, she looks real nice. Sounds nice, too.”
“Thanks. Well, see you, Honey. Don’t forget to call, okay?”
“It’s a date. Seeya, Evvie.”
As Drew watched Eva drive towards the St. George Terminal for her short ferry ride back to Manhattan, Drew started thinking.
She got in her car, grabbed her crappy burner phone from the glove compartment and clicked one of the only three phone numbers saved on that particular phone. There was Carson’s burner phone, Lieutenant Hardy’s and Nurse Sally’s. She clicked Lieutenant Hardy’s.
“Hello, Lieutenant? Hi... Oh, no – nothing’s wrong. But I wanna meet. Three o’clock at the usual place? ‘kay. Seeya then.” She hung up and noted the time. Fifteen seconds on the phone. That was good. As required by their friend, New York Police Lieutenant Frank Hardy, they can only use their burner phones for thirty seconds or less to prevent tracing. Of course, Drew knew that was bunk since the records would be saved in the telco’s servers, and a printout of her calls could be made if they knew her number. But far be it for Drew to contradict the lieutenant.
Anyway, her meeting with him at three o’clock meant she had about one hour and thirty minutes to get to Manhattan. She could have actually ridden the ferry along with Eva but since she didn’t, that meant she had to wait for thirty minutes for the next one. It was just as well because she had time to go back to their house and get one of the smaller-valued bearer bonds from inside their secret safe.
Fifteen minutes later, she was at the St. George ferry station, got a ticket and pulled up in line. While she waited, she bought a big sour-cream-and-onion soft pretzel, parked her car in line for the ferry and started making notes about her new scheme while she munched.
Soon, she was parking in her dad’s building. She had called her dad beforehand, but Carson was a little too busy so she decided not to go up to visit. She said that she’ll just park in her dad’s spot, and go and have a Big Mac in McDonald’s.
Those were, of course, code. The redundant statement of having a Big Mac in McDonald’s meant she had a meeting with Lieutenant Hardy in, where else, their “favorite” McDonald’s.
There was one other time that they had to use the codes that they had agreed with Lieutenant Hardy. That was when they found that little bug. The code for a bug was “pizza for dinner.” They had many other codes, and hopefully they won’t be used anytime soon.
Carson replied that he liked the vegetable and cheese that they used in their burgers. Drew winced – obviously, Carson tried hard to get “vegetable and cheese” in the conversation, the code phrase that meant he understood. His effort didn’t sound too natural, but at least he was able to get his meaning across.
Anyway, Drew parked in the first available visitor’s parking in the underground car park in Tate Center, put the burner phone in her purse, and walked the four blocks to the McDonald’s that Lieutenant Hardy had specified was their standard meeting place.
She fell in line and got a small fries, small chicken nuggets and small diet Coke.
She then went to the farthest corner. Normally, that area would have been empty. With two wall pillars, the tables of the restaurant would not have fit, given the small area and weirdly shaped space. But this time, there was a table there. Before someone else could snake Drew out of the table, she had gotten there and quickly sat down.
A special undersized, specially shaped table was specially built to fit the little secluded corner. Normally, that table would have been in storage but Lieutenant Hardy would arrange to have it put there if he had to secretly meet with someone. The pillars acted as natural duck blinds so no one in the restaurant would see the people sitting at the table if they leaned back a bit. And the restaurant owner did regular sweeps for bugs. He also made sure that the area remained a blind spot of the security cams.
Frank Hardy’s older brother Joe used to be in the force, too (he was a police sergeant), But because of an injury, he was transferred to desk duty. And knowing he wouldn’t be able to get back to regular duty, he decided to retire early and buy a McDonald’s franchise with some friends. And, as a favor to his kid brother, Joe Hardy would keep his place free of surveillance bugs and set up that little area in case of any private interviews that Frank needed to have.
So Drew sat in the little cubby-like booth and enjoyed her fries, nuggets and soda. At exactly three PM, Lieutenant Hardy showed up and sat down with a very large Coke. “Hey, kid,” Hardy said. “How’re you and your dad?”
“Doing okay, Lieutenant.” She told him the latest with them – like her dad’s getting to know the top executives of Tate (she left it to her dad to update him more thoroughly on that), Aunt Arlene getting a part-time job as their house help, their pending trip to Hawaii, that she sold Phil back his car, and she used that money to buy a reconditioned Peugeot RCZ Sports Coupe. (It was part of their agreement to keep him up-to-date with any Nance Family goings-on, so this wasn’t really chitchat, though it felt like it.)
“You know, Kid,” Frank said, “when you go through the airport on your trip, you’ll probably trigger an anomaly in the airport body scanners.”
“Anomaly? What ‘anomaly?’ Well, this’ll be my first time at the airport, so I don’t know...”
“It’s no big deal. It’s just that your gender on your ID might not match what their scanners detect, or your implants might show up, but all that will mean is that they might pat you down.”
“That’s it?”
“Yep. But I will give you a letter, which will detail your implants, and it’ll identify you as transgender. Keep this in your bag and only bring it out when they have an issue.”
“But won’t that like give me away to my friends?”
“Just find a way so that they go ahead of you, and they won’t hear any kind of issues. I’ll try and be nearby so that I can smooth things out if need be.”
“How about in Hawaii?”
“I won’t be around to help, but I think the letter will suffice.”
“This makes me worry, Frank...”
“Me, too, kid. I don’t think there will be any trouble, but worse comes to worse and an ‘anomaly’ is triggered, the TSA folks will definitely assume you’re transgender. So it’s best that your friends not be around for that.”
“But... if that happens, won’t that be recorded somewhere?”
“I’ll expunge any record of it, don’t worry.”
“Whew. But... should I still push on with this trip?”
“It’s your call, but I think it’ll be okay. You can’t keep on hiding.
“So... A Peugeot, huh? Pretty flash for a girl,” Frank grinned as he deftly changed the topic. “At least no new ‘cases.’ You know how I feel about your ‘cases,’ Kid, right?”
“Yes, yes. I will be careful and all that...”
“I’d rather you don’t do them anymore, but ‘nuff said: it’s your decision. Anyway, we need to finish this quick. Prying eyes and so forth. So, what’s up? Why the meeting?”
“Okay. Well, first, everything’s fine, like I said, and lots happening. But I had thought of something, and I wanted to pass it by you.”
“Okay. Shoot.”
“I came across a house for sale near our current place.” She slid her phone towards Joe, and Joe paged through the pictures.
“Nice little house,” he said. “So?”
“We’re worried about people keeping our place under surveillance, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, assume that we had another place that no one knew about. Where we can keep all of our, ummm, ‘secret’ stuff. Some place near enough to our current place so we can get to it easily, but far enough away that no one can connect it to us.”
“Well, that would be convenient. Of course, we’d need to make sure that you’d be unobserved going there or leaving.”
“Right. So lemme tell you about the new place.”
She told him that the place was practically rebuilt from scratch with lots of new shrubbery lining the roads, and many trees with foliage enough to obscure passing cars. Also, the houses nearby were mostly rebuilt houses owned by a lot of young professionals that worked in the mainland. This meant that the neighborhood was mostly deserted during the workweek.
She then described the house and Frank said it looked like a good place to set up as a safe house – very clean and new, a simple layout so no places to hide anything, and the surrounding areas were easily surveyed from the inside of the house.
Frank agreed, and said it could be made safe like a CIA safe house.
“Well, okay,” Drew said, “but I’d like it not to be under surveillance, even by your guys.”
“Are you kidding, Kid? Of course, I won’t have it under surveillance. The whole point of all this skulking around is to not leave any kind of connections between them, you and me. So, of course I won’t have it under surveillance. As far as I’m concerned, this is just a random house in Staten Island.”
“Okay. Point taken.”
So,” he chuckled. “Here’s what we need to do...”
Frank Hardy discussed the steps they needed to take to convert the place into a safe house.
Firstly, they needed to purchase the place anonymously. Frank had enough anonymous names in the Witness Protection Program that they can use as the anonymous “buyers.” Drew turned over the bearer bond that was worth enough to buy the place plus a lot extra left over.
Secondly, Drew needed to talk to Eva Jacobs and tell her that someone beat them to the house. That way, that particular connection to the house was severed, and Eva Jacobs won’t ask any awkward questions, or actually visit the place.
Third, Frank would use the contractors that he had on tap to check out the place, do some renovations, and outfit it as well – like with furniture, appliances and other essential things.
Drew wrote down a short list of stuff that she thought she’d need – mostly normal stuff, but there were a lot of unusual stuff: several power tools, rolls of that Faraday Cage material she used liberally at their house, lots of thumb tacks, wallpaper, extra carpeting material, an air gapped computer, several portable radio signal detectors and nonlinear junction detectors, several high-quality motion-triggered surveillance cameras, and several timer switches. She wrote with her right hand in order to disguise her handwriting (she had shifted to using the left to write when she began her life as Drew).
Drew also asked for some specific “upgrades” to the house – things like re-finishing the back garage door with veneer to make it look like part of the wall instead of a garage door, change the garage door controls, change the garage door itself and the outside door to anti-intrusion doors, and to put some more trees to line the back and the surrounding curb.
There were some more but those were the most visible changes.
She also asked to line the entire length of the road out back with tall, leafy ornamental trees.
Obviously, this was to obscure any cars passing through the back street from the houses.
Drew’s last requests regarding the fix-up were to cover the entire floor with decorative tile – a specific kind – a certain ceramic Mexican tile that came in one-foot by one-foot squares. She also asked if he could have safety bars put in the windows but make them look decorative, change the window glass to frosted bulletproof glass, and also have power breakers and a water cutoff installed inside. Hardy agreed with these changes as they would make the house safer. He didn’t understand the need for the tile, though. Maybe Drew just liked the tiles, he assumed.
Frank said he’d use the leftover cash from the bearer bond to cover the expense for all this. Hopefully, it would be enough. Otherwise, he couldn’t do it. So he had Drew prioritize the changes in case he couldn’t do all of it and have to drop some of them.
Drew asked if it was okay to get a new car. She had been thinking of getting one so that she could use to get around without her being recognized as Drew. Hardy looked at her very skeptically. Drew tried to rationalize it, and said that driving into the house via a car gave her a reasonable method of ignoring others while she went up to the house. Otherwise, she had to find creative ways to avoid people if she went on foot without looking like she was avoiding them.
Hardy chuckled and said that he could tell that she really just wanted a new car, and was looking at him to justify it. But he agreed and said he’d need the specs of the car so that he could “anonymize” it with the proper license plates, VIN number, stickers, registration documents with the DMV, erase the records of the original ones, et cetera. Drew said that wasn’t a problem – she had all the details including the make, model and color of the car she had in mind. She also asked to have the registration made out to someone named Rose. Frank said that was easily done, and would include a driver’s license in the package, so Drew gave him details of that fictitious driver. Essentially, it was her with straight, long brunette hair, twenty-one years old, of some independent means, maybe a book writer that was just starting out.
They wrapped things up, with Frank promising to find a way to dead-drop the key for the new house, all the paperwork and the letter from the government. After that, without any further word, Frank left.
Drew took her time to finish her fries so that it wouldn’t look like they were together, and after ten minutes, she left McDonald’s as casually as Frank.
As she walked down the street, she called up Otto on her regular phone.
“Hi, Otto, it’s Drew. Listen, After you’re through with the RCZ, can you handle another project? A small one – just a paint job. What? Yeah, you’re right. Can do? Okay, I’ll email you the details later. Thanks!” She hung up and walked back up to downtown Manhattan to do some window-shopping.
After an hour of walking around and looking at stuff, she realized something. Though she never flaunted it, especially to her best friends, she realized that she was so much richer than them. And her casual suggestion of shopping might not have been a good idea. She thought of ways to fix it. While she was thinking and scheming, her burner phone pinged. She checked it out and it was Nurse Sally sending her a text.
“I’m not feeling well,” Nurse Sally texted, which was a code phrase again, that meant they wanted her to come visit her at the clinic. Drew thought there might be something wrong, dropped the blouse she was looking at and texted her back right away.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Drew texted back. “I’ll bring a vegetable and cheese pizza later at around five.”
She started to worry what it could be while she rode a taxi to Queens. She asked to be dropped off a block away from Doctor Joe’s - what some people called the “country’s most expensive small clinic.”
Few people called it that, however, since it was a secret surgical clinic that very few knew about, and was only used by certain famous celebrities and some law enforcement agencies when they needed some confidential plastic surgery done. “Doctor Joe” and his assistant, “Nurse Sally,” did the work, no questions asked, and their patients were released with none of them the wiser.
Doctor Joe and Nurse Sally were actually the good guys, and were also as good a plastic surgeon and surgical nurse that lost their licenses to practice could be, that is. And they only accepted commissions if they thought the surgery wasn’t for any... sinister purposes.
The two were, in fact, responsible for the surgical procedures that changed Bill and Andy Fayne to Carson and Drew Nance, and Nurse Sally kept in touch with them to see how their procedures held up.
The operations they had weren’t big deal procedures – Carson only had a facelift and nose job while Andy had a facelift, an adam’s apple shave, a full FFS procedure including a nose job, a whole-body electrolysis, lipo and body sculpting, and a breast implant (The FFS wasn’t too drastic because Andy looked a lot like his cousin Jane to begin with).
Though they weren’t much different from their other clients, Nurse Sally was quite fascinated with Drew’s change from boy to girl, and was very excited about changing her completely into a girl. They haven’t done an SRS yet, and she was very excited at the idea. To her it was almost like a fetish thing.
It wasn’t hard to believe that of Nurse Sally, given her piercings, over-inflated chest and over-botoxed lips. She could have been a star on American Ink or something, and would look comfortable on the arm of some biker.
Carson and Drew had repeatedly said no to her suggestions of an SRS, but she pursued it. Drew had to admit that Sally was a very, very competent medical practitioner, as was Dr. Joe. Plus, she was very helpful in maintaining Drew’s cover. For example, she was the one who taught Drew female deportment, taught her how to use lotions and soaking in baths to keep her skin femininely soft, got her vitamins and other supplements for better hair and complexion, coached her on improving her female voice, and did the electrolysis and laser procedures to remove Drew’s body hair.
But Nurse Sally’s single-minded obsession to give Drew an SRS was troubling. Drew hoped that the text she got from her wasn’t about yet another campaign to convince her to proceed with the surgery.
Drew rang the bell of the normal-looking house in Queens, and after a moment, she was buzzed in.
“Hello,” Drew called. “Doctor Joe? Sally? It’s Drew.”
“Come on up, Drew,” Nurse Sally called. “We’re upstairs.”
Drew climbed up to the second floor, and, after opening the door at the top of the stairs, stepped into the most advanced surgical facility in the country not affiliated with any hospital, government agency or educational institution. But, aside from the medical equipment lying around, it looked very like Monica’s and Rachel’s apartment from the nineties TV show, “Friends.”
The two main bedrooms were outfitted as modern surgical theaters, and a third one was like a small dormitory with two three-person bunk beds against two of the walls, a bank of dressers on the other, and a large walk-in closet on the wall across. The entire apartment also had no windows. (Dr. Joe and Nurse Sally had their own private rooms on the third floor.)
Drew was familiar with the place, having spent a month there recovering from Dr. Joe’s procedures, which turned him from an androgynous boy to Drew, the hot and glamorous heartbreaker of the Staten Island teenage set.
“Hey, Drew,” Nurse Sally came over and gave her a hug.
“Hey there, Sexy. So, where’s Dr. Joe?”
She gestured to the couch. “He’s doing one of his thousand-piece jigsaw puzzles.”
“What is it this time?” Drew giggled.
“This one’s a picture of a ‘Cacatua Ophthalmica,’” Dr. Joe explained.
“Whatinheck’s that?”
“It’s the scientific name fro the Blue-eyed Cockatoo.”
“Ahhh!” Drew and Sally both giggled.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Joe,” Drew said finally.
“My dear!” he smiled, stood up, and gave Drew a big hug.
He pulled back and started fondling Drew’s breasts. She was so shocked she couldn’t move.
“They’re holding up pretty good,” he said. He then started turning Drew’s face from side to side. “Also the facial surgeries – they’re holding up pretty good. I do great work.”
He then leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“So, my dear,” he said, “what are you doing here?”
“Sally gave me a call. Guess she wanted to talk to me about something.”
“Yeah, Dr. Joe,” Nurse Sally said. “So can you excuse us?”
“Of course,” he said, and went back to his puzzle.
“Let’s go to the bedroom,” Nurse Sally said and pulled Drew to the dormitory room.
Drew went passively and sat on one of the lower level bunkbeds.
“Okay. Now, what’s this about, Sally? Something wrong?”
“Oh, no! Nothing’s wrong. It’s just that Lieutenant Hardy gave us a call. He said you’re planning a vacation in Hawaii?”
“Well, yes. Why?”
“It’s just that, you know – Hawaii?”
“What about Hawaii?”
Hawaii? Sand and surf? Swimming? Et cetera, et cetera.”
That sounded familiar to Drew. “Is that bad in some way?”
“Oh, no! That’s all fun. Of course. It’s just that...”
“Spit it out already, Sally.”
“It’s just that sea water and strong sunlight would have some adverse effects on the skin and all, and...”
“Oh, no! Scars?”
“Oh, not at all! It’s a common fallacy that sunburn or suntans can affect plastic surgery scars and sutures. At least properly-done plastic surgery. It’s not that. It’s just that a vacation at a place like Hawaii would dry out the skin a lot, sweat out a lot of moisture, enzymes and oils.”
“So I’ll use a lot of suntan lotion.”
“Well, I guess that might help. But it’s just that, with all the work we’ve done, we might lose all of it., especially after all the trouble that you go through to look like a genuine girl.”
“Oh, no, no no! If this is another pitch for an SRS, forget it! And no hormone therapy! I am very happy with my current plumbing, okay? And no one, not you, not Dr. Joe, will touch it, cut it up or shrivel it up. ‘Kay?”
Nurse Sally sighed. “Okay. But that’s not what I’m suggesting. Nothing radical, at all. Here you go.”
She passed her a white plastic pill bottle just like the bottles her multivitamin pills came in, except this one was about a fifth the size, and, instead of a regular label, it had a picture of a sexy girl dancing. She looked like a disco girl from the eighties that was dancing to some boy-band tune, covered in dark eyeshadow glitter, a tight, spangly spandex mini-dress, big shoulderpads in her bolero-style jacket, and her hair puffed out with probably a ton of hairspray.
Drew had to chuckle. “What’s this?” Drew asked. “Some kind of eighties-era Ecstasy?”
Nurse Sally laughed. “Forget the label. These come from Sweden, and Swedish advertising is definitely unique.” Drew read the label: “Sats Fjorton.
“Hey, that sounds like my current one. How do you pronounce this?”
“It’s pronounced sats few-tong. Or something like that. It's made by the same company.”
“So, is this like my current pills?”
“Well, sort of. Your current ones, your Sats Sju pills, they’re daily vitamins and supplements. These new ones are just like that, except they’re monthly ones. They’re like time-release pills. Well, not really. But if you take one of them, you’re good for a month.”
"How's that even possible?"
Sally shrugged. "Beats me."
“Anyway, that sounds neat. Why couldn’t I get these instead of my current ones?”
“Well, these are at least twenty times more expensive.”
“We can afford it.”
“Also, orders for these are hard to fill. They don’t make a lot of these, actually. That’s mainly the reason they’re expensive. But I managed to get a couple of bottles. Direct from Sweden.”
“You know, I don’t get why I can’t use regular multivitamins and have to stick with these sats stuff.”
Nurse Sally sighed. “Regular vitamins are crap. And they won’t give you shinier hair or softer skin or stronger nails, or...”
“Sally, I have to ask – are they just vitamins? Really? Please tell me. I don’t want my...”
“Drew! I told you before - you’re not in any danger, and it doesn’t affect you in any way except give you softer skin and all that. And your thing is safe; don’t worry. They’re just harmless supplements!”
“My thing?”
“You know. That's what you were asking about, right?” She gestured towards Drew’s crotch. “Your thing?”
Drew blushed, and Nurse Sally laughed at her embarrassment.
“They’re just dietary supplements, Drew. FDA-approved, safe and available for over-the-counter sale.”
“But they’re not available...”
“True - not locally available, but available in Sweden, but that’s just because the production is very low so very little gets here, and they aren’t advertised very well. Just look at that picture! Even in Sweden, it's only available in very select health stores.”
“Okay, okay. But why did you bring this up? Why the, ummm, Sats Few-tone?"
Nurse Sally giggled. “It’s pronounced ‘Sats Fyootong.’ And your old ones are pronounced ‘Sats Hooo.’”
“Okay. So what’s with this ‘Sats Fyootong? Why offer it to me now?”
“Well, the daily pills I can get locally, but these ones - these monthly ones - I had to have specially ordered. Sorry! Twenty-eight days, I mean, not monthly. And if you’re gonna be busy with swimming and partying and all of that, with these pills, you don’t have to spend hours in the bathtub soaking, or lathering yourself with moisturizer twice a day. With these,” she gestured at the bottle in Drew’s hand, “you take one just before you leave for Hawaii, and you’re good for twenty-eight days. No need for the bathtub or the moisturizers, and your friends won’t become suspicious. At least about your bathtub and moisturizer mania.”
Drew nodded. “Twenty-eight isn’t really a round number,” she said suspiciously.
“Well, it’s advertised as a monthly supplement. But the people who made it knew the length of time of peak affectivity for the pill is twenty-eight days. You know how very exacting the Swiss are.”
Drew opened the bottle, took out the cotton and picked out one of them. “Big-ass pill,” Drew said.
“It’s a capsule.”
She looked into the bottle. “There’s, let’s see – there are only thirteen pills. Why thirteen pills? I mean, capsules.”
“It’s a one-year supply.”
If it’s a one-year supply, shouldn’t it be twelve pills? I mean, capsules?”
“Well, it’s twenty-eight days per capsule.”
“Oh, I forgot - sorry!”
“Anyway, that’s why I texted you – to give you the new pills.”
“Capsules, Sally.”
Nurse Sally playfully socked Drew on the shoulder. “Smarty-pants.”
“Listen – while I’m here, I wanted to ask something.”
“Yes?”
“In order to, you know, to not be found out, I have to wear, ummm, you know –“
“Yes, gaffs. I recommended them, remember?”
“It’s just that, you know, I end up wearing them almost everyday now.”
“What’s the question?”
Well, I just wanted to know, if that’s, ummm, if that’s bad for me. Or something.”
Nurse Sally chuckled at Drew’s blushing.
“Well,” she said, “prolonged use doesn’t really damage anything, but it could distend the scrotum.”
“Is that bad?”
“Not necessarily, but your balls may end up hanging lower than normal. And if you push your testicles into your abdominal cavity regularly, that could cause sterility if you do that often enough.”
“I don’t do that.”
“Well, you should be fine then. Also, to be safe, it’s best if you only wear gaffs six or seven days out of every ten. Try not to wear one as often as you can. As for your vacation, wearing one everyday during your vacation won't do anything permanant.”
“Okay. Thanks for the advice.”
“Of course, you know, if you had the operation, you’d not have that kind of problem anymore.” She looked at Drew and comically waggled her eyebrows up and down.
“Sally! I said no! Enough about SRS already!”
“Dammit...” Nurse Sally mumbled.
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Drew Nance Book 2: "The Hidden Staircase" by Bobbie J. Cabot Chapter Six: |
Drew, Callie and Iola decided to do their shopping for the Hawaii trip the following day, so Drew woke up at around six to be able to do her routine and still pick up the girls before eight and beat the traffic.
After she picked them up, she started making her way to the Goethals Bridge.
“Ummm, Drew?” Iola said worriedly. “Where are we going? This is not going towards Verrazano or the Ferry.”
“We’re going the opposite way,” Drew said.
“I thought we were going to Manhattan.” Callie asked.
“There’s no sales tax on clothes and shoes over in New Jersey, so...”
Callie and Iola looked at each other. "Omigod," Iola mouthed to Callie.
“Coolness!” Callie said. “I don’t mind telling you, Drew, I don’t have too much cash at the moment, so I was so relieved when your dad said he’ll be footing the bill for the trip, but I was worried about our shopping today. But, you know, I don’t think I need to shop much. I’ll just window-shop. I have enough swimsuits for the trip and...”
“What’re you talking about, girlfriend? Look what I got!” Drew waved what looked like a booklet of tickets or coupons.
“What’re those,” Iola asked.
“Alice, my dad’s secretary, told me employees in my Dad's company are entitled to vouchers for company stores. Almost fifty percent discount in any company store. Up to seventy if we buy in bulk. I asked Pop for his vouchers ‘coz I knew he wouldn’t be using them. So we can go shopping in American Amalgamated’s Newark outlet with the coupons. No tax and seventy percent discount!”
“Cool!” Callie exclaimed, almost bouncing up and down.
“And! I also have these.” Drew pulled out the three tickets Eva Jacobs gave her.
“Tickets?” Callie said, and reached for them. “Oooh! The Evolution Concert on Tour! I heard it was their New York leg this week. I didn’t know there were tickets still available, and you got three of ‘em!”
“What is the Evolution Concert, anyway?” Drew asked. She didn’t even know these were in-demand tickets.
“The Evolution Concert is a contest that pits up-and-coming girl bands. There will be three of them, and the Evolution Tour’s a promotion for the next two. It’s been all over the radio and the internet, and they’ve been giving them out as promos. But I didn’t know you can get any more tickets.”
“Evvie Jacobs’ company got complimentary tickets, but she didn’t want them...”
“She got the job at the paper? Cool!”
Drew nodded. “So, do we go?”
“Are you kidding? Of course! It’s the most anticipated concert ever! Unlimited Bandwidth, baby!”
“Bring in the rain, bring in the shine!” Iola sang, and Callie sang in counterpoint – “I love you...”
Drew didn’t know the song, although it sounded extremely familiar, so she just let them have fun. Their mood was infectious.
As they tooled down Interstate 278, Drew noticed a yellow Camaro following them. But then again, it was the highway so it could be just regular traffic going their way. Still, she was suspicious. She’d been seeing a yellow Camaro on and off ever since she won that Race with Phil. There’s not too many yellow Camaros around where she lived, so no one would blame her for being suspicious. So, as soon as they got off Goathals, as an experiment, she took the first turnoff, and the car followed them.
She casually made a U-turn going back to the interstate (although how you can “casually” make a U-turn was something she wasn’t sure about), and she passed the Camaro. At the wheel was Biff Hooper, one of Phil Cohen’s friends. The Camaro made a U-turn, too, and it was now just behind them. If Biff was trying to be inconspicuous, he wasn’t doing too good a job, Drew thought.
“Hey, Drew?” Iola said. “Are you lost or something?”
“This’ll sound weird, guys, but there’s someone tailing us.”
“Omigod!” Callie said. “Is it about that break-in we did? Oh, no!”
“Is it the cops? Omigod, it’s the cops! Omigod, omigod, omigod!” Iola shrieked.
“Chill, girls!” Drew exclaimed. “It’s not that. I think I know who it is. Do you remember Biff? One of Phil’s buds?”
“What! Biff Hooper? What’s that douche doing?”
“This has got to be about Phil and his Escalade!” Callie said.
“I don’t know. But I’m gonna find out. Buckle up girls.”
Drew hit the brakes and the Camaro screeched to avoid rear-ending them. Drew got out and started walking to the yellow car. The Camaro backed up, tires squealing, veered around Drew and roared away.
Drew ran back to her car and put Tiger into gear.
“I saw the driver,” Iola said. “It is Biff fucking Hooper!”
“So it’s about Phil’s Escalade!” Callie said.
“We don’t know that yet, but we are going to find out,” Drew said.
“Yeah!”
“Drew?” Iola said, “Biff is a big guy, are you sure...”
“I can take care of us, but,” she drove one-handed while she fished in her purse. “Callie, here you go.”
“What’s this?” Callie looked at the keychain that looked like a little gun.
“That’s pepper spray. Just in case.”
“Hey, what about me?” Iola asked.
“Callie, you give her the whistle. It’s on the keychain, too. Now, you guys be quiet for a bit. Need to concentrate.”
Biff turned back to I278, and as soon as he got on the highway, he pulled to the inside high-speed lane. Biff thought he was doing well since he could now legitimately go high speed.
But Drew knew a thing or two about high-speed chases, probably more than this guy did. She kept pace with his Camaro, keeping to his right side. Biff couldn’t speed up because of the car in front, or slow down because of the car in the back, and because of Drew, he couldn’t pull out of his lane to escape. Drew rolled her window down and Biff brought his hand up to cover his face.
“Biff!” Drew yelled.
Biff stupidly kept his hand up to cover his face.
“Biff, you stupid jerk! We know it’s you! Roll down your window! So help me, I’m gonna crash my car into your stupid-ass Camaro that looks like a banana and bash your head into the windshield!”
Biff sighed and rolled down his window. “Hey, Drew. It’s funny to run into you here...”
“Shut up! I’m gonna pull out at the next off-ramp, and you follow me.”
“What’s this abo-”
“Shut up, Biff! You follow me, or I swear to you, if you don’t, you’re gonna regret it.”
“Okay, okay!”
They both raised their windows and both started maneuvering to get to the outer lane, in preparation to getting off the highway.
“God, Drew!” Callie said. “You’re badass!” They giggled.
“You better believe it, baby!” Drew said.
“It’s a bit of a turn-on, actually,” Callie smiled mischievously. “Ummm...”
“Keep it in your pants, Shaw,” Iola said, trying not to giggle herself. “She’s trying to concentrate.”
“’Kay, ‘kay. I’ll be good.”
“So, Drew,” Iola said. “What do you think this is all about?”
They got off the highway and started driving down a four-lane road. But, apparently, Biff had a change of heart since he got ahead of her and started to accelerate down the largely empty avenue, forcing Drew to accelerate after him as well.
“Dammit! Hang on - I’m gonna check this jerk.”
They were already doing at least sixty, but then again, Drew was driving her souped-up Opel Twin-top. She snap-shifted and accelerated, easily overtaking the Camaro, and cut Biff off. Biff braked hard and started to pull back again.
Drew reversed and, with more than enough speed, was able to go around the car and cut him off again. Biff then put his car in first again and pulled forward.
“Dammit!” Drew said. She accelerated forward and blipped her car to the right, causing Biff to swerve to avoid colliding with her, and slammed his brakes so that he wouldn’t hit the Ford parked at the curb. His car stopped inches away from the Ford.
That was what Drew wanted. She backed up and blocked the Camaro from the rear, preventing it from moving.
“Callie, keep the pepper spray ready,” Drew said, “and Iola, blow that whistle and try and get people’s attention if Biff gets physical.”
The three girls got down, with Callie holding out the pepper spray and Iola holding the whistle between her teeth, ready to blow.
Biff got out and faced the three girls. At first, he was about to laugh at Callie’s and Iola’s grim faces, especially with Iola holding a whistle in her teeth.
But when he looked at Drew, he gulped. She looked as hot as she always did, but knowing her reputation, he felt so nervous he was about ready to pee.
“So,” Drew said. “Now you’re going to tell us why you were following us.”
“Well, first off, I have to say how lovely you three...”
“Shut up, Hooper. Tell us why you were tailing us.”
“Drew...”
“Dammit, Hooper!”
“Well...” Biff started saying, and then ran off down the street.
“Dammit! Callie, you’re with me. Iola, you stay here, wait for us and blow the whistle if you spot a cop. Me and Callie will run him back here. Callie, let’s go!”
The two of them started running after Biff. Though Biff was bigger and more powerful, Drew and Callie were lighter and more fit, so they started overhauling him. After half a block, Biff started slowing down, winded and breathing hard. He looked over his shoulder and saw the two rapidly approaching, with Drew in the lead.
Realizing he needed to get back to his car, he turned to face them. When they were almost on him, he tried to slip past them and run back to the way he came. Drew reached out and grabbed him by the arm, and Biff slipped on the asphalt and fell down.
He got up and tried to run away again. Drew did some kind of Judo thing, flipped him over and Biff found himself down again, his face in the pavement.
He tried getting up again but Drew put her foot on his ass and pushed him down. “Stop trying to get away!” Drew said.
Biff stopped and apparently decided not to struggle anymore. After a bit, when he had caught his breath a little and Drew’s foot was off him, he turned over and saw Drew’s and Callie’s faces looming over him. Callie was pointing Drew’s little gun at him.
“So, what’s that anyway, girly? You going to shoot me?” Callie pressed the trigger and sprayed him in the face. “Aaargh!” he screamed.
Drew and Callie walked him back to their cars. Biff’s eyes were extremely red, but it didn’t hurt much, actually, and after a few minutes, most of the effects were gone. Drew had to say something to her dad – these mini-Mace keychain sprays weren’t too good. She’ll have to look for something better.
When they were near Iola, Drew started quizzing Biff.
“Tell us why you were following us.”
“Well... strictly speaking, I wasn’t following you. I was following... you.”
“You’re sounding crazy. You’re not following us, but you’re following us?”
“No, Drew, I mean... Well, can I speak to you in private for just a sec?”
The girls looked at each other.
“Well, okay....” Drew pulled him back, away from Callie.
Callie walked to Iola and looked at Drew and Biff while they talked in whispers.
“Wonder what this is about,” Iola said.
They looked at both of them as they talked, Biff clearly embarrassed and Drew very serious. After a few minutes or so, Drew was smiling a bit, and after a little while more, they broke up.
Biff went to his car and got in the driver’s seat.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you girls later,” he said.
Drew went into her own car, backed up and allowed Biff to pull out and continue on. Callie and Iola watched him go, went over to Drew’s car and got in.
“So?” Iola said. “What did he say?”
“Well, he was telling the truth.”
“What truth?”
“He wasn’t following us. He was following me.”
“He was? Why?”
“It seems he has a, ummm... he has a crush on me.”
“Huh?”
“He was stalking me.”
“Stalking!” Callie exclaimed.
“Very badly, too.”
“Ahhh!” Iola said, finally understanding. “I’ve always thought he was creepy.”
“Yeah. Anyway, he promised he to stop. Still, you guys keep an eye out for him.”
“How did you manage that?”
“I, ummm, I promised to go out on a date with him sometime and he’ll quit following me.”
“Oh, is that all?” Iola laughed.
“You should have seen him almost pissing in his pants! And blushing a mile a minute! He looked sooo adorable.”
Drew and Callie laughed.
“He has a crush?” Iola asked.
“He said he thought I was so awesome and cool and sexy and hot. Hey, those’re his words! I think he needs to learn what commas are.” Drew laughed again.
Callie looked at Drew, her mood changing. A faint kind of irritation, anger or something like that, came over her expression.
“Hey!” Callie said crossly. “I thought we were going to go shopping.”
“Yes, we are.”
“Then, let’s go.”
“Yep. We’re goin’ – that’s why we’re here, Callie.” Drew giggled.
“Well, okay,” Callie harrumphed.
“Grumpy!” Iola said.
Drew looked at Iola via the rearview, with a questioning look, as in, “what’s gotten into Callie?”
Iola shrugged with her own look, which said something like, “I don’t know, but let’s just ride it out.”
After a little while, they were in the Bayview interchange, and maneuvered to the New Jersey Turnpike. They turned off at Jersey Garden Boulevard and were soon pulling up to Elizabethtowne, the largest mall-slash-department store the Tate Group had in New Jersey.
They had some time on their hands before the mall opened, so they went to Blimpies, right across the mall. It was semi-full with early-bird shoppers like them waiting for the mall to open. They ordered two “Blimpie BLT subs” and coffee, and sat down to plan for their shopping.
“So,” Drew said, “what’ll we look for? We have lots of vouchers so we can go for anything.”
“Well, swimsuits first, I guess,” Iola said as she split their two subs into roughly three pieces each.
“Yeah,” Callie said. “Swimsuits, some walking-around dresses, shorts, thongs, a couple of club outfits?”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought, huh?”
“I’m a girl on a budget, Drew. I have to.”
Drew gave her a hug. “Well, not too much on a budget.” She took out the booklet of vouchers and split it into three (making sure Callie got the thickest).
“Let’s see,” Drew said, and read the instructions on the back of the vouchers. “Okay, the way you use the vouchers is that you give one voucher per item to the cashier when you’re paying, and you’re supposed to tell them the Tate Group employee’s name and ID number that the vouchers belong to, and depending on the voucher color, you’d get the appropriate discount.”
“What’s ours?” Iola asked.
“Let’s see – yellow vouchers entitles us to, well, what do you know? Eighty percent!”
“Eighty percent? Omigod!” Callie cheered.
“Oh, wait! The discount doesn’t apply to everything. If the number below the barcode of the product ends with a ’99,’ it means you pay full-price.”
“Darn...”
“They’re probably the high-end items,” Iola said, “like designer clothes and things.”
“How about things like lotion, toiletries and other stuff?” Callie said.
“Yes, the vouchers work with them, too. Everything, actually, except for those marked ‘99.’”
“Great!”
“Lemme give Pop a call so I can get his employee number.”
“Do you think he’s awake by now?”
“My pop? Oh, he’s definitely awake.”
After she talked with him and wrote his employee number on the back on some of his business cards, she gave the girls a card each, and kept one for herself.
“Hey,” Callie said, “I forgot to tell you, I’m shopping for two. Aunt Arlene asked me to shop for her, as well.”
“Coolness,” Drew said, and gave some more vouchers from her set.
A lot of the people eating started to get up and stream towards the restaurant’s exit, and started walking across the street to the mall’s main entrance. “Hey, they’re open now, I think.”
They finished up and walked to the mall as well.
They then spent most of the morning roaming the mall’s main department store. When they made their first few purchases, aside for the vouchers and Carson’s employee ID number, the cashier also asked for an ID.
Drew was the one who gave an ID, and she asked the cashier to call her dad's office. When they did, and Alice confirmed Drew’s ID, they were more friendly. Aside from the cashiers asking for the vouchers, the girls had no more trouble with the mall people – the news that some VIP shoppers were in the mall had probably spread.
Thanks to the vouchers and the absence of any sales tax, Callie was able to keep to her budget and actually buy everything on her list and then some. Same with Iola. In the end, they bought so much, they couldn’t put everything in Tiger’s trunk. Drew had the girls wait in the car and she went back to the store. After a while, Drew came back with garbage bags, a couple of jump ropes, and elastic netting – the kind motorcycle enthusiasts used to stretch over their stuff to secure them on their motorcycle seats.
Drew first put a couple of layers of garbage bags on the bottom of tiger's trunk. She then put all the stuff with boxes (like the shoes and sandals) on top of them. Then she put all the other stuff in garbage bags and put them on top of the boxes. When she had everything in, she put another layer of bags over everything, stretched the netting over the entire thing, and swung down the trunk’s hood.
Of course, the hood wouldn’t close so she used the jump rope to tie down the hood. Sure, it didn’t close completely, but at least their stuff was secure enough to survive the trip back to Staten Island.
The first thing they did was to go to Drew’s place and segregate their stuff. Iola called her dad and he agreed to come pick her up. As for Callie, Drew said she’d bring her home. She had more stuff to bring home than Iola, after all.
After Mr. Morton came and went, bringing Iola and all her purchases home, Drew and Callie then packed Tiger’s trunk with Callie’s purchases (without Drew’s and Iola’s stuff, they fit easily).
Drew pulled up in front of Callie’s house. “Well, here we are,” Drew said. “Do you think Aunt Arlene’s home?”
“I don’t think so,” Callie replied. “Aunt Arlene is doing her friend Doris a favor and is covering her shift for the day.”
“Who’s Doris?”
“She’s the nurse that agreed to take on Aunt Arlene's shifts so that we can go on our Hawaii trip.”
“She must be an awfully close friend. Agreeing to cover her shifts for more than two weeks.”
“I guess, but everyone at the hospital got their shifts cut, so I’m thinking Doris is the one who feels grateful, cause she gets more duty time.”
“Ahhh.”
“Wanna help me bring my stuff in?”
“No prob.”
Callie got about a third of the stuff in garbage bags while Drew got the other two-thirds plus the stuff in boxes.
Laden with the bags, Callie struggled to open the door with her key and they went in. Callie dumped all her stuff on the couch, and asked Drew to do likewise. She went to the kitchen for a second and grabbed a couple of bottles of water.
“Here you go,” Callie handed Drew one of them.
“Thanks!”
They both sat down on the carpet by the coffee table and sighed. “Long day, huh?” Drew said.
“But fun.” They both giggled.
“That thing with Biff,” Callie said. “That was scary.”
“Well, yeah,” Drew replied, “until we knew it was Biff. After that, it was nothing – just another stupid thing from Phil and his buds.”
“I just couldn’t believe you Judo-chopping him. And twice, too!” Callie laughed. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
“Pop had me take self-defense classes. I’ll teach you sometime, if you want, although all I really know are basic self defense stuff.”
“Still, you are one bad-ass girl, Drew,” Callie laughed again. She imitated Drew’s voice. “’I’m gonna crash my car into your stupid-ass Camaro that looks like a banana,’” Callie quoted. “’and I’ll bash your head into the windshield!’”
The two of them laughed until they couldn’t breathe anymore. “Oh, Drew,” Callie said. “That was hysterical!”
“I couldn’t believe I was saying those words!” Drew said. “And listening to them now, they sound awfully lame. ‘Looks like a banana!’” They laughed some more.
“It was fun, actually. Although, at the time, I was scared out of my head.”
“Me, too,” Callie replied. “But, Drew...”
“Yeah, Honey?”
“I have to apologize. I was sorry for being so abrupt.”
“Ahhh, no need to apologize, Callie.”
“Really, I’m sorry. I... don’t know what came over me.”
“S’okay. It was nothing.”
“I guess I just didn’t like Biff stalking us... or stalking you, rather. He’s a creepy guy.”
“No more than the other guys in school. Except for the stalking thing, that is.”
“Yeah...”
Well!” Drew said over the growing awkward silence. “I got to get back to the house. Pop’s gonna be back home soon.”
“Okay.” Callie walked Drew to the door.
“And, Drew?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for the vouchers. I wouldn’t have been able to shop if it weren’t...”
“Hey, Pop wasn’t going to be using them. So it might as well have been us to use ‘em instead of them going to waste.”
“Still...”
“Ain’t no big thing, Callie. Really.” Drew stepped out the door.
“Okay.”
Impulsively, Callie leaned forward, threw her arms around Drew’s neck, and gave her a kiss on the lips. It wasn’t meant to be anything sexy since it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing, but it still was.
“Bye, my love,” Callie said and closed the door.
Callie...” Drew started to say, but the door was already closed.
Drew sighed and walked to her car. After getting in, she looked back. She sighed again and drove away.
From behind the curtains, Callie watched Drew pull away. She was kicking herself for kissing Drew. But Callie couldn’t help it. At least Drew didn’t slap her or anything like that. She had a feeling Drew liked it, although she couldn’t be sure about that.
Still, it didn’t hurt if she dreamed.
Callie’s infatuation with Drew was growing, and there will come a time when she, or Drew, would have to acknowledge it and do something about it. Still, it wasn’t that time yet.
Callie looked at the stuff she just bought, and took them out of the trash bags. She separated the three swimsuits Aunt Arlene asked her to get for her – two bikinis and a one-piece, a couple of cover-ups, several sundresses and a nice-looking pair of rubber thongs. Callie bought the same things, but she had more sundresses and swimsuits. She hoped her aunt would like what she picked for her, but was fairly confident that she would – she and her aunt had similar tastes, but she had modified it a little bit based on what she had learned from Drew. She felt her tastes had been... “upgraded” (She thought that word the most appropriate way to describe it).
Actually, during the shopping, she and Iola had been getting their cues from Drew, and patterned most of their selections after Drew’s. Callie didn’t say anything to Iola, of course, since she knew Iola prided herself on her clothes sense. Still, personally, between Iola and Drew, she thought Drew was by far the better dresser, actually. In fact, she actually thought Drew was the best dresser in her school.
Some of the other girls in school dismissed Drew as just one of those Richie Rich Manhattanite snobs, but only a few of them did. Most didn’t think she was like that. Most of them actually thought she was pretty nice and approachable, and that she only happened to have great taste. But everyone wondered why she and her dad moved to very déclassé Staten Island, much more to their school. Drew's dad could easily have enrolled her in one of those snooty private schools, but for Callie, she was just grateful that Drew ended up in Staten Island and her school, and that she was now one of Drew’s best friends.
But Callie wanted to be more than just a best friend. She sighed.
She looked at the stuff she just bought and wondered how Drew would think of them when she sees her wearing them in Hawaii. Sure it was meant for their vacation. But she made her selections more to catch Drew’s eye. She giggled and picked them all up to bring to her room.
- - - - -
Drew hit the button to bring down Tiger’s convertible top. The roll bar was still there though, but it didn’t bother her much anymore.
She thought of that kiss. Oh, wow.
Like Iola said, Callie was putting the moves on her. She wasn’t exactly a girl but she recognized the signs. The overnight was a big deal to her. Sure the Hawaii trip was their latest obsession, but with Callie in that nightie...
She drove up to their house, clicked the control to open the garage door, and parked.
She went into the living room just as their big grandfather clock tolled five PM. It was still a couple of hours before her dad came home so she had time to put all of her new stuff away. She even bought her dad a couple of vacation-type outfits and one golf outfit just in case. After she put them all away, she swept the house with the portable radio signal and nonlinear junction detectors, and the house checked out as clean.
But, as she thought of her “stalker” that morning, she got a couple of ideas.
She went around the house and reviewed the pictures from the lipstick surveillance cameras and found more than one stalker.
She easily found Biff in the video files, passing by the front of their house every couple of days, and there were two occasions when the cameras caught him peeking through the living room windows.
Other than that, there were a few other kids from school passing by their house. They (and Biff) would stand outside or park in front in his Dodge Charger, sometimes the Camaro, and as soon as Drew came out or pulled out of the garage, they’d quickly high-tail it out of there. For Biff, the cameras caught him driving past the house the most just as Drew drove away. He was obviously tailing her.
But there was one other guy, a kid Drew recognized from the Sophomore class. This kid was the most persistent of them, even more than Biff. He would hide in the bushes and would stick around, usually peeking through the windows late at night or early morning, and would leave when Drew left.
It was creepy, to say the least.
One of the more surprising ones was Sabrina, one of the new incoming cheerleaders. What Drew suspected before, that there were more people out there with a crush on her, was more-or-less confirmed.
Anyway, Drew resolved to ignore the ones who just pass by in front of the house, including Sabrina. Totally harmless. But she had to do something about that Sophomore kid.
Drama, drama, drama...
Other than the stalker-kids, there was nothing suspicious in the pictures. She initialized all the SD cards in the cameras and reset them (saving some of the pictures first, though). But it goes to show, she needed to review the footage from the cameras more regularly.
She sighed and picked up all the stuff she had bought for her dad and brought them to his room.
She didn’t buy much this time. If she bought more, she might make Callie and Iola feel bad. So all she bought were some swimsuits (All of them were one-piece suits – no two-piece ones. That earned her several “boos” from Callie and Iola when she got them, but these suits were the only kind that would work with her gaffs. Her friends didn’t know that, of course. All they knew was that Drew wasn’t as adventurous in her swimwear as she was with her other outfits). But, Iola had to admit, the suits Drew picked were awfully sexy on her. Still, Iola stuck to two-piece string bikinis and super-sexy monokinis herself.
Drew also bought cover-ups, sundresses, a couple of club outfits for when they go out, a couple of pumps for the club clothes, and a pair of rubber thongs, sunglasses and a large very-wide-brimmed Mexican sombrero-style sun hat for when they were at the beach lounging around and getting a tan.
She had to giggle. More than twenty separate pieces and yet she thought of this as “not much.” Par for the course for her new, skewed life.
Oh, well.
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Drew Nance Book 2: "The Hidden Staircase" by Bobbie J. Cabot Chapter Seven: |
After Drew and her dad finished dinner, she got a call from Sabrina, the old cheer captain of the JayVees (and one of the people in her surveillance videos), about the latest rumor now spreading in the school, and Sabrina asked Drew to join a meeting the ex-Jayvees were gonna have.
Just before school let out for the summer, the girls’ coach made a short announcement via the school’s PA, inviting anyone interested in joining the Varsity Cheerleading Team to sign up for interviews and then eventual tryouts, and that all incoming Juniors and Seniors were qualified to apply. Everyone had a month to sign up. So a signup form went up the school's bulletin board shortly after that.
That little announcement had rocketed through the entire school body. But rumors about the cheerleaders had already been making the rounds at that point, and the announcement just added to the controversy of that rumor.
According to that rumor, a couple of Sophomores had seen the JayVee cheerleaders auditioning for Coach Stoeger before the school year was out - before the coach's announcement. Nothing unusual about that, after all, since the new Varsity Team would usually be made up of the girls from the outgoing JayVee team, so this seemed normal. The difference was that, Coach Stoeger only schedules tryouts for the Varsity team at the start of the school year. Why the early auditions specifically for the Jayvees? Was something up? That plus an even earlier rumor that there was some kind of turf war going on between Janine, the outgoing cheer captain of the Varsity team, and Sabrina, the captain of the outgoing JayVees. Those alone were good enough for the rumor mill to keep on churning for a while, but the girls who said they saw the JayVees had set off yet another bomb. At a little birthday party for one of the Sophomores, they said that they also saw Drew with the Jayvees during their tryouts. So, to quote the school body, “what!?!”
There were very few kids interested in being cheerleaders, at least in Drew’s school. Because of this, the girls that became the Varsity team mostly came from the JayVee team, and the new JayVee team came from the middle school team. It was rare when new applicants would come out of the woodwork. So Coach Stoeger was always worried about making her numbers, as her goal was to have a team that was made up of at least eight girls. She thought that a team with less than eight members hardly seemed like a real team. And, hopefully, this year, she'd get a couple of boys.
Stoeger got lucky with her outgoing team, though – even though she had no boys for the heavy lifting, she did get twelve girls. With enough numbers, she was able to make up routines complicated enough that they met the requirements of the NCA National High School Cheerleading Competition, and was able to at least get them to the cheerleading semi-finals.
That was a first for the school’s cheerleaders. Janine, the squad’s cheer captain took much of the credit for that, however, as she did for all the accomplishments of the cheerleaders.
Stoeger didn’t mind that much, since Janine was the one who was responsible for upping their team membership, which made it all possible. And if Janine did that through intimidation, bribery or blackmail, since no one could prove them, Stoeger didn’t care. In fact, Janine was also responsible for getting donations from private individuals through her father’s influence in the community. In fact, without these donations, the cheerleader program, such as it was, would not have continued on, and the girls would again be relegated to the usual cheerleading at home games. No away game trips even, much less being able to participate in regional and national competitions.
With the rumor that Drew had tried out, a lot of girls wanted to try out as well. Problem was, they also heard about the turf thing, and no one wanted to get on the bad side of Janine. The stream of prospective applicants dried up pretty quickly.
Janine and her girls, which Janine thought included Callie and Iola, put on a big recruitment drive. Callie and Iola were the most active of them in their efforts to recruit new kids, but no one signed up despite the added attraction of Drew being on the team. And it was all because of the rumored war between Janine and Sabrina.
So, the upshot was, no new kids applied.
- - - - -
Drew told Sabrina she should bring Callie, Iola and the other Juniors to her proposed meeting as well, but Sabrina wondered if that was wise.
“Listen,” Drew said, “if you can’t trust your team mates, then we might as well quit now. Whatever happens, we need to be open with our teammates. ‘Coz, if you can trust someone to catch you when you fall, and stop you from breaking your neck, then you can trust her. Period.
"You know what I’m saying, Sabrina?”
Sabrina paused for a second. “Dammit, you’re right. Okay, lemme be the one to call. Can you meet us at Burger King at around ten?”
“No prob. But I have a suggestion – there’s this bed-and-breakfast about fifteen minutes from school called Doctor Seuss, and they serve French toast-type meals. Their best-seller is something they call ‘green eggs and ham,’ which has scrambled eggs made with pesto and spinach, prosciutto for the ham, and Kitten Coffee.”
“Sounds cute. I didn’t know about that place.”
“I’m not surprised. They just opened about two months ago, and they’re not too kid-friendly, if you know what I mean. They mostly cater to the yuppie office people that work off-island. I’m pretty sure the kids from school wouldn’t like it even if they heard about it. So that means we can talk without distractions. But the catch is that they’re only open between six and ten in the morning.” She then gave her the address.
“Okay. I’ll schedule it for nine, then.”
“Sabrina?” Drew said a little reluctantly, “I can vouch for Callie and Iola but the other Juniors – you know that they’re friends with Janine, you know.”
“I get you, Drew. But like you said, we have to trust our teammates. Besides, it’s best to know early on where they stand, if, you know...”
“You’re a brave girl, Sabrina.”
“Yes, I am. And I’m humble, too.” They giggled together.
Of course, Callie and Iola called Drew a few minutes later. Drew put them on conference call and the three talked it through. All three of them didn’t know what was happening but they knew that it had something to do with Janine. They agreed to play it by ear, keeping in mind that Polly and the two Kates (the other Juniors that were part of Janine’s old team that would be staying along with Callie and Iola) would be there, and that anything they talked about would be instantly relayed to Janine.
They agreed to get to the place separately so Polly and the Kates couldn’t assume anything.
The following morning, Drew deliberately came in fifteen minutes late. She had put on something casual but chic – she was hyper-aware that these were all cheerleaders, so something fashionable and trendy was required.
She wore a sexy, backless playsuit-type dress with a sexy lace-covered V-neck top with crossed spaghetti straps to keep it secure. It had a high-waist pleated red above-the-knee mini.
She didn’t have to wear any bra with it as it had built-in bra shields to keep her modesty intact, but they kept her c-cup profile looking incredible, keeping her bouncy but supported and extremely... noticeable. She didn’t wear any belt as the hourglass cut gave her slim waist more than enough emphasis. Drew’s ensemble looked similar to something casual a fashionista girl would be wearing during her summer vacation in some swanky resort, and she looked super-sexy in it, especially with the now-shaggy blonde mop she had (which reminded her that she had an appointment with Julian at Benzaiten, and have her hair fixed before their trip).
And instead of being blinged up like most Staten Island girls, she just wore her white Tissot on her left wrist, a simple gold clam bracelet on her right and a thin gold chain around her neck with a small pendant. The pendant nestled in her cleavage and would peek out occasionally when she walked, which was pretty sexy, actually. Her only concession to the ‘Staten Island Style’ was thin hoop earrings six inches in diameter.
She finished it off with a pair of low-top vintage Chuck Taylors, and wore them without any socks – which gave the right tone for her casual city look.
As she came in to the restaurant, she found the girls chowing down on their “green eggs and ham,” and didn’t even notice that she had come in.
Drew cleared her throat. “So, you girls are hungry today, huh?”
“Drew!” Sabrina exclaimed, got up and gave her a very, very enthusiastic hug. The other ex-JayVees were surprised at that, but gave Drew hugs as well, though not quite as enthusiastic. Drew gave Callie and Iola high-fives and hugs, and sat down between Sabrina and Callie.
“Drew,” Marti said, “you gotta try these eggs! Wow!”
“Yeah. I know it. Tasty, huh?”
“Drew,” Iola said, “remember Polly from the party? The blonde is Kate Henderson and the brunette is Kate Smith.”
“Hey, Drew,” Polly waved. “Glad to see you again. Guess we’re team mates now.”
“That’s right. Thanks for the welcome, Pol. Have you talked to Janine and the others? I’m sure they’d want to know that I got past my tryouts.”
Polly and the Kates looked at each other guiltily. “Ummm, no, we haven’t talked to her. At least not recently,” Polly said.
“No prob. I guess they’re busy planning for college and everything.”
“Yeah, but she said that she wishes our new team the best.”
“Yeah, sure,” Savannah, one of the new ex-JayVee girls muttered, while the others glowered at the three Juniors.
“Savannah!” Marti, the tallest among the new girls, exclaimed, and elbowed her.
Sabrina sighed. “Sorry about that, Polly. But I’m sure you’ll understand why they feel that way when I explain.”
“Ummm,” Polly said tentatively, “explain what?” She tried to act dumb but they all knew it was just an act.
“Drew,” Sabrina began, turning to her. “It’s like this...”
It seemed that Janine heard about Drew attending the tryouts with the JayVees the weekend before finals, and flipped out. She had wanted to use Drew as her main attraction, and get enough new applicants to squeeze the JayVees out of free spots on the team, but, with Drew trying out with the JayVees, that sort of ruined that for her.
Apparently, when Coach Stoeger explained to Janine that she just wanted to get the tryouts for the JayVees out of the way already so that she could concentrate on fresh recruits, and since Janine told her Drew wanted to try out as well, she decided to hit two birds with one stone.
Janine "felt a little bad about that” (or so Janine explained to the coach) since that meant other girls wouldn’t get a fair shot at the empty spots. But the coach explained that the team doesn’t have to be twelve girls only, and wondered where Janine heard that the team was limited to twelve. However, to make Janine feel better (or so Coach Stoeger explained to Janine), she immediately made her announcement that she was recruiting for new kids, and gave everyone a month to apply. Stoeger promised, with enough numbers, she would be able to shake up the team’s composition, pick the best and weed out all the people that weren’t good enough, whether or not they were JayVees.
But there was very little chance of that, though, that there were more applicants to choose from. Janine still tried, though, but they weren’t able to drum up any new applicants, So Janine lobbied the coach to extend the deadline, but Stoeger didn’t want to anymore. She explained that the extra month was plenty already.
So it seemed that Janine’s plan of using Drew as her new attraction to get more recruits didn’t work. Polly and the others had explained to her that it could have worked, but her ongoing feud with Sabrina made everyone stay away, which made Janine explode at Polly.
So, because it apparently meant that the Jayvees were sure to be part of the team whatever she tried, Janine decided on a bit of sabotage.
Sabrina heard from her mom that Janine’s dad had been talking to most of the businesses in the area that had been sponsoring the cheerleaders, and convinced them to withdraw their support. Fantastically, that even included Sabrina’s dad. Clearly, Janine’s dad wasn’t really keeping close track of what he was doing or saying.
Coach Stoeger had also heard the same thing from her contacts, and was at her wits’ end trying to find a way to fill the growing sponsorship void and help her girls.
Inside, Polly and the Kates, far from blaming Janine, were mad at Sabrina instead. To their eyes, it was Sabrina’s fault, that she "forced" Janine to do this. But hearing it this way...
“So,” Sabrina said, with tears in her eyes, “I am going to go to Coach Stoeger later today and tell her I don’t want to be on the team anymore.
“So, can you guys find a way to let Janine know that,” she asked, addressing the entire team (although she was looking directly at Polly and the Kates). “I’d appreciate it if you did. But I will quit only if Janine stops making people pull out their sponsorships. Make that clear, okay? The team really needs the support.”
The Sophomores gathered around Sabrina and hugged her.
Polly and the Kates were looking away in guilt and embarrassment. It wasn’t really their fault, they were thinking, but they felt guilty since they were clearly accessories after the fact.
Callie and Iola looked at each other, clearly feeling trapped in between Janine and the Jayvees. They didn’t know anything about this. Clearly, they weren’t part of Janine’s inner circle anymore.
“No!” Drew exclaimed and slammed her fist on the table. The girls and the other diners looked at Drew in surprise.
“No,” Drew said, but more calmly this time. “You’ll do no such thing, Sabrina.”
“But, Drew,” Sabrina said, crying freely already, “what about the team? I can’t bear to let the team...” Drew stood beside her.
“No!” she said. “No one will do this to you, no one will do this to the team. You leave it to me.” Sabrina looked down.
“No, dammit!” Drew said and lifted Sabrina's chin. “Promise me you won’t quit.”
Sabrina shrugged helplessly.
Drew turned to the three Juniors. “Polly, you and the Kates tell Janine whateverthe hell you want to tell her. This is not your fault, I’m sure, but you have to decide where your loyalties lie. This isn’t Sabrina’s fault, too, so you can quit blaming her. Actually, if this is true, then it’s actually Janine’s fault.” Drew’s voice was reasonable. She didn’t sound angry anymore, nor sound like she was blaming them. But their pride was still hurt. Polly was about to respond, but Drew waved her down.
“No, Polly,” Drew continued. “I am not blaming you guys, like I said, nor should anyone here blame you as well. You were just pawns, as we all were.” She looked at everyone else meaningfully, telling everyone, in short, not to be mad at the three. “But think about this – if this is true, Janine did this even though she knew you were still part of the team, and tried to deflect the blame to Sabrina. She didn’t think enough about you to reconsider her scheme.
“Is it Sabrina’s fault that she tried out for the team? What – doesn’t she deserve the same break that all of us got to get on the team? I mean, really? The bigger thing here is,” she said, still sounding reasonable and calm, but relentless, “like I said, Janine did this despite you three still being part of the team. Consider that.”
The three looked down in shame. “But Drew,” Callie said, “what can we do?”
“You guys,” Drew said, and gave Callie a small kiss on the cheek, “will do nothing. You leave this all to me.” She looked at Callie and Iola straight in the eye. “I mean it, okay?” Callie and Iola nodded.
“What you can do, actually,” Drew gestured to the rest of them as well, “is to try and cheer Sabrina up, and to stop her from quitting. And don’t blame anyone else. It’s no one’s fault, except maybe Janine. Okay?”
She went to the lady by the cash register, spoke to her and handed the lady her credit card. She went back to the table.
“Iola,” Drew said, “I gave the cashier my card, and so breakfast is on me. Just be sure to get my card and sign for the bill before you guys leave. You guys order anything you want, okay? I have to go.”
She turned to leave, and as she was about to step outside, Sabrina ran up to her and put her hand on her arm. “Drew!” Sabrina said. “What are you doing? Where are you going?”
Drew hugged her, and gave her a qucik, small kiss on the lips.
“Don’t worry, Sabrina. I am not going to do anything crazy. Stop worrying.”
“But...”
“Trust me, okay? I’ll fix this.” She gave her a final hug and went to her car. “Bye!” Drew tooted her horn, waved goodbye and drove away.
“Bye!” Sabrina said, touching her lips, sighing, and waved. “... I love you...”
The following day, Coach Stoeger opened her office in the gym, her brow wrinkled from worrying about how to replace the funds the school was steadily losing as sponsors started pulling out. How can the cheerleaders continue on?
She sat at her desk and started going through the list of the parents of the kids in the Junior class (soon to be the senior class). She started ticking off potential sponsors. She spent the day calling these folks and looking for sponsors, but no one responded favorably. As for the current sponsors, they had all said that they will be pulling out next Term. It seems Janine’s dad said it may be better to try and help out the school in other ways. When she tried finding out what made them change their minds, they were evasive or didn’t have any valid reason.
One parent actually said that he didn’t know, but to please talk to Janine’s dad.
So it was official – Coach Stoeger’s sponsor revenue stream had dried up.
She couldn’t blame them, she thought. The economy wasn’t exactly rosy, so why would they want to help? But the one who suggested that they pull out was Janine’s dad.
The thing was, without donations from private individuals, the girls would again be reduced to the usual cheerleading for the home games. No nice uniforms, and away game trips wouldn’t even be possible anymore. Participating in regional and national competitions would also be totally out of the question.
Coach Stoeger sighed. “Looks like Callie and Iola were right about Janine,” she thought.
As she was about to leave for the day, her phone rang.
“Good afternoon,” an official-sounding voice said. “Is this Ms Stoeger?”
“Yes, this is Coach Stoeger.”
“Ah, excellent! This is John Donovan calling in behalf of the Tate Foundation, Coach Stoeger. Have you heard of us?”
“Of course! Who hasn’t heard of the Tate Foundation?”
“Great! Well I am calling because we have heard that you were looking for sponsors for your cheerleaders. The Wildcats, right?”
“Yes, yes!”
Mr. Donovan laughed at the enthusiastic response. “Well, we have heard that the Wildcats were able to get to the NCA semi-finals last year despite minimal support from your school and community.”
“I wouldn’t say minimal,” she said.
“Of course. I apologize – I mis-spoke. But according to your principal, last year’s donations were only about twenty thousand, which is hardly enough to cover travel costs. But despite this, your squad got to the semi-finals because of their hard work and your guidance. Anyway, we felt that was a shame so we’d like to help them make it to the finals this year, even win, actually.”
“Why, that’s... that’s wonderful news!”
“Good, good. In which case, we’d like you to visit us, at your earliest convenience, of course, and to please bring us a summary of your Cheerleader Program, as well as a projected budget for this year and an expenditure list from last year that we could look over. We can then work out a sponsorship arrangement.”
“But I have to notify the school first...”
“Of course. Please do. But we have already talked with your principal, Mrs. Weatherby, and she has sent us the school’s guidelines for corporate sponsorship, as well as an ethics checklist. I think she will send over a Ms Roberta Cabot - someone from the teaching staff, I was told, that was knowledgeable about all the administrative stuff of the school's extracurricular programs, to talk this over with us tomorrow. I’d appreciate it if you can come over some time after tomorrow so that we can have a chance to look over her material first before we meet. How does that sound?”
“That sounds great!”
“Okay, so my personal number is 917-555-2016. Feel free to call me anytime. Okay?”
“Thank you... that sounds wonderful.”
“It was indeed a pleasure talking with you, Coach Stoeger, and I hope to hear from you soon.”
“It was a pleasure taking with you, too. I have to say...”
But it was already too late as Mr. Donovan had already hung up.
“Well, I’ll be,” she said as she hung up her phone. She was overwhelmed, to say the least. She wasn’t able to squeeze even ten sentences in, she laughed to herself. “Sabrina must have some kind of guardian angel or something,” she thought. “And I think her name’s Drew.”
She hurried over to the principal’s office. “This’ll make Mrs. Weatherby flip,” she thought. After that, she’ll call the kids, starting with Drew.
That night, someone rang Drew’s doorbell.
“Just a second!” Drew called and opened the front door. Polly and the two Kates greeted her. “Hey, Drew,” the blonde Kate said.
“Hi, guys,” Drew said, surprised.
“Listen, I’m sorry if we’re disturbing you.”
“It’s cool. My dad and I just finished dinner. Anyway, come on in.”
“Pop,” Drew called. “We have visitors.”
Carson Nance came out of the kitchen wiping his hands on a dishtowel.
“Oh!” Carson exclaimed. “Hi.”
“Dad, these are Polly, Kate and Kate.”
“Two Kates, huh?” The three giggled
“Yep. They’re from the Cheerleader Team. We’re gonna be working together next schoolyear.”
“Ah! Well, good evening, girls. Would you like sodas or something?”
“Hi, Mr. Nance,” Polly said. “Great house, by the way.”
“Thank you, my dear.”
“Maybe a diet Coke?”
“No problem. Three diet Cokes coming up.” He disappeared into the kitchen again.
“Your dad’s a hottie, Drew,” one of the Kates said, smiling. “For an older guy, that is.”
“Shhh!” Drew said. “Don’t let him hear you say that! He’ll just get a swelled head.”
The three laughed.
Drew brought them to the living room, and they sat down by the coffee table.
In a few seconds, Carson came back with four Coke Zeroes and a big plate of cookies.
“Here you go, girls. Four horrible diet Cokes and a plate of sugar-free Oreos. You know, of course, that ‘sugar-free’ is a myth.”
Everyone laughed.
“I’ll leave you alone with Drew, then. You girls have some secret stuff to discuss, I’m sure,” he whispered conspiratorially.
They laughed again.
“Drew, I’m going upstairs already, okay? So please keep your chatting to a dull roar.”
Drew stood up and gave him a small peck on the cheek. “’Kay, Pop. Good night.”
When he had climbed up, the girls giggled at Drew.
“Drew, your dad is a charmer,” one of the Kates said.
“Snake charmer, maybe,” Drew joked, “just like the ones from India.”
All of them took a sip from their Cokes.
“So...” Drew began awkwardly, “What’s up?”
“It’s like this, Drew,” Polly said. “You were absolutely right yesterday, and all I can say is that we’re sorry.”
“Well... okay. But you have to apologize to the entire team, and not just to me. Especially to Sabrina.”
“We will. But we have to tell you something else.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, it’s like this. We were at my house and we had decided that we weren’t going to call Janine nor tell her about the meeting, but she and the other Seniors came over and she asked what happened. Before I knew what was happening, she was able get us to tell her what Sabrina said.
“Anyway, we thought that at least we’d be able to convince her to stop her sabotaging the team. But she laughed and said she didn’t care about Sabrina, and that she’s still going to continue doing what she was doing.”
“Then,” one of the Kates said, “I asked her about us, and how it would affect the rest of the team.”
“Then,” the other Kate continued, “she said that we were ‘collateral damage,’ whatever that meant. Polly didn’t let it go but Janine didn’t listen. She said that we were on our own. Talk about loyalty. That bitch!”
“Anyway,” blonde Kate said, “whatever you guys want to do, we’re in. But I know you guys have no reason to trust us, so you don’t have to tell us anything we don’t need to know. We’re cool with that. I think that’s the safer thing, actually, otherwise, Janine might just be able to wear us down and get us to spill again.”
“Yeah,” brunette Kate agreed. “We are totally Janine’s bitches, so it’s safer if you keep us clueless. It’s sad to admit that, I know, but it’s the truth.
“All we’re saying is that we are in. Whatever you decide, whatever you need, we’ll do it.”
“Well, that’s a big deal. Listen, I’m gonna ask everyone and see if they can all come over. If they can, are you guys game to hang around for a while?”
“Sure. I brought a car, so we’re okay to go home anytime. Hope it's okay that I parked at the curb in front of your house.”
“Good. Anyway, we have cable, that’s an x-box there, and I’ll bring you guys some snacks. Wait a sec, though - I need to tell Pop.”
She went upstairs and knocked on Carson’s door.
“Pop?” she said, “is it okay if I invite the other girls from the squad?”
Carson opened his door. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s okay, Pop. But I need to talk over some things with the girls.”
“Okay, but make sure everyone calls their folks. I know how these things get when you girls get together. I don’t want irate parents calling me because their kids aren’t home.”
“Got it, Pop. Thanks!”
She went downstairs, sat down and called Marti. “Hey, Marti, it’s Drew. Sorry to disturb you, but can you call all the JayVees and ask them to come over to my house? Polly and the Kates are here, and there’s something big we need to talk about.”
“’Kay, Drew,” Marti said. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. Make sure everyone asks their folks first, though. We should be done by nine but we might not.”
“Got it Drew.”
“Thanks, Marti. I’m gonna call Callie and Iola next. Bye!”
Drew called up Callie and Iola one after the other, explained the situation, and they said they’d be there in about thirty minutes.
Anyway, Drew didn’t start the explanation until everyone was there.
Sabrina was the last to arrive, and, with fourteen people in the house, it was pretty noisy.
Carson had to come down eventually, and find out what was happening. He said hi to everyone, and ordered pizza and sodas. He had a few slices and got to know the girls by name. But knowing that they had stuff to talk about, he said goodnight early and left them to their own devices.
“Okay,” Drew said, “first off, I have to apologize for making you guys come over tonight. But I think Polly and the Kates have something to tell us that’s very important.”
And with that, the three girls explained what happened to them yesterday and how sorry they were. They also explained what Janine had done up to that point. And, even though all of their slots on the team were assured, Janine had basically deep-sixed any hope for the team being anything other than a small-time cheer squad relegated to doing cheers for their non-seeded basketball and football teams (although their football team was able to make it to fourth place in the city finals), and not even with enough budget to get their team to any away games. And Janine didn’t care whether Sabrina leaves the team or not – she will kill off all their sponsorships regardless.
Sabrina stood up. “Why? Drew, why! I’m leaving the team. Why do this anymore?” Drew came over and gave her a hug.
“Because, Sabrina, it’s not just you anymore. She’s out to get the entire team now.”
“But why!”
“Because we’re your friends.”
Sabrina started crying.
“Hey, hey! Don’t cry.”
“But, Drew, I’m bringing down the team!”
“No, you’re not. It’s Janine. And, don’t worry, everyone’s got everyone else’s back. And I got all of yours.”
Polly and the two Kates came forward and apologized for all the things they did in behalf of Janine. The three said that they were okay if everyone wanted them off the team for being part of Janine’s schemes, even though they said they still wanted to be part of it. They would be open to anything the team wanted them to do.
“Within reason, of course,” Polly said, and everyone laughed.
“Callie and Iola were lucky,” Polly continued. “They managed to get away from Janine. And for that, they were shut out of the group since they made it clear that they were with Drew now, and not with Janine.”
Finally, the three personally apologized to Sabrina, and that they were sorry for everything that they had made her go through.
There was a lot of crying that night, but the true bonding of the team had started. When everyone had settled down again, Drew stood up.
“Okay. Now that we’ve calmed down, let’s talk about the present situation. Sabrina?”
“Yes, Drew?”
“Our sponsorship problem is being fixed by the coach. So you can put your mind at ease about that. And you don’t have to give up cheerleading.”
“But how...”
“It’s useless to speculate. I think it’s probably best to let Coach Stoeger tell us when she’s done with whatever she’s doing. But it’s fixed now.”
“Okay.”
“Also, there are no more applicants for the team. That means we cannot afford to lose any more girls. Does everyone agree?”
Everyone nodded at that.
“And I guess the last thing is that Polly and the Kates have admitted to being part of Janine’s... well, whatever it was that Janine was doing. But they’ve said they’re out of it. I believe them. How about you?”
Everyone agreed.
“So, that means, insofar as everyone is concerned, all is forgiven.” Everyone agreed, again.
“But, we still have the problem of Janine. The point here is not to get back at her but rather to stop her from doing anything further.”
“But, Drew,” Paige, the shorter of the two African-American Sophomores said, “I never understood what all this was about. I know that Janine has something against Bri, but that’s it. What exactly was Janine’s ...”
“I’m sorry, Paige,” Drew interrupted. “It’s not my story to tell.” After a short stretch of silence, Sabrina cleared her throat.
“I tried to kiss Janine,” she said.
“What?” Paige asked. “You tried to kiss...”
Sabrina sighed. “You know this about me, Paige.”
“Hey!” Paige said and moved to Sabrina’s side. “You’re our friend, Bri. We don’t care that you’re gay. That’s not it. We’re just trying to understand why Janine reacted so badly.”
“Janine is a prude,” the brunette Kate said.
“What? But she’s a cheerleader!”
“She is a prude and a homophobe,” Kate insisted.
“And you’re saying Janine did all of this because Bri tried to kiss her?”
“Yes.”
“The girl certainly knows how to carry grudges,” Alice, one of the Latina JayVees commented.
“You’re telling us,” Polly said. “The girl is a petty, vindictive, selfish, narrow-minded, self-centered, prudish and envy-ridden homophobic biyatch. Anyone who knew her would say the same thing.”
“Whoa!” Marti said. “You girls really have had a one hundred eighty-degree turn in your opinion about your former friend.”
The blonde Kate sighed. “That’s what being betrayed does to you.” Brunette Kate put a commiserating hand on blonde Kate’s shoulder.
“Sorry, Marti,” brunette Kate said to her, “but we thought we were her friends. And, like any friend, we would have done so many things we wouldn’t even consider doing for others. But, apparently, Janine doesn’t really have any friends, only people to do her bidding, to follow her around and be her puppets.”
“How about the other cheerleaders?”
“Well, I guess they haven’t come to the same realization.”
“Are they with her? Still?”
“Well, I know they’re all going to the same university this coming semester. Somehow, Janine convinced them to enroll there with her. So they’re still ‘together.’ I imagine they’ll go through the same thing that we went through. Eventually.” Her tone was sad, full of regret.
Drew went to the two of them and hugged them both. “I’m sorry Kate.”
“It’s all right, Drew. It was our fault that we were stupid. Guys, one thing, though...”
“Yeah?” Marti asked.
“We told Drew this already. Because we’re so... stupid, and gullible, at least when it comes to Janine, we think that anything you think Janine shouldn’t know about – don’t tell us. So we won’t spill the beans.”
“I’m sure you won’t make the same mistake again,” said Tori, the little blonde Sophomore.
“You don’t have to say that, Tori,” Polly responded. “But thanks, anyway. Still, just to be sure, and so that we won’t give you guys any reason to worry about us, just don’t tell us anything we shouldn’t know. Think of it like payback for what we did, and a kind of insurance.”
“Kind of extreme, don’t you think?”
“Just humor us. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Well,” Heather, one of the two African-American Sophomores, said, “at least we’re shut of the bitch.”
“Thank God for that,” Iola said.
“One last thing,” Drew said. “Let’s not tell anyone that the coach is fixing the sponsorship thing. Let Janine think that she’s won. Okay? That way, she won’t cook up any more schemes. And once she’s permanently gone away to college, then we can be more open. Is everyone okay with that?”
Everyone agreed. Again. “Okay. So, that’s it, then.”
“Not completely,” Iola said.
“Eh? What’s left?”
“I bumped into Coach Stoeger at the market this morning. And she said, in passing, since our team members may be final already, it might be time to talk about our cheer captain, so she asked me to talk with you guys and get the ball rolling. And despite Callie’s, Polly’s, the two Kate’s and my seniority in the team, she said that she had another girl in mind other than the five of us, but she’ll accede to the team’s wishes if we disagree with her.”
“Who does the coach think should be the captain?” Callie asked.
“She’s suggesting that Drew be the squad’s cheer captain.”
“I second that!” Polly said.
“Me, too!” Sabrina said, as well.
“I think that’s a great idea,” Savannah said.
“Wait, wait!” Drew interrupted.
“Yeah! Drew!” Marti exclaimed.
“But I’m not a cheerleader!”
“You are now!” responded Marti.
“I don’t know anything about cheerleading! I’m not qualified!”
“Coulda fooled us,” Paige giggled. “Especially after the tryouts. Count me in!”
“Wait! Callie, tell them!”
“Well,” Callie replied. “Drew’s right. She hasn’t done cheerleading before. She doesn’t know the moves, the techniques, and everything else. But she’s athletic and a quick study. And we are here to help her out, so that’s not too much of a problem. The thing is, she’s smart, hard working, and she’s my friend. I know she’s a good leader, and I know she’d do the right thing for my team and me. I vote for Drew as our team captain. Iola?”
“Of course,” Iola said. “Drew should be captain.”
“Stop! Stop!”
“Everyone who wants Drew as our captain, say ‘aye!’”
And everyone said "aye!" simultaneously, and laughed at Drew’s shocked look.
“That’s settled,” Iola said. “Drew is our team captain, then.” She turned to Drew. “If our captain agrees, of course.”
“But, guys! I don’t know much about cheerleading. Sincerely!”
Thirteen girls looked at her expectantly.
“You guys are making a mistake, you know,” Drew huffed.
“Shut up and say yes already, honey,” Callie said and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Dammit!”
Callie giggled. “That’s Drew-speak for ‘yes,’ by the way,” she said to the others.
“Aright!” the jayvees exclaimed.
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Drew Nance Book 2: "The Hidden Staircase" by Bobbie J. Cabot Chapter Eight: |
Drew tried to track down the Freshman or Sophomore that was stalking her. She printed a picture from her surveillance cameras’ SD cards and asked for Sabrina’s help to quietly identify him. She was sure Sabrina knew enough people among the Freshmen and Sophomores to identify the guy.
It turned out that Drew didn’t need to do anything else – Sabrina knew the guy.
“Yeah, you’re right - that guy’s a Sophomore. That’s Screech Powers. We just call him ‘Screech.’ His brother has a car he got from an estate auction. Screech thought it’s some kind of super-car, and is better than yours. He borrows it all the time and he’d make the tires squeal when he drives it. So, ‘Screech.’”
“Jeeze! Another motor head.”
Sabrina giggled. “Look who’s talking? Betcha there’s a picture of you in that outfit you wore in that race on the wall of every car freak in school, including Screech’s.”
“God!”
Sabrina giggled. “Did you get the ownership of Phil’s car transferred to your name?”
“Ah, no.”
“You did race for pinks, right?”
“Yeah, but transferring the car’s title isn’t automatic. You have to have the New York State DMV approve the transfer by processing the registration papers, submit the bill of sale or transfer of ownership, et cetera et cetera.” She sighed.
“It’s not automatic?”
“’Course not.”
“I’ve always wondered - why ‘pink?’”
“California title certificates used to be pink. They’re not anymore, but that’s how the term ‘racing for pinks’ began.”
“I thought it was because it was a girl thing.”
“Well, no...” Drew shrugged.
Sabrina laughed. “Well, anyway. Why are you asking about Screech?”
“Can I tell you something?” Drew whispered conspiratorially.
“Yes.”
“Screech has been hanging around my house. I think he’s been stalking me.”
Sabrina looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Stalking?”
“Yeah. He’s been seen creeping around my house without me knowing. I just wanted to talk to him about it. Try to clear things up, and tell him to stop.”
“Oh...”
“He could have knocked on the door, you know, and said hi, but he didn’t. I just wanted him to know that I know.”
Drew, of course, knew that Sabrina was stalking her, too. Not exactly “stalking” though, but Drew knew that Sabrina kept on passing by and standing in front of her house, but not coming over and actually saying hello.
Sabrina gulped. “If Drew knew about Screech,” she thought, “then she surely knows about me...”
“Do you know where he lives?” Drew asked.
“I can look it up.”
“Can you? Maybe you can go with me – I plan to visit him this afternoon.”
“Ummm, okay?”
“Coolness.”
Sabrina was excited. It was the first time for her to be riding in Drew’s little blue convertible. She heard that Drew calls her car “Tiger” and Sabrina started referring to it as “Tiger” as well.
Sabrina felt a little too underdressed – she wanted to look good for Drew, and here she was, just shorts, sneakers and a tight little tanktop. But Drew said she looked super-sexy. Sabrina giggled at that, but still wished she was a little more dressed up.
She wished, for the umpteenth time that she had a little more up top. She couldn’t help but envy Drew’s C’s, and kept sneaking looks at her.
As for Drew, she wore a tight, long-sleeved Henley, a flippy pleated skirt that ended well above the knee, and pointy cowboy boots. Sabrina thought that Drew’s outfit seemed just as simple as hers, but with the designer labels, the color combinations and Drew’s figure, it was so much better than hers.
For some people, looking beautiful just came automatically. What can you do, she thought, and just basked in the glow of Drew’s beauty and charm.
She kept on asking inconsequential questions just so she could keep on hearing Drew talk, but they were already pulling up to Screech’s house.
Drew sighed. “Well. Here we are.”
“What’s the plan?” Sabrina asked.
“Well, I just need to tell him directly, and then leave it to him.”
“You think he’ll quit stalking you?”
Drew shrugged. “I don’t know. But all I can do is tell him I know what he’s been doing, that I don’t like it, and that he should stop.”
“Will that be enough?”
“Who knows. But I have to leave it to his conscience that he stops. If he doesn’t then I’ll take legal action.”
“You’re being too nice, Drew.”
Drew stopped and looked at her. “You think so? Actually, Sabrina, if the guy wants to do it, he’ll continue doing it. I think people know what’s right or wrong, and it depends on him if he wants to do right or not. Legal action is only necessary if he doesn’t want to do right. But I need to give him a chance to choose voluntarily. You know what I mean?”
The way Drew looked at her made Sabrina realize that she knew. But why this? Was she torturing her? They walked up to the Powers’ door.
Sabrina rang the bell and a middle-aged lady opened the door. “Yes?”
“Hi. Mrs. Powers?”
“That’s me. How can I help you girls?”
“Hi. I’m Sabrina. This is Drew. I’m one of Sam’s classmates. Is Sam around?”
“Oh! Well, come on in, my dear.”
Sabrina and Drew stepped in.
Mrs. Powers gestured to the couch. “Have a seat. I’ll go call him. Sam!” She went upstairs to fetch him presumably, and Sabrina and Drew sat down.
It was a cozy, comfy living room with a large TV on one end. A magazine rack stood on the side, piled high with various fashion, sports and car magazines. Sabrina gravitated to the fashion mags and Drew to the car magazines.
“Nice place,” Drew commented as she leafed through a magazine. “Very homey and cozy.”
“First time for me to be here myself,” Sabrina said.
“His mom seems to be normal,” Drew commented.
“What do you mean by normal?”
Drew gave Sabrina a razzberry.
Mrs. Powers came back. “Sam’s coming down. In the meantime, can I get you girls something? Juice or a Pepsi?”
“Diet Pepsi?”
“I think I have a couple of diet Cokes?”
“That’d be great Mrs. Powers. Thank you.”
Mrs. Powers left and came back with a couple of ice-cold Coke Zeroes and a bowl of Snyder’s sourdough pretzels. “I’ll leave you two, then. I’m sure Sam will be down shortly.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Powers.”
Drew nibbled on a pretzel and sipped her Coke from a straw. But in fifteen minutes, he still wasn’t down. “He’s taking his time, huh?” Drew commented.
“I sort of understand.” Sabrina said.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m sure he saw us coming up in your little blue car. He probably got nervous and is probably going through outfits right now.”
“Nahhh. That’s not true.”
“I’m sure of it, Drew.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I’ll tell you later. Here he comes.”
Screech came downstairs full of awkwardness and nervous energy. Sabrina was right. He was dressed in a pair of chinos and sneakers, a long-sleeved Henley and wore it like a sweater over a dark-red polo shirt. He had combed his hair, and was actually looking pretty okay.
“Hey, guys,” he said and waved awkwardly. “What’s up?”
“Hey, Sam,” Sabrina said. “You know Drew?”
“Everybody knows Drew. Hi, Drew,” he said. He sat down in front of them.
“Hey, Sam,” Drew said. “Is your mom around?”
“Oh, she’s probably out back, messing around in her little garden. Why?”
“Well, I have some stuff to talk to you about, that I’m sure you don’t want your mom to hear.”
From there she recounted what she saw in their cameras. She explained that her dad was an executive in a big company, and they had to have surveillance cameras. In the cameras, she found pictures of him hanging around their house.
In order to save him from embarrassing himself by denying it, Drew brought out some pictures she printed on her computer. On one was Screech looking into their living room window, and other pictures of him creeping around their house.
Drew, being kind, didn’t even ask why he was there, and just asked him to stop. She said she’ll make sure that the video and pictures won’t be seen by anyone, not even by her dad, but if he didn’t stop stalking her, she’s gonna show it to her dad, and from there they’d take legal action.
He was about to protest that he wasn’t stalking her, but Drew raised a peremptory hand.
“You don’t have to say anything, Sam. Whatever the circumstances may have been, I’m not gonna try and argue. I just want it to stop. Okay?”
“Drew, I didn’t...”
“Okay?”
Drew looked at him. Kind but relentless, nevertheless.
“...Okay...”
“You know, I’m a pretty casual kind of a girl,” Drew said. “You can always come up and say hi, you know. It’s cool.”
“Okay, Drew.”
Drew tried to change the topic.
“Bri was saying you got a cool car?”
He brightened visibly. “Yeah! ...well it’s my older brother’s car, actually, but he’s gone and signed up for the army, and he’s given it to me. Wanna go see?”
“Sure!” Drew said, and the two of them followed him to their garage.
“Tadahhh!” Screech said, and whipped off the dust cover. He revealed a 1966 black-and-gray Dodge Charger, with small, chrome accents and a flat-black hood with scoop.
“Wow!” Drew enthused, and looked through the car’s interior and peeked underneath the hood. Sabrina politely accompanied them and tried to look interested while they talked cars. Screech even proudly stated that his Charger could give Drew’s “supercar” a run for its money.
“Supercar,” Drew chuckled. “My little Tiger’s hardly a supercar.”
When they finished their little chat, they agreed on a little race-off sometime, but not a street race. They’ll do it in a proper racetrack. And Screech insisted on no strings attached – no racing for pinks or anything, and Drew laughed.
“Are you scared or something, Sam?” Drew said, and poked him in a friendly way.
The two of them left in a friendly way as well, and Screech said he’ll see them in school.
“That went well, I think,” Drew said as she drove away. “But, now, I’m gonna have to have a little race,” she giggled. “Oh, well.”
“You didn’t want to race?” Sabrina said.
“Well, not really. But I don’t mind. I think it’ll be fun.”
Before Drew brought Sabrina home, she said they should have a little snack. They decided on the Staten Island Mall, which was about a fifteen-minute drive from where they were.
After parking in the fairly full parking lot, the two of them decided on Applebee’s. Drew said she hasn’t been to an Applebee’s for a long time and was hoping for a change.
“We just need to be sure to tip eighteen percent,” Sabrina giggled, referring to that thing that was all over the internet before.
The mall’s Applebee’s was mostly empty – only one other table was occupied, and those people were already leaving as the waitress came to take Drew's and Sabrina's order.
Drew ordered a brownie, a “churros s’mores” and a “triple chocolate meltdown,” and two large tumblers of ice water to chase them down, as well as two forks.
Sabrina couldn’t stop smiling as they shared the brownie, s’mores and cake. Normally, she wouldn’t be eating so much sugar but she didn’t mind so long as she was with Drew. She’ll just spend an hour on her mom’s treadmill tonight and tomorrow, she thought.
It was a pleasant couple of hours, and she got to know Drew more, although it ended up with her talking more about herself than Drew. A few customers came and went, so they were more-or-less alone. It was the mid-afternoon lull, and only a few came in to eat.
As for Drew, it was fascinating to hear how... similar Sabrina was to the other girls she knew. After thinking that, Drew felt guilty that she was objectifying Sabrina, that she had labeled Sabrina a “lesbian,” attaching all the lez stereotypes to her, rather than just thinking of her as just a person. Besides, whatever stereotype she had in her head about lesbians was probably wrong anyway.
But whatever she thought of Sabrina, it was clear that the girl was hung up on her. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but she had to make it clear to Sabrina that she was straight, but at the same time to think of her as a friend. Drew didn’t refer to Sabrina’s infatuation with her, and only dropped comments about her being straight, and they being just friends just as part of their conversation, but Sabrina picked up on what she was saying nevertheless.
Drew could feel the fun feeling they had to start to disappear. Sabrina’s expression was clearly a sad one, but Drew moved over to give her a hug.
“I will always be on your side, Sabrina,” Drew said. “Always.”
Drew knew she made a mistake when she said that because Sabrina started crying.
“Please, Bri,” Drew said. “Don’t.” She didn’t know what else to do so she just kept on hugging her. She knew enough of girls now that she just had to let her friend cry it out, so she remained quiet.
When Sabrina’s sniffles had petered out, Drew knew the worst of it was over now. She reached for her purse, took out a packet of tissues. Sabrina blew her nose and wiped her eyes, giving Drew a grateful but sad smile.
Drew took a couple of tissues and dabbed at Sabrina’s cheeks, getting rid of the ruined makeup. She asked for a glass of warm water from a passing waitress.
She looked around and noted that there were still no other customers in the restaurant and decided it was okay. “Can I?” Drew asked Sabrina. Sabrina didn’t know what Drew meant but she nodded nevertheless.
Drew brought out a little white jar of Eve Lom Cleanser from her bag and used her fingers to rub a generous amount on Sabrina’s face.
Just like most Islander girls, Sabrina’s makeup was, well, “generous” was the most polite word that Drew thought of. But she didn’t say anything and just slathered the cold cream on Sabrina. When Drew was done, she then used a tissue to gently wipe the cold cream away, and took away Sabrina’s makeup with it.
She then got another tissue, dipped it in the water and wiped away the remaining cold cream.
Sabrina looked at Drew, extremely surprised that Drew was actually cleaning her face, but she let her do it. She sneaked looks around the restaurant. She was relieved to note that no one was around to see Drew and her.
After Drew was done, she took her compact and allowed Sabrina to take a look at her work.
“You know,” Drew said conversationally, “it’s a shame that you hide how pretty you are under all that makeup.”
If it was some other person, Sabrina would be very insulted, but it was Drew, and she put it in such a mild and friendly way that Sabrina actually considered her words constructively.
“You actually look better like that,” Drew said. “You know - clean and fresh and shining.” She then paused. “Can I try something?” She said after a moment.
“What do you mean?”
Drew smiled cheerily. “Just trust me.”
Drew then wiped Sabrina’s face a little more, grabbed Sabrina’s purse (which surprised Sabrina but she didn’t stop her), looked around and brought out her eyelash, eyeshadow and face powder. Drew then got her own purse and brought out her blush, eyebrow pencil, lip gloss and a little pointy brush applicator.
Drew then started applying the makeup.
From what Sabrina saw and felt, Drew was being very restrained.
She then had Sabrina bite on a tissue with her lips.
Sabrina did so, and it took a lot of her lipstick off. Drew then started painting her lips with her lip gloss.
“Done!” she said and brought out her compact again.
Sabrina accepted it and looked at her face in the little mirror. What she saw was her face, but made up very differently. From first glance, it was like she wasn’t wearing makeup at all, but it was definitely better than her normal un-made-up face, and light years better than her usual made-up one.
Her eyebrows were just highlighted enough with Drew’s brown pencil that they now stood out from her pale skin but not too strongly. There was just a trace of green eyeshadow on her eyelids to make her green eyes look even more intense, but was so light, it was not noticeable unless one looked at it directly. It made her old eyeshadow makeup look like clown makeup.
Her cheeks looked mostly bare except for a touch of pink at the cheekbones. Overall, it looked like her face was bare but she was so much prettier than she did with her old makeup.
“Your usual style is great for when you’re cheering, but for everyday, and at school, I think this makes you look so much better. And sexier.” Drew giggled.
“I think you’re right,” Sabrina said. “Where did you learn to do this?”
“Do you know Benzaiten?”
“OMG! The beauty salon? You’re not a ‘Friend of Julian’s’ are you?” Sabrina asked. She was referring to the membership card for the beauty salon that was well known in Saint George, Brighton, Castleton Corners and fancy Todt Hill.
Drew reached into her bag and brought out her card. Sabrina examined it and saw the name “Pixie.”
“Is that your membership name?” Sabrina asked.
Drew shrugged. “That’s what Julian likes to call me.”
Sabrina noted the membership number, “B-80.”
The “Friend of Julian’s” membership cards that she’d seen before had purely numeric numbers four digits and up. But she knew Drew’s card was genuine. What she’d seen before were probably the fake ones. Those fake cards were all over in school – most girls carried them.
“Julian showed me some techniques,” Drew said, “as well as matching colors with skin tone and hair, and all that.”
Sabrina’s eyes grew large. The owner and chief stylist of Benzaiten was a famous hairdresser and beauty consultant. That’s why Ben’s always had such a long waiting list. And Drew talked about him like he was a friend. Instead of doubting Drew, Sabrina was more apt to believe it given the makeover she did, and all in a matter of minutes.
“I gotta see this,” Sabrina said, and went over to the bathroom. Drew didn’t follow and just nibbled on the leftover brownie, waiting for her to come back.
Sabrina came back after fifteen minutes. By that time, Drew had finished off the brownie. “So?” Drew giggled. “How do you like my work?”
“It’s pretty good, Drew. You gotta teach me how you did it.”
“I’m not that good, actually, but maybe we can do that sometime soon.”
Sabrina grinned shyly. “I think I’d like that.”
She sat down, got a little bit more cake, and tried to resume their chat. It started up a little awkwardly, but after a while, it was like they were back to normal. The topic of discussion was mostly about Drew’s time in Benzaiten.
Like most girl-talk that Drew has had with her friends, their chat moved on to clothes. Sabrina was very impressed with Drew’s style and asked where she shopped. Drew told her. It surprised Sabrina that much of Drew's wardrobe was just from the mall, although she had a lot of couture stuff, too.
Drew said it’s just about mixing and matching to make off-the-shelf mall stuff feel like they’re one-of-a-kind. She said that, one of these days, they should shop together.
Sabrina asked when she last shopped, and Drew said it was actually just yesterday. She shopped with Iola and Callie for their Hawaii vacation next week. Drew giggled when she said they shopped in New Jersey instead of Manhattan but they weren’t going for high-end flash – just good looking and serviceable clothes.
Sabrina felt a little coal of jealousy when Drew told her she was going on a vacation with Iola and Callie. But she knew they’re best friends, so she shouldn’t resent it, or them, but she did. Sabrina knew she needed to put herself in the right headspace. Because if she didn’t, she might just alienate Drew.
- - - - -
Their sunset drive home was mostly quiet, but Drew thought it wasn’t a bad kind of silence. She sneaked looks at Sabrina as the wind gently tousled her red hair, and Drew had to catch her breath at her beauty. Her body needed a bit more maturity compared to Iola and Callie, but only just a touch. Drew thought Sabrina was just as pretty as the afternoon sunset.
And Drew wondered if she'd have the same problem with Sabrina as she did with Callie...
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Drew Nance Book 2: "The Hidden Staircase" by Bobbie J. Cabot Chapter Nine: |
It was several days since Drew and Sabrina had visited Screech Powers and had their heart-to-heart. Since then, the Drew house had become cheerleader central. Most would come over just to chat or hang out. Some of the girls sometimes brought their boyfriends, but the boys were a little wary coming over.
Drew was used to guys being shy around her, especially when their girlfriends were around. This time was no different. Still, Drew tried to be as friendly as possible, and did her best to be a good host. She’d be ready with guy-friendly munchies, and, when there were no boys around, she’d gravitate towards more to just plain chips, diet ice cream and diet sodas.
Their entertainment system was given a workout that it didn’t usually get, and everyone was pleasantly pleased with her selection of music and shows downloaded from Netflix or Tivo, or her selection of “vintage” (that was Paige’s and Heather’s term) DVDs. Drew had on-hand microwave popcorn for the boys and air-popped popcorn for the girls just for impromptu movie sessions.
Of course, the girls with boyfriends got the couches and sofas and the rest of them just sat on the carpet. Drew herself didn’t mind coz she could cuddle with some of the girls, just a girlfriend kind of thing, of course, although Drew couldn’t help but... react, especially when Callie was the one she was cuddling with.
Perhaps it was a female intuition or something, but Sabrina sensed something when Callie was the one almost always staying close to Drew, so she would cuddle with Drew, too. There were many moments that Drew would be sandwiched between Callie and Sabrina, and Drew basked in the friendship of her teammates.
When her dad would arrive home, it was almost a signal for everyone to behave (not that Drew’s friends were rowdy or anything). And most of them would say good night soon after, leaving, usually, Callie, Iola and Sabrina to have dinner with Drew and her dad.
Sadly, though, most of their dinners were takeout, but everyone knew the situation in the Nance house – there was no one available to cook, but it was Carson who usually brought the food, and he usually gets it from the high-end restaurants in Manhattan, so no one complained much. Carson would also pour some wine during dinner, but limited them to about a fourth of a glass each.
And after a pleasant little after-dessert talk, everyone would say goodnight. Carson would usually instruct his driver to bring the three girls home, with Drew usually riding with them.
The last to be brought home was usually Sabrina. The first time Drew brought her home after dinner, Sabrina insisted that she accompany her inside so she could be introduced to Sabrina’s family.
She made quite the impression, especially with the dad and Sabrina’s two four-year-old twin brothers.
Sabrina’s mother gave Drew the Third Degree, but it was okay. Sabrina’s sexual orientation was not something that her family didn’t know, and they didn’t really hide that fact, which Drew appreciated. Drew could only assume that Sabrina’s mother was interrogating her because she was a prospective suitor for her girl.
That felt a bit old-fashioned, but Drew didn’t let that bother her too much, and just rode it through. In the end, either Sabrina’s protestation that she was “just a friend” or just Drew herself, was able to impress her, and Drew found herself chatting with her parents very casually.
The two little boys were very quiet, and were looking at Drew with wide eyes. They hung on her every word, and when she looked at the two or tried to chat them up, they were suddenly stricken with shyness and hid behind Sabrina or their mom.
“I think they like you,” Sabrina’s mom said.
When she was about to leave, she squatted down to be on the same level as the two kids. She said goodbye to the boys, and one of them bravely came forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek before running back to his mom.
Everyone laughed at that and Sabrina walked her out.
“Listen,” Sabrina said, “thanks for dinner, and for bringing me home. My folks appreciate it. And I do, too.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
Sabrina didn’t respond and just gave her a sisterly kiss on the cheek before closing their front door.
- - - - -
When the time for their trip to Hawaii was imminent, Lt. Hardy texted, and Otto called. Drew texted the Lieutenant, and promised to pass by Otto's garage right away.
“Hey, Otto!” Drew called when she got to Otto’s garage. She had the hardtop on Tiger and drove over. Otto came out. “Hey, kid! Come to take a look at your new car?” Drew got out of her little blue twin-top and rubbed her hands together in excitement. “You know it!”
Otto laughed and walked her to the back of the big garage.
“We did everything you asked. We replaced the engine with another Mercedes engine, and were able to sell the original for a good price, so that'll bring your cost down as well. We didn’t touch the factory brakes, no changes on anything major except that we had to disconnect the suspension mounts from the unibody to put in the solenoid servos. We...”
“You know, of course, that I’m not really following you...” Drew said. Otto laughed.
After rounding a big Volvo whose front end was being serviced, they came up to Drew’s Peugeot RCZ Sports Coupe.
She had to stop. It was that beautiful.
“Kinda grabs you, huh?”
“It’s beautiful!” Drew said in awe, and ran her hand over the bonnet.
“You asked for ‘candy apple red.’ We looked for the best ready-mixed candy apple red we could find, and decided to go with PPG’s pre-mixed color. That not only saved you time, but some some cash, too. How do you like it?”
Drew didn’t say anything and continued to run her hands over the RCZ’s surface. Otto just grinned, proud of what they’ve been able to do. He felt bad that they had to take off the RCZ’s original factory paint, but it wasn’t his car so he didn’t allow that to bother him.
“Like your Twin-Top, we took off the badges, like you specified, we got the ‘Autobot’ badges from that online store you told us about, and put them on. The badges are also in the subtle gunmetal gray you specified so they won’t be too eye-catching.”
Drew nodded. She touched its new tire rims. Instead of the popular low-profile tires, Otto had installed a set of wide, drag-style all-weather tires mounted on pure-chrome drag tire rims. The tires were not too wide to stick out beyond the RCZ's wheel wells much so they didn’t look completely like muscle-racecar tires, yet it gave Drew’s RCZ a one-of-a-kind look (not that the RCZ wasn’t cute enough on its own). Otto knew that Drew had a thing for drag racing so he had these put in. One would have expected low profile tires, but the original owner kept the rims AND the original tires. Otto COULD have gotten low profile rims and low profile tires, but he was working within a budget, and besides, he probably wouldn't have been able to get originals.
“We also replaced the standard steel spare with a light-weight space saver spare but made it better-looking with a nice paint respray,” he said. “If you put it on, though, it'll still be obvious that you have a spare on. So we also got an emergency repair kit in case you didn't want to replace the tire for a while.”
Otto then went through everything else that they did on the Peugeot.
The next thing Otto talked about was, like in Drew’s twin-top, Otto’s upholstery guy made detachable shoulder-to-hip straps to attach to the seat belts. When attached, the standard three-point seat belts became four-point safety harnesses. Otto also said they reinforced the frame and put T45 tubing inside the side frames, which made it as good as an honest-to-goodness roll cage just like the reinforced frames of real rally cars - more than adequate protection in case of a rollover, crash or collision. They were also able to retain the airbags, too.
Since the RCZ was a four-seater already (it was a 2+2 Seater), no modifications to the cabin needed to be done, and that saved some more bucks.
Otto also brought Drew’s attention to the replaced roof. The handmade fiberglass-and-acrylic replacement roof mimicked the original “double-bubble” roof, and Otto’s crew made this super-light immitation hardtop detatchable. That means Drew can go convertible if she wanted - Otto pointed out a black canvas convertible roof that was rolled up in a hidden compartment. When the hardtop was detatched, Drew can roll up or roll down the canvas roof via a switch on the dash.
Otto also showed Drew a little detachable chrome rack that Drew could securely clip on top of the trunk hood. It was light enough and designed in such a way that it wasn't in the way of the retracting canvas roof mechanism. This way, the capacity of the trunk was offset a little bit. He didn't make the rack, actually - it was just an after-market accessory of a Peugeot 206 he found while looking for “bling” for Drew.
He also included a fin that he copied from the RCZ R (not much of a fin - it was more like a slightly contoured hood). He explained that these fins will make the car perform better at high speed. They were standard to the RCZ R, not the RCZ, so if someone who knew about Peugeots saw her car, he’d probably assume it was an RCZ R. He also said that this should reduce the kind of shimmying Drew experienced in her Twin-Top when she drove it at speed.
Drew thanked Otto, and she had the guys put the rack and the seatbelt attachments on the back seat for now.
Also, the RCZ now sported brand-new scissor doors that swung up very like the doors on the classic Lamborghini Countach, Diablo and Aventador (that's partly why scissor doors are also called Lambo doors). Many would consider modifying the doors as a kind of... mutilation of the car's original design, but the doors still looked like, and were still mostly, the originals, except that they can now swing upwards as well as open normally. So no big deal.
Drew tried it on for size and she found the car very comfortable and easy to get into and out of, as per her request, and though the scissor door mechanism was extremely cool and high-tech, she found, however, that it was difficult to reach up and close the doors when they were up, but Otto showed a little switch on the dash that pulled the doors down. They were slightly slow, though, since they were only powered by the doors’ power-window motors, but Otto explained that, once a door was low enough that one can reach for the handle, the passenger can pull it down the rest of the way instead of waiting for the motor to close it completely. Otto even demoed how to trigger it from long distance via the car's remote-control fob.
He then showed another surprise: the doors could be swung out horizontally like the original, or opened to swing upwards like Lambo doors, but the passenger would have to pick either horizontal or vertical. Otto also took great pains to point out that when the doors are swung up, they completely cleared the door frames so that they didn't impede access or egress the way Lambo doors usually did.
As Otto and his mechanics demoed it, Drew got so excited she was having a hard time to not jump up and down.
The next surprise was an improved anti-theft kit, which added a GSM cellular tracker and alarm (all Drew needed to do was plug in a cell phone SIMM), and an anti-theft steering and accelerator lock. This means, aside from the standard alarm and ignition lock, if someone broke into the car, an automated phone call would be placed to her cell phone, and GPS coordinates would be sent constantly to an app on her phone, and, if the car wasn't moving yet, or the car stopped moving, the steering and acceleration would be locked and the hand brake would be engaged. Also, a very loud car alarm that sounded like a police siren replaced the standard alarm.
The fourth surprise was the suspension and steering. Otto’s guys managed to replace the suspension with softer street shocks without touching the brakes. The RCZ now had a softer ride, though, when the car was lowered, the suspension locks solid, making the car feel like it had no shocks at all (which was typical of low-profile race cars.
The fifth modification was a change in the exhaust. The RCZ now ran as quietly as a cat, and this improved the performance as well.
Otto then showed his final surprise. By turning a little toggle switch, the car could be raised an extra seven inches, thereby more than doubling its ground clearance. It was sort of like the effect lowriders had, but instead of making it jump up and down, the movement was slow – almost as slow as the inflation of a tire. It was only meant to prevent the undercarriage from scraping on bumps and potholes, not to make the car dance around. And, since the servos were mounted where the trucks mounted, the car’s structure was not compromised at all. And, even when raised, with its improved independent suspension, it could still corner like it was on rails.
But, other than that, the servos gave Drew's RCZ another extra feature: By turning the switch the other way, the car would be lowered to about a couple of inches from the ground: this plus under-chassis rubber fins that were deployed when it was that low allowed the RCZ to hug the ground even when just running at thirty - Drew's traction at high-speed was crazy-extreme, and gave the car an extra twenty MPHs. At least. Provided there were no potholes...
Otto also explained that Drew could keep the car in either position permanently so no worries, and when Drew flicked another switch, the shocks would become stiff, which was needed when driving under full speed.
Otto then went over some of the problems – the engine well had to be modified, and then reinforced, just like Tiger.
The Mercedes engine was expected to give at least 160MPH, which was more than decent for any sports car, but Drew’s Tiger could do so much better on straightaways since it was lighter than the Mercedes. Drew told Otto she reached 190MPH when she did that race. Otto did believe that the Twin-Top could exceed 160, but not 190. Still he didn’t openly question Drew.
But with the additions to Drew’s new RCZ, it wasn’t as light on its feet anymore because of added weight. Otto therefore believed it’s top speed will probably be lower than Tiger’s by at least fifteen to twenty MPH – maybe even more.
And though the new, softer shocks made for a more comfortable ride, it took away from its ability to make turns as tight as Tiger at high speed, and would most probably cause it to scrape its underside when it does, or maybe even roll the car. Then again, when the new hydraulics was set to its lowest profile, the shocks would become as stiff as a Formula One's, and it would corner like it was on rails. But then again, when it’s raised, the airflow would be affected and it might not be advisable to go full speed anyway.
Drew made a suggestion: “why not make a kind of change that when the car’s up, if the car hits the speeds when the airflow becomes critical, the hydraulics will automatically bring it down? Or maybe lock the speed so it won’t go over a critical point, depending on the position of the shocks.”
Otto looked at her. Obviously, he didn’t think of it.
“Ummm, we can work on that and install it when you bring it over next time.” Drew giggled at his nonplussed look.
Otto sighed and continued on.
“Like before, we also put a limiter switch under the dash so, with it on, you can't exceed 120MPH. We could have put in an NOS kit, too, Drew, but that could damage the engine, and Mercedes AMG CLA45 engines are hard to come by. But since the total weight isn't that far from the original RCZ's weight, I think you can hit speeds close to your souped-up Twin-Top. So an NOS kit would actually have been overkill.”
Drew nodded. “Did you replace the gas tank with a fuel cell, like you did Tiger?”
“Ummm, no. I've just been told by my new mechanic that fuel cell bladders have a shelf life, and if you use standard fuel, or keep fuel in the fuel cell a long time or not drain it when not in use, it's possible the fuel cell's foam and the bladder could degrade faster, and clog fuel lines and fuel pumps...”
“Drain? But I don't do that with Tiger...”
“I know. Apparently, you need to drain fuel cells. Anyway, we did the next best thing for your RCZ and put in a baffled tank instead that does some of the same things. Properly modified, of course, so as not to cause 'fuel starvation' that baffled tanks sometimes do.
“And we have a replacement baffle tank for your, ummm, 'Tiger,' too. Let me know if you want me to replace its fuel cell.”
“Do we have any left in my budget?”
“Well, if I can take your two cells and the fuel pump in trade, plus the saving we already made, I can do that for free. They're less than six months old so I can still sell them. I can even knock off a little bit from your bill.”
Drew clapped her hands delightedly.
“Now, going back to your RCZ's new engine, we do have a compromise – we’ve put in some hidden ducts so that, when you hit high-enough speeds and you open the ducts, the extra airflow will supplement the turbocharger. Hopefully, that will improve the engine’s performance enough to offset the extra weight our changes added, and, incidentally, improve the traction and aerodynamics, too. But a properly-installed NOS in another car may have your RCZ's engine beat. That's not likely, but possible.”
“No other engine improvements, then?”
“No - that's it.”
“Well, why not go batmobile and put on a couple of rockets or something?”
That made Otto pause again – yet another idea he didn’t think of.
“Hmmm... Yeah. Rockets on cars might be illegal... But, I think I might be able to find an alternative...”
Drew giggled. “I’m sure you will.”
“Okay. I’ll have something when you get back.
“Anyway, it goes without saying, you can’t register the car with Peugeot anymore. The car isn’t, in any way, stock anymore. They won’t be happy with that.”
“I can’t? Does that mean my buying her was illegal?”
“Oh, no. It’s just that Peugeot won't want to touch it anymore. You'll have to have it serviced somewhere else, if ever. Or with us, of course.”
These things didn’t fully register with Drew, of course. She was too excited. She grabbed the RCZ’s key from Otto, and gave him Tiger’s instead.
Otto laughed and closed the door for her.
“Oh, wait!“ Drew said. “I wanted you to do a repaint of Tiger!”
“Repaint?”
“Yeah. I mentioned that before. Can you have her redone in off-the-shelf black?”
“Black? That’ll be a big change. But cheap. I can do that.”
“Yayyy! And, don’t worry, I’ll take care of the registration changes. Oh, also...” She handed Otto the original Opel and “Tigra” badges. “Can you also put back the badges and the old rims?”
“Sorry, Drew, I sold the rims months ago.”
“Oh… Well, okay. Can you maybe change Tiger’s current wheel rim, or paint them in brushed aluminum so they’ll look like stock rims again?”
“Easily done. So what you’re trying to do is to make it look like stock?”
“As close to it without changing any of her insides, though.”
“Gotcha. In that case, I’ll try and get a complete set of the original rims, and pick a type of black closest to the factory color. How about the inside? Surely you don’t want the seats replaced with standard?”
“No, but can you replace the upholstery to a color and material that looks like the standard upholstery?”
“Right. Easily done.”
“Ummm, how much would this cost?” Drew cringed.
“Well, if I can get your current rims in trade, it’ll cost you nothing.”
“Yayyy! Thanks!”
After settling up with Otto and getting the car’s new title papers (Otto had already facilitated registering her new RCZ with the DMV under her name using his connections), Drew started up the engine and started to drive back to Staten Island in her new Peugeot RCZ Sports Coupe. She had a few thousand left and decided to keep it in her dresser drawer and deposit it in her account later.
Anyway, she couldn’t stop herself from showing off a bit, and made a little circuit of Manhattan before she went home. It got a lot of attention from all the bystanders and pedestrians, which was the whole point.
Since she was in downtown New York, she took that opportunity to pass by the Tate Center and went to the building’s underground motor pool. She showed her Permanent Visitor’s ID to the helpful little clerk that met her, and the guy stuck a new car sticker on her RCZ’s windscreen. The guy noted that she already had another car registered – a blue Opel. Since she was only entitled to one registered car, he had to cancel the Opel’s. Drew said that was okay.
After her little joyride, she finally went to the island via Brooklyn and the bridge, went home to drop off the rack and seatbelt attachments in their garage, put the remaining extra cash in her drawer in her room upstairs, and then went by Callie’s.
When she pulled up to Callie's, Callie and Aunt Arlene came out and oohed and ahhhed at Drew’s new ride. “What happened to Tiger?” Callie asked.
Drew shrugged. “She's still around, but as soon as the new owner shows up, she'll be taken away. I sold her to get this one. I'm calling her Arcee,” Drew giggled.
“Awww,” Callie said. “That’s too bad. Tiger was a very good little car.”
“Wanna go for a ride?” Drew waggled her eyebrows.
“Sure! Gimme five minutes.” She rushed back inside.
“Hey, Aunt Arlene,” Drew said to Callie’s aunt who was still going over the car. “How do you like my new RCZ?”
“Fancy ride, Drew.”
Drew giggled.
“How much did it cost?”
“Not much actually,” she lied. “It was a junker I had picked up and fixed.”
“But it still must have cost a lot.” She had a disapproving look on her face.
“Oh, Aunt Arlene! I didn’t spend any money!” She leaned out of her window and whispered to her conspiratorially. “Actually, I spent the money from selling Tiger, and the money I got from selling Phil back his car. He bought it back even though it wasn’t working anymore!”
They both giggled.
“I heard about that,” Aunt Arlene said. “Is it true that he paid forty thousand for it?”
“Oh, no!” Drew grinned. “That’s what he SAYS he paid. He actually paid a lot less than that, but I’m letting him have that one. It'll help him save face with his buds.”
“So, no out-of-pocket costs for this one?”
“None at all! I even managed to save a little from Phil's money.”
“Well, I'm proud of you, Drew.” She gave Drew a high-five.
“I’m ready!” Callie came down.
She hadn’t changed her outfit – she still wore her cutoff jeans and the little baby-tee, but had put on a leather jacket over it, and put on a pair of medium-heeled low-boots.
“Bye, Aunt Arlene,” she said, and bussed her aunt on the cheek.
“Okay. I’ll be out by the time you get back, though. I got a bit of overtime at the hospital.” She turned to Drew. “Drew? Not too late, okay? Even though it’s not a school night.”
“No prob, Aunt Arlene.”
“Hey!” Callie said. “There’s no handle!”
Drew giggled. “Oh, sorry! Just reach into the little cubby and the handle inside, or push the button right beside the cubby.”
Callie did and the door swung up.
“Wow! That was unexpected.”
“Great, huh?”
“Just like one of those fancy Italian cars!”
“The Lamborghinis, you mean.” Drew giggled.
“’Kay.” Callie got in, strained upwards a bit to reach the door.
“No need, Cal,” Drew said and pressed a button on her dash. It swung down and clicked when it locked in place. “Coolness,” Callie said and waved to Aunt Arlene through the window.
“Seeya, Aunt Arlene!”
And, with a muted roar, they sped away.
Callie said that Iola was with the ex-Varsity cheerleaders having lunch. Callie was actually invited as well but she had to do some stuff with her Aunt Arlene. Drew knew about the lunch because Iola texted everyone about it. Callie suggested that they should go, so she could make the lunch. Drew agreed so Callie texted Iola that they were coming over.
They went to Meatballs, the newly opened place near the school. It had opened just before summer break.
Iola was there meeting with the seven outgoing Varsity cheerleaders. Drew, Sabrina and the others, except for Polly and the Kates, knew this, and Drew thought it was a good idea that Iola keep her date. She and Callie were the only other Varsity cheerleaders from the old team that were still on good terms with the outgoing seven cheerleaders, including Janine. So they thought Iola’s lunch thing was a good way of keeping tabs on them.
The food in Meatballs wasn’t too exceptional, and the service was only so-so, but what it did feature was a big, paved parking area large enough for several hundred cars. Though parking wasn’t free, Meatballs was rapidly becoming the most popular place for the kids because they could park and show off their rides. Staten Island was the one borough of New York where cars were part of the regular teen scene.
Phil was there in his shiny black Ford Pickup. Everyone knew that his Escalade still wasn’t fixed, so he was driving around in his Ford for the moment.
As expected, he was holding court over the kids hanging out in the lot but as soon as Drew came out in her shiny red car and drove down the street, conversation stopped.
They watched as Drew got a ticket at the parking lot’s gate and drove slowly to an empty spot near the restaurant’s entrance.
Drew switched off, and the muted sound of her engine stopped. With an almost imperceptible whine, the RCZ’s Lambo doors swung up. The kids looking over went “oooh!” as they saw the doors swing up.
After a beat, Drew and Callie stepped out. In the silence, they waved to Phil and the others and went into the restaurant while the RCZ’s doors slowly closed automatically.
As the restaurant doors closed behind them, they could hear the conversations outside start up again. The two of them giggled.
Iola waved to the two as soon as they were spotted, and they came over. She was there with Janine and the six other ex-Varsity cheerleaders having lunch.
“Hey, guys!” Iola said coming over and giving Callie and Drew a hug. “Thank God you came over,” Iola whispered fiercely. “These guys are giving me the third degree! I need your help!”
“Leave it to us, girlfriend,” Callie said.
“Hey, girls!” Callie waved. “Drew brought me over in her new ride.”
“New ride?” One of the girls asked.
“See the candy-red one parked right by the door?”
They all craned their necks and looked.
“Wow! Nice car!”
“Cool, huh?” Drew dimpled.
“Where’s your little blue one?”
“I’ve sold her, actually, to help pay for the red one.”
“Awww. That’s too bad. Maybe Janine should have talked with you before she bought her new one. She could have taken Tiger off your hands.”
“You have a new car, Janine? Cool! Which one is it?”
One of the girls pointed to a new BMW Mini. It was colored in shiny pastel pink with a white top.
“Well,” Drew said, trying to find a way not to laugh. “She’s cute.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Janine said.
“Decided on a name yet?”
“Name?”
“It’s a thing. People give their cars names, you know. And they use feminine names and pronouns.”
“What did you call your blue one?”
“I called her ‘Tiger,’ ‘coz she’s an Opel Twin-Top Tigre.”
“Oh! How appropriate. How about your new red one?”
“I’m gonna be calling her ‘Arcee,’ like the female robot in The Transformers, ‘coz she’s a Peugeot RCZ Sports Coupe.”
“Arcee!” the girls squealed and giggled.
“Anyway, why don’t you join us?” Janine said, and Drew claimed two empty seats from the other table. Drew and Callie sat to the left of Iola, and Callie picked up a menu and ordered chili fries and diet Cokes for the two of them.
“So, Drew said innocently. “Where are Polly and the Kates?”
“I guess they’re busy and couldn’t make it,” Janine said with equal-sounding innocence. Of course, the cheerleaders knew they weren’t there because Janine didn’t invite them.
“Oh! Congrats, by the way, for making the team,” she said to Drew.
“No big,” Drew giggled, “not when you have two excellent coaches like Callie and Iola.” Drew high-fived her two best friends.
“I was surprised that you had your tryouts so early.”
“Not my idea, actually. It was Coach Stoeger who scheduled it. I auditioned along with the JayVees.”
“So, how’s the new team? I heard you guys had a meeting a few days ago?”
“Oh, it wasn’t a meeting, really. Just a get-to-know-you kind of thing.”
“So everyone’s okay?”
“Totally! The JayVees are great girls. Although we might lose one of them. You know Sabrina?”
“The redhead?” (Her feigned ignorance was so obvious.)
“Yeah. I think she’s not going to be joining the team anymore. I’m not really too clear why.”
“Uhuh...”
“I think she has some kind of beef with another girl, and that’s the reason she might not be joining. She wasn’t too clear, like I said.”
“Sure...” Janine said. Since Drew was playing dumb, she had decided to play dumb as well.
“Well, that brings the squad down to thirteen cheerleaders,” one of the others said. “Lucky thirteen!”
Drew laughed. “Yeah. Cross your fingers!”
“Will you guys be trying for the NCA finals again?” Janine asked.
“Depends on the coach. I want to. I think we have a good team this year. But I heard she’s having some trouble scaring up sponsors. So I don’t know.”
“I don’t know about that, Drew,” Janine said. “It’s real tough to get to the finals. My team only made it up to the semis.”
“I think we can make it if given a chance,” she replied.
“It takes a lot of practice, time, dedication. Your girls might not cut it.”
Drew looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “You may be right,” Drew said diplomatically.
“And more importantly, it takes a lot of imagination and talent.”
Drew’s eyebrows came up. “Ummm, okay,” she said diplomatically.
Janine smiled insincerely. “Well, I’m sure everything will turn out okay.”
“I’m sure it will. So!” Drew said, and attempted to change the topic. “Are you girls ready for college?” The others were relieved by Drew’s question and jumped at the chance to change the topic.
The others started talking about planning for college and looking for a place to live near their new school. “You guys are all going to the same college?” Drew asked, and everyone started talking about their majors.
It was actually a fun lunch as they got to talking about their future plans and hopes, although Janine wasn’t joining in too much.
Almost all of them complained that the campus they were going to wasn’t their first choice but they all agreed to the university they selected because that was the one that accepted Janine, and Janine wanted them to be together.
They said they had pooled all of their money and were going to get one of two big apartments that were available for rent. They picked the smaller, more expensive one because of its proximity to the tennis courts and a gourmet coffee shop, because Janine loves tennis and specialty coffees.
Their classes didn’t all begin at the same day, but they agreed to move in at the same time as Janine because she insisted.
Drew and Callie talked about wanting to get to the NCA finals, and the more “seasoned” girls talked about their experience in the finals. The little talk turned to how to strategize for it and the kinds of things the judges were looking for, with Callie and Iola chiming in with their own points of view.
Over everything, Janine silently looked at Drew with a grim and faintly angry stare. Drew shrugged, as if to say, “What!? I didn’t do anything.”
“Well!” Janine said suddenly. “I guess I’ll leave you girls then. I have important things to take care of.”
She stood up, left some cash for her share of the lunch, waved at everyone and stepped out of the restaurant. They watched her walk out of the parking lot and went to her pink Mini. She drove out of the compound, honking her horn at a few bystanders in her way.
“Well,” Drew said. “What was that about?”
“Well...”
“Question,” Drew said abruptly, “are your college class reservations and everything done already?”
“Mine are,” one of the girls said, “but...”
“Here’s a piece of advice – better get all of your ducks in a row. You don’t want to mysteriously lose your class slots for no reason.”
“But... why?”
“Does Drew need to paint a picture?” Callie said.
“Here’s another piece of advice,” Drew said. “Maybe someone can call up that other apartment you guys mentioned and see if it’s still available. If it is, maybe someone should make a reservation for that place.”
“But we already have a reservation...”
“It’s up to you, but it’ll be bad if you guys suddenly find yourselves without a place to live.”
“We’re probably gonna have to put up the first month’s rent to reserve the other place. We don’t have....”
“I’ll take care of that,” one of the others said.
“But we already have a place lined up!”
“It doesn’t hurt to have a backup,” Drew said.
“But why?”
“Don’t be thick, Angela,” one of the others said. “What Drew’s saying...”
“Whoa!” Drew said. “I’m not saying anything!”
“Okay, okay. I meant that what Drew was... implying was that Janine might make it difficult for us...”
“Janine wouldn’t do that!” Angela exclaimed.
“Angela, she already did it to Polly and the Kates! And... to these girls.”
“And, besides,” one of the others said, “it’s just a good idea to make sure our school stuff is arranged, and to have a backup apartment. I’m gonna call my college later.”
“Yeah, me, too,” another one said.
“Drew,” the one called Angela said, “Why all this hostility? What has Janine done to you?”
“Me? Nothing. And what hostility? All I said was to have a backup apartment and to check out your college paperwork.”
“But...”
“But what, Angela? Is it because you know something? You know what? Yes, I feel a little hostile. We’ve heard stuff from Sabrina, Polly and the Kates. And whatever Janine or you guys did, it practically guarantees that the new squad won’t be able to go to the NCA finals. What’s more is that Janine knows that.
“What I can’t figure is that why she did whatever she did knowing that five of your team mates are still here. She did it to Polly, the Kates, and Callie and Iola here. I’m sad that these girls aren’t too close to you guys that you’d reconsider helping Janine do... whatever.”
“That’s uncalled for!”
Drew raised a hand. “You’re right. I apologize. I really do. It’s just that Polly and the Kates just realized that Janine doesn’t care about them, that she continued with her plans to kill off the team’s sponsors even though they were still with the team. Yes, we know about the sponsorship. And I guess Janine knows how the girls feel, that’s why they weren’t included in this lunch thing.
“I just bet you think of Janine as your friend, right? Polly and the Kates thought of her as a friend, too. Think about that, Angela.”
Angela looked at Drew defiantly. “You don’t know her, Drew.”
“You’re probably right, Angela. Anyway, feel free to tell her whatever you guys want to. But she’s a smart girl. I’m sure she can put the pieces of what we talked about together without your help. But I think you better check your apartment reservation and your class schedules.”
- - - - -
As Drew and the girls were debating the situation with Janine, Frank Hardy had been talking to his older brother Joe about his discussion with Drew.
Obviously, Joe was one of the few that was also privy to “The Plan,” and Frank was asking for his help.
It was mostly through Joe’s connections that they were able to do all that they were able to do so far. For example, it was through him that they were able to enlist Doctor Joe and Nurse Sally in their various clandestine schemes.
In any case, Frank told Joe about Drew’s idea about having a safe house for them, and even a “safe car.” And Frank agreed. Drew was even able to arrange for the house and a car, and it was up to them to make them safe.
“I think that’s a good idea, actually,” Joe said. “But this is a lot of effort. Your other informants have not been as difficult to manage.”
Frank sighed. “Yeah, I know…”
“I hope that all this work will pay off eventually.”
“Well, it already has. The material Carson and Drew have provided so far have been instrumental in putting some of the missing pieces in several cases. Like that supposed ‘accident’ in that Tate plant. Several murder cases have been initiatied, and the Justice Department will be able to get the class action suit on that faulty dam construction closed soon, and get some money for the affected families.”
“Do Carson and Drew know that…”
“Of course not. If they did, it would probably change their actions and their behavior. No, we need them to be this way. Slow and steady, Joe. That way, we can be on track to the BIG cheese.”
“Yup, yup.”
“So, can we make this happen for them?”
“Gimme what you got.”
Frank gave Joe the details of the car that Drew gave him, as well as details of the rebuilt house that Drew told him about.
All the while, Joe nodded along.
“That Drew is one smart cookie,” Joe commented.
“Yep. I know. And I want to keep her and her old man safe. We need them.”
“What I’m a bit weirded out is this whole boy-girl thing…”
“Give her a break, Joe. Could they help it if Dave Fayne’s undercover identities was for a father-daughter disguise?”
“I know, but couldn’t you have given them something else? I’m sure, between the two of us, we could have made up a couple of more appropriate identities from them.”
“I guess. But, you know, the covers that David concocted were perfect – I doubt if anyone can break through them. I can’t top those. David was a genius. His niece is a genius, too, apparently.”
“Nephew, you mean.”
Frank shook his head. “Joe, I’ve stopped trying to keep that kind of thing straight anymore. I’m taking my cue from her dad and from Sally. For me, Drew is, for all intents and purposes, a girl. But if she should want to become a boy again, I’m fine with that, too. And I’ll help her with that, as well.”
Joe nodded. “Okay. So, what else does your ‘girl’ want us to do?”
And Frank gave him some more of the details that Drew said she needed. He also pulled out the bearer bond she gave in order to fund it.
Joe nodded. He knew this will be expensive and was actually wondering where the money will be coming from.
“Your kid really has everything covered.”
“Like I said.”
“Yeah, yeah. So when does your ‘genius’ need all this?”
“I suppose after she gets back from her vacation. She’ll be in Hawaii for three weeks.”
“Hmmm. That’s barely be enough time. We better get cracking, then, brother-mine. You take care of the car registration and the cover identity for Drew, and I’ll start with cashing this in and hiring some folks to start setting up the safe house.”
“Okay.”
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Drew Nance Book 2: "The Hidden Staircase" by Bobbie J. Cabot Chapter Ten: |
The following day, Drew’s phone didn’t stop buzzing. Word got out that she was selling her car, so a lot of people called wanting to buy Tiger, but Drew texted back that she already had a buyer lined up. Still, that didn’t stop people from texting their bids. The highest she got was fifty thousand, which was extremely over-the-top. Drew was half-tempted to sell Tiger to that potential buyer, but in the end, she didn’t take even that one.
Still, the texts continued to pour in. By lunchtime, she decided to turn off her phone's ringer for the rest of the day. She had to wonder how many people knew her number.
Aside from these offers to buy her car, some of the cheerleaders texted her, too (so she still ended up checking her phone regularly). Angela texted that it seems their apartment reservation was indeed canceled, but she didn’t bother to change it and just quietly called the other number and reserved the other apartment. Angela was, however, able to get their deposit for the first apartment transferred back to her account, which she then transferred to another account as their deposit to the new apartment.
The others texted that they were able to fix their class schedules but kept them all quiet, too, as Drew suggested. Some were too late to “uncancel” some of their classes but were able to find substitute classes. Everything was fine again. Drew told them she wasn’t worried about Janine finding out because she would undoubtedly be keeping her distance for a while.
Later that night, a couple of the other cheerleaders called and belatedly found that their class slots were canceled as well, but because they reconfirmed, they were able to get back in their classes' registers. They asked who had their names removed from the roll and they found that the requests were under their names. Apparently, Janine (who else) faked their names and signatures.
Drew didn't know what to say after that, but she did tell all of them that they should all play dumb with Janine, otherwise, she might do something else. And they should start watching their backs, too.
The two couldn't say how grateful they were, and said they would, and would tell the other cheerleaders the same thing.
To cement things and postpone any further shenanigans by Janine, Drew conference-called Callie, Iola and Sabrina, and asked to meet with them in the morning to talk strategy. She'd be by their houses at around 10AM and pick them up. Sabrina asked if the others should be there, too, and Drew giggled, saying they won't all fit in her car.
Eventualy, Iola made a suggestion and they all agreed to meet at Red Robin at the Mall. Callie and Sabrina promised to tell the others and everyone should be there at around 10:30.
In the morning, after Drew's usual morning routine, Drew picked out her outfit - always a very complex thing... At the end of her decision-making (which was longer than normal that morning - she wanted to make a good impression with her new posse), she decided on a pair of faded denim-blue low-waist leggings, high-heeled black suede ankle boots, a tight, stretchy, black v-neck bodysuit as a top (she put on a G-string gaff underneath, of course) and topped it off with a red leather moto jacket with snaps, three zip pockets and one snap pocket in front, an adjustable buckle waist belt, zips at the sleeves and silver hardware.
She looked at herself in the mirror and was satisfied with her appearance but… She swiped at her hair. Her hair still looked okay but it was decidedly looking shaggy. This wouldn’t do during her vacation in Hawaii. So she got her phone and dialed Benzaiten.
“This is Benzaiten Personal Salon. Ohayogozaimasu, my name is Ellen. How can I help you today?”
“Hi, Ellen, this is Drew Nance. I was hoping if I could have an appointment for tomorrow?”
“Hi, Drew!” Ellen exclaimed. “I mean, ‘Pixie,’” she giggled.
Drew sighed. “Is my member name permanent?”
“’Fraid so,” Ellen smiled. “Now, let’s see. Julian has a vacant Eleven AM slot tomorrow. Is that okay?”
“Eleven tomorrow is great.”
“I’m going to put you down for ten tomorrow, just in case - you know how it is here... Hey, listen, I'm gonna have to hang up. We can chat some more later. I’m super-busy at the moment.” She cleared her throat and whispered consiratorially. “I have a bunch of Hollywood-wannabe tweens and their mothers, all demanding makeovers.”
“Poor you.”
“You have no idea. Hey, we heard about that race you had. Julian’s very interested about it. He even saw some of the pictures the kids have been sharing around.”
“Pictures! There are pictures!?”
Ellen giggled. You and your friends look pretty sexy in your racing outfits.”
Drew groaned. “Oh, no…”
“Anyway, Julian has a proposition for you and your friends.”
That piqued Drew’s curiosity. “Proposition?”
“Let’s leave it for tomorrow, okay?”
“But…"
“I’m really very busy at the moment, Drew. Let’s leave it for tomorrow, okay? Bye!” Ellen abruptly hung up.
Drew frowned, feeling a bit miffed, but she shrugged it off and punched in an entry in her Calendar app.
She ran a comb through her hair, picked a tiny, white calfskin backpack and loaded it with her cards and essentials and went to the garage.
In a few minutes, Drew pulled up in front of Callie's house. She beeped Arcee's horn, and Callie came flying out moments later. She was wearing a little saucy lace skirt, a loose denim shirt knotted at the waist, and she waved to Drew.
Drew opened the passenger door and Callie jumped in and gave her a quick hello kiss.
Soon, they were at Iola's and after the hello hugs, Iola started geeking over Arcee. Drew went over her new car's special features but what really caught her friend's attention were the doors.
As for Drew, she took notice of Iola's outfit.
She was wearing a cute, short sundress with a loose, man-style, long-sleeved checked shirt over it, and tan Oxford shoes. Over the shirt, she was also wearing an olive, military-style jacket, and she rolled the jacket and shirt sleeves together. And she also wore a straw-colored fedora.
“Love the bohemian-esque style, girl!” Drew exclaimed. “A big change from your usual, but a good change!”
Iola looked down modestly. “Well, it wasn't me, really,” she looked down shyly. “Callie picked it out, and she insisted I wear it...”
Drew gave her a big hug and lifted her off her feet.
“Well, I think you look faaabulous, dahling! Oh, wait!” Drew reached into her car, got her itty-bitty pack and pulled out her little atomizer. She spritzed the air in front of Iola and pulled her through the cloud of eau de parfum. “There. The final touch.”
“Nice! Thanks, Drew.” She gave her a peck.
“Can I get a bit of that?” Callie asked.
“Sure!” Drew spritzed the air again, reached out and pulled Callie over. But she miscalculated.
“Ooof!” Drew exclaimed as Callie bumped into her. It wasn't painful or anything - Drew was just surprised.
They all laughed at that. Callie giggled and gave Drew a big kiss on the cheek, and giggled some more at Drew's blush.
Eventually, they all got in and Iola commented how roomier the back seats were compared to Tiger's. Still, it wasn't all that roomy - the RCZ only had 2+2 seating.
“Last stop and then we'll go to Red Robin,” Drew said.
“We're picking up Sabrina then?” Callie asked. Drew detected a little undertow of some emotion in her voice. Impatience? Irritation? But she ignored it for the moment.
“Yep. Her house is a few minutes away so we'll be there in a bit.”
As promised, they were soon at Sabrina's and they found her standing in front of her house's front door. She was wearing a short, sleeveless Ombre dress in cream that faded into magenta at the short skirt's hem. Knotted over her waist was a narrow, brown belt, and she had on a thin jean jacket with the sleeves rolled up to just below her elbows. She was bare-legged and wore white Converse sneakers.
Drew and Callie had to admit that the girl was showing great style instead of the schlock style most girls at their school had. But inside, the voice in Callie's mind was more catty than admiring.
As expected, Sabrina's expression, as they pulled up in Drew's new shiny red RCZ, was more like “wow,” but when the scissor doors went up and Drew and Callie stepped out, Sabrina's jaw dropped.
“Like it?” Drew giggled.
“Ohmigod, it's so cute!” She said. “I didn't see the high tech doors before.” She bussed both of the girls.
She slid into the back, gave Iola a hello hug and exclaimed, “Let's go!”
The drive was fairly fast, and they were soon at the mall.
The shiny red car attracted a lot of attention as they drove into the already-filling-up lot, but they drove around the lot a bit.
“What're you doing, Drew?” Sabrina said.
Iola laughed. “Oh, it's something Drew does often. Originally, Callie and I thought Drew was trawling for guys or maybe showing off, but she's just looking for a security camera. She parks where a security camera has an obvious clear shot of her car. Just in case. She does this a lot. Her reserved slot in the school parking lot is near a camera, too. Ooh! There's one, Drew!” Iola pointed. Drew turned appropriately. She didn't hurry because there were a lot of empty spots there.
“There are reserved parking spaces in school?” Sabrina asked.
“Yeah,” Callie answered. “You're a Freshman so you might not know about it.”
Callie and Iola explained it: Originally, there were twenty school parking spaces for visitors, but they were never used - there were very, very few visitors that needed parking. So it was offered to staff, but none of the staff wanted to use the spaces for fear of the students trashing their cars.
The teachers were really paranoid about it. It was 2013, and there were riots in some high schools. And movies like Coach Carter and Lean On Me were making the rounds at the time. So, instead of letting the space go to waste, the school board decided to rent it out to the students. Sure, they could have put up more classrooms in the space or something, but there was no budget for that.
Anyway, as expected, the kids who had cars fought for the parking spaces, and there were those that got reservations but would sell them to kids who wanted them badly enough to pay scalper prices. The school didn't want that so they made some rules: parking spaces were non-transferrable; only one car was allowed to park in a parking spot; the car must be registered to the student (which, naturally, restricted parking mostly to the juniors and seniors); the space could only be reserved for the student for an entire term - no more and no less; and the payment had to be made personally by a student's parent or guardian, in advance.
As to security, the rules were: only the student who owned the car can enter the lot; he or she cannot loiter in the lot longer than 10 minutes; and cars can't be left overnight. Lots of CCTV cameras were put up to insure compliance, and Drew made sure her parking spot was in obvious full view of one of them.
“Seems a little to complicated to me,” Sabrina said, “and a little unfair. Is this even allowable?”
“Well, the Department of Education and the School Board tried to take back the parking,” Iola explained, “but the upperclassmen made such a stink that they didn't bother to anymore.”
“Well,” Drew interjected, “my pop said the school board tried to do it one last time.What they did was to make the parking fees real high so no one would want to park there. They made it the same rates as commercial parking fees in Manhattan, to, like more than five hundred dollars a month. And the fees had to be paid in advance. Which translates to about twenty-five hundred per term. The idea was it would be so expensive, the parents wouldn't shell out for it. But it turns out there were just enough to fill up the parking spaces. Some actually made loans just to be able to pay for the parking, and soon the school had a pretty good revenue stream
“So, you have a parking slot?”
“My pop said that the only way he'll let me take my car to school is if I had a guaranteed safe parking spot for it. In fact, he already has my old spot reserved for this coming year.
“How does a kid get a reservation, anyway?”
“It's first-come first-serve.”
“So, I guess, Drew got to reserve first, then?”
“Well, my pop took a morning off as soon as they started taking reservations.”
“He took a morning off!” Sabrina exclaimed, "just so he can get you a parking space? Wow..."
Drew shrugged.
“Your dad is something else, Drew,” Sabrina said.
Drew giggled. “Nahhh...”
She pulled up to a parking spot. “'Kay. We're here,” Drew said.
Everyone got out and Drew put up Arcee's top before she got out. She waved to the camera and followed her friends into the mall.
Drew had her arms linked with Callie and Iola, and Sabrina led the way. It was fairly early so there weren't too many people around yet, but the four clearly made an impression, especially with the kids that were around. Most mistook them for “off-island kids,” and, from their classier style, maybe mistook them for well-to-do kids from Manhattan slumming or something. They were too pretty and classy to be locals. But, instead of being snooty, Sabrina saw the three were very approachable, which attracted a lot of guys.
A situation like this would have scared Sabrina to death - she never got used to guys, especially guys trying to come on to her. It's partly how she first twigged to her being gay, actually. And, though that was just a small thing compared to the totality of who she was, it was one of the reasons she acquired her bitchy reputation when it came to guys.
She looked at Drew and envied her easygoing demeanor, whether with girls or guys. Drew was able to turn away the boys who were too persistent without being jumpy about it or biting their heads off. Callie and Iola had a touch of that savvy vibe, which they probably got from Drew as well.
In school, Drew was rapidly becoming a legend, if she wasn't already. Most, especially those not from her year, only knew her from her sartorial style, her stylish little subcompact, and, more recently, from her now-legendary race with Phil Cohen, even though that race was just a few weeks ago. But Sabrina instinctively knew she was more than just a fashion plate anymore.
Sabrina wouldn't know anything about it but, if someone asked Principal Weatherby, she would have said that, in the short time since Drew transferred to the school, academic performance had started improving. Weatherby knew that it was largely because of Drew's influence, because the largest improvement was in her class, and then, in a more diffused way, among the Juniors. And, although there was only one finals to objectively base this on, Weatherby and the other teachers knew it was because of Drew's example, and were quite happy with the new scores. And they felt the halo effect was starting to carry over to the other years, too. Weatherby was even more happy with the improved attendance and reduced number of incident - her Vice Principal told her that Drew had been instrumental in diffusing several potential messes, as well.
As for Sabrina, she already had a big crush on Drew, but she prayed she wasn't as creepy as Screech was and ruin her chances, assuming she even had a chance at all. Everyone said Drew wasn't into girls, but the little indicators Sabrina saw told her she might actually have a chance. But she wasn't completely sure. In any case, hope springs eternal, she thought.
When they reached Red Robin, they found they were the first to arrive. Drew went to the Maître d' or manager and asked if some of the tables could be put together. Drew said they might be around twenty-two, and they'd like to sit together. The head waitress and the manager looked at each other, and offered Drew the use of one of their two function rooms instead, at no cost. Drew was surprised, but the manager said the room was not in use or reserved at the moment, so it was fine.
Anyway, The four of them were ushered into the room and they picked a table where they could see the main doors through the sliding glass partition, and ordered drinks. As usual, the three ordered diet cokes but when Drew ordered an “orange cream soda,” the others followed suit and changed their orders to similar drinks. Drew also ordered chips and salsa, and chili fries so they'd have something to munch on while they waited.
The girls started to trickle in, and eventually, everyone was there. Public transportation to the mall was available, after all.
They made for a very boisterous group, so it was good that the restaurant had given them the room, isolating them from the rest of the restaurant. All of Sabrina's ex-Jayvees were there plus Polly and the two Kates, so that meant the team was complete. Most of them just ordered from the restaurant's selection of appetizers and entrees, but Iola ordered a large Chili Chili Cheeseburger.
“Iola!” Polly exclaimed. “Whatthehell!”
“What!” Iola said around a mouthful of burger. “I like their burgers here. Why do you think I suggested Red Robin in the first place?”
The others giggled.
Everyone was curious why they were meeting, but that didn't stop them from making a good time of it, and enjoyed the lunch.
But...
Thirty minutes later, the rest of the old cheerleaders (minus Janine, of course) showed up.
In the ensuing awkwardness, Drew explained that she had invited these girls, too.
The ex-varsity girls explained what what Drew thoughed would happen did, and between Drew and Angela, they were able to tell everyone the latest schemes Janine had been indulging in, and from the faces of the girls, they couldn't believe it.
“Wow,” Tori said. “Janine really knows how to carry a grudge.”
“That girl is evil, Drew,” Paige said. “Evil.”
“You're exaggerating a bit, Paige,” Drew said.
“I don't know, Drew,” Marti said. She turned to Angela and the others. “I know she's supposed to be your friend, but - maybe it's just me - I can't imagine doing something like that to my girls. Can you?”
They remained quiet.
“I can never do that to them,” she repeated, “otherwise, I'd have to break every mirror I have and won't be able to look anyone in the eye ever again.”
Drew cleared her throat. “Well... it's none of our business, really, Marti.” She turned to Angela. “It's between you guys and her. But...” She stopped and gathered her thoughts.
“My worries,” Drew said, “have to do with the current team, and, maybe, how to stop Janine from doing anything further. Despite my being a newbie, these crazy kids,” she pointed at the new team, “against my protests, have made me their new captain...”
The girls cheered at that, and Angela and the old team gave her congratulatory hugs.
“Thanks, everyone,” Drew blushed, and everyone giggled at that. “But going back to what I was saying...”
Drew said she now had a responsibility to the team. So, to protect her team, she had a plan. Essentially, it was for everyone to play dumb, and not let Janine know that they knew. That way, Janine would therefore believe her scheme was successful. But they didn't need to make any kind of special effort - just play dumb about three particular things - one, that they didn't know about Janine taking away the cheerleaders' sponsors (this little bit of sabotage shocked the seniors - yes, they heard about it before, but this time, it was confirmed.); two - that the seniors didn't know about Janine cancelling their apartment reservation, and; three - that they didn't know about Janine messing with their class reservations.
“I think we can do that,” Savannah said, “stay quiet about the sponsorship, I mean, but...”
“Yeah,” Angela said. “How can we hide the fact that we know that our reservations were cancelled. We'd eventually show our hand when we don't show up at the apartment, and then eventually reveal that our classes are still okay. Heck, Janine even shares some of our classes!”
They thought about it.
“Well,” Iola said “how about this - tell Janine that you're delaying moving into the apartment until just before the start of classes. That way, it would be plausible that you didn't know about the loss of the apartment until the last moment, and were just lucky to get the other one.”
“Yeah,” Callie agreed. “And when Janine asks, you guys just say that some snafu with your reservation happened, and you guys had to get another another one at the last moment.”
“But we wouldn't want to live with her after that,” Angela said. “We'd want our own apartment. She can find her own!”
“Well, how about you tell her, when class starts, you lost the apartment, and you're still negotiating for the other apartment. That'll force her hand. Either she tells you guys she was able to find an alternative place for all of you, or say she's in the same boat as you, or say that she was able to get one for herself or something, but not a big enough place for everyone. I think she'll say she found one for herself. In any case, you guys will have a chance to get the new place.”
“And what about the classes?”
“You can tell them that your colleges called to confirm your class schedules earlier, to check things, and you guys corrected some erroneous cancellations in their records.”
“Then she'd know that...”
“You don't volunteer the information and only let her know until the first day of classes. That way, she'll assume her scheme was successful until classes start.”
“I guess... What do you think, girls?” They agreed.
“What about after?” Angela asked.
“Well,” Drew said, “when everything's settled, just act like nothing was wrong and everything was normal.”
“What about us, Drew?” Sabrina asked.
“Same thing - we tell whoever asks that the Coach is trying to fix things, and we leak it to the school's grapevine that you've offered to leave the team, and that it's up to the Coach now.”
Sabrina nodded.
"I can't believe Janine thought she could get away with this," Angela said.
"Well, she almost did, if it weren't for Drew," Sabrina said. "And maybe she was counting on nne of you suspecting her, and just chalk it up to some technical or administrative fuck-up."
"Yeah," Angela said, "you're right, Sabrina... Oooh! I so want to get back at her!"
“Guys,” Drew said, “we will not hit back. All we want is her not doing anything else. We're not going to attack at her, unless we can be sure there'll be no repercussions.”
No one responded.
“Well?”
Eventually, everyone agreed.
“But,” Angela said, “if you think of something, Drew...”
“You'll be the first to know, Angela,“ Drew grinned.
To break the mood, Callie suggested that they pick desserts, but there were only six to choose from. Drew said she'll treat, and got three of each, while everyone got smoothies or shakes. Drew chatted up Angela and the new arrivals, and, in her own inimitable way, eased the tension. In a while, the lunch started to feel more like a party.
Drew talked about their impending trip to Hawaii, and that their flight was twelve hours long, and even though their flight would leave Friday morning, when they arrive, it would just be around four PM local time.
Everyone was excited for the three, and asked them to bring back souvenirs and pictures. There was a long talk about what they could do there. Callie talked about their plans and the things they want to do. Since Savannah was from Hawaii, she had lots of suggestions. Iola wasn't too worried, though, since their seventeen days was more than enough time to do everything.
After a while, though, Iola's cell phone beeped, and she checked it out.
“Oh, no!” She said. “It's my boyfriend! I told him to pick me up in a couple of hours. He's early!”
Drew gave her a hug. “Go ahead, hon. Don't keep your sweetie waiting.”
Iola smiled at her. “Thanks, Drew,” she said. She gave her a hug, as well as Callie and everyone near her.
“'Kay, guys. see you all later.” She left Callie her share of lunch and she traipsed out of the room.
Pretty soon, everyone started taking their leave, most of them on dates, and eventually, only Marti, Alice, Sabrina, Callie and Drew were left.
Drew pocketed over three hundred dollars in tens and twenties, and paid for their lunch with her card instead. They gathered their stuff and leisurely walked out of the restaurant. They walked Marti and Alice to the bus stop and then walked back to Arcee. Drew invited them for a ride to Manhattan and back (Drew said she was trying to get used to Arcee), and the two gamely said yes.
Driving through bumper-to-bumper New York traffic was never fun, so as soon as they hit immovable New York weekday traffic, Drew changed her mind and decided to detour to the Tate Center. She parked in a reserved spot there and they just walked up and down Park Avenue, window-shopping for a couple of hours, in places that Drew had only read about or seen on TV before. This was so far from the River Heights that she knew. To be fair, though, Callie and Sabrina weren't all that better, as it was their first time, too. But, in their outfits, and the confidence that Drew inspired in them, the three fit like a glove among the urbanites of Manhattan and freely rubbed elbows with everyone there. Therefore, no one took undue notice, except for the kind of attention three cute girls would usually get.
They looked through clothes mostly, but Drew insisted on going through FAO Schwarz, too, and Sabrina and Callie agreed. All of the prices were so high, though, so they ended up not buying anything. Still, it was fun just walking and chatting, and looking at things and trying out clothes. At a subconscious level, Callie and Sabrina knew that they were competing for Drew's attention but Drew didn't give special attention to one over the other, and because Drew didn't stand for catty or bratty behavior, the two were forced to play nice. And with Drew's bubbly and engaging aura, the two were forced to interact, and in a while they were actually being nice to each other.
Drew sighed in relief at that. It was a small victory but Drew planned to nurture the budding friendship. She knew that she was the cause of the friction, but it hadn't reached the point of actual competition yet, so she wanted to make full use of this little “window” and nurture a friendship between the two. But given how the two were making suggestions to each other in terms of the outfits they were trying on, she thought there was an even chance of their little trio of soon becoming a quartet.
Eventually, the three got tired and had a break in a place called Bubble Tea and Crepes in the Flatiron District.
“Oooh, my feet,” Callie moaned while they sucked tapioca balls and milk tea through extra-large straws, and shared assorted macarons.
“I'm sorry, honey,” Drew said. Maybe we should go home now?”
“Nahhh, I'm okay if you still want to window-shop.”
Drew looked at Sabrina and noted her pooped expression.
“I think I can go for a nap,” Drew said. she almost giggled at the expressions of relief on their faces.
They went their slow way back to Tate Center. Drew texted her dad beforehand and he insisted that they pass by his office.
Callie and Sabrina were appropriately impressed as they were escorted upstairs by a couple of big security people in suits, and were doubly impressed by her dad's quietly magnificent (in an older kind of way) secretary.
For her part, Alice gave Drew a very warm welcoming hug, and critically looked Callie and Sabrina up and down. However, when Drew introduced them as her close friends, Alice's demeanor warmed up a lot, but she still exuded a protective kind of aura. She seemed to be saying that she's still reserving her opinion.
But she politely ushered them into Carson's office.
“Hello, girls!” Carson said and gave Drew a kiss and a hug.
“Hi, Mr. Nance,” Sabrina said. “Sorry to disturb you at your place of work...” Carson waved that away.
“Not a problem, Sabrina. Mr. Tate likes to have young people come by from time to time. And he's taken a shine to Drew. I'm sure I'd hear from him if he found out I didn't allow you to come up.”
“Actually, Pop,” Drew said, “we just passed by to say hello. We're really kind of tired.”
“Oh?”
“We've been window-shopping on Fifth Avenue. You know, just looking.”
Carson gave her a look with a raised eyebrow.
“Really!" she said. "You can ask the girls!”
“Okay, okay!” he laughed.
“Also… can you come home early today? Maybe we can go out for pizza for dinner.”
Carson raised an eyebrow at that. “You’ll probably want vegetable and cheese again.”
“A girl has to watch what she eats, you know.”
“Sure. I’ll try and be home by six or so.”
Carson asked Alice to bring them to the scenic elevator, and the girls oohed and ahhed as they rode down to the lobby, and from there, they got Arcee and they went back to Staten Island.
Callie and Sabrina didn't want the day to be over yet, so they decided to hang out at Sabrina's for a while. There, Callie got to meet Sabrina's mother and little four-year old twin brothers.
Sabrina’s brothers were very taken by Sabrina’s two new friends, especially seeing Drew again, and they would constantly peek from behind the doorway as the three chatted.
Drew was glad that they could spend some time, and Callie started thawing towards Sabrina. She had started to call Sabrina “Bri,” just like her mom and brothers did, and in friendly retaliation, Sabrina started calling her “Cal” – something only Callie’s friends did. This, among other things, showed that the two were well on the way to becoming good friends, even though Drew knew the awkwardness that she caused between the two would never completely disappear.
It was just as well that Drew got Arcee since she was fairly sure Sabrina will soon become a regular fixture with them, and four people would hardly have fit in Tiger.
Eventually, Drew noticed the time, and took their leave, otherwise, she’ll be late to meet her dad for "pizza."
Sabrina pouted but walked them out.
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Drew Nance Book 2: "The Hidden Staircase" by Bobbie J. Cabot Chapter Eleven: |
They gave Sabrina and her brothers pecks on the cheeks, and Drew drove Callie home. On the way, Drew tried to probe gently, and Callie said she liked Sabrina. Drew sighed in relief, and said that she liked her, too.
When they got to her house, Callie gave her a quick peck, ran to the door, waved bye-bye, and Drew drove away.
As Drew neared her house, she saw Carson’s company car pulling up in front. She tooted Arcee’s horn and waved.
Carson looked a little confused by the car and before he got furious, Drew jumped out and gave her father a hug.
“Now, before you get mad,” Drew said, “let me explain!”
Carson waved to his driver. “Go on ahead, Barkley,” he said. “I’m okay for the day. My daughter and I are going for pizza. Go on home, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I can bring you to the restaurant, sir,” the uniformed chauffeur said.
“No need. She’s gonna drive us. I guess she’s going to show off her new car. At least I think it's her car.”
He nodded. “Very good, Mr. Nance. Good night, then.” He nodded to Drew. “Good night, miss.” And he drove away.
“Okay, Drew,” he said, with arms crossed. “Start talking.”
“Can we at least go for pizza first?” Drew wagged her eyebrows expressively.
“Oh…” Prying eyes and ears… He picked up his briefcase. “Okay. Just let me change quickly and drop my briefcase off.”
Drew nodded and went back into Arcee.
After a few minutes, Carson came back out wearing one of his new “casual” outfits and carrying something in his hand. It was one of the portable radio signal detectors.
Carson climbed in (he had opened the door in the conventional manner) and handed the detector to Drew.
Drew gave the inside a fast sweep and, aside from the stereo, there were no radio sources inside the car.
She sighed. “I think it’s safe to talk now.”
“Okay,” Carson replied. “Then start talking. Tell me about this car first.”
Drew pulled back into the street and, as she drove, told him about her idea of finding another car so they could ride around anonymously when they needed to. The cash that she got from Phil Cohen’s Escalade paid for her new Peugeot.
“Nice sporty little car. But of all the cars, why a Peugeot? And how much did it cost? And I hardly think this would make you look anonymous.”
“The car itself was only a couple of thousand. That’s because it had a stoved-in roof. But Otto, my car guy, was able to fabricate a replacement roof, and modify it just like he did with Tiger.”
“But why a Peugeot? Peugeot doesn’t have that good a reputation when it comes to sports cars.”
“Peugeot still has a good reputation when it comes to rally cars. And the RCZ is their first sports coupe in ten years, and it’s gotten a lot of good feedback. It even won a couple of awards.”
“So your car guy just replaced the roof?”
Drew giggled. “Of course not!” And she went over the changes.
“So it’s like your old car?”
“Better!”
Carson grinned. “So when do I get to drive it?”
“Whenever you want,” Drew dimpled.
She then explained that she had Frank “anonymize” her old one. It would be their new car for “secret missions.” Drew giggled at that. She explained that it was at Otto’s for a repaint, and it’ll be done in about a week. Drew said she’ll pick it up when they come back from Hawaii.
Also, she explained that she found a nice little house by the water, also in St. George, and she’s going to stow the car there. There, they can stow all their “secret stuff” and do all their talking, planning and scheming.
She said that she had given Joe one of the stock certificates and asked him to convert the little house into a “safe house” exclusively for their use, and would make sure that it’s not connected to anyone, and not under any observation.
“How would that even be possible?”
“Joe would make sure that the street in back and the areas surrounding it will be free of any security CCTVs or monitors.”
“There are CCTVs on Staten Island?”
"There are a few – mostly at intersections or near banks, commercial areas and train, bus & ferry stations. You know, the usual. But not like in New York City.”
“Well…” Carson said, “seems you have everything well in hand. But! Next time, no doing anything like this without talking to me beforehand.”
“Okay, Pops,” Drew said contritely.
In the silence, Carson rubbed his hands together. “So!” he exclaimed. “How bout some pizza?”
Drew laughed. “You're serious about the pizza? I thought it was just a code signal. Well, okay, then. But after this one stop.”
“Where are we now, anyway?”
“We’re coming near the ferry station.”
“What’re we doing here?”
“I was thinking of passing by the new house.”
“I guess we can, and then we can go for pizza.”
“Hey, Pop, there it is.” She pointed at the house.
Carson looked out the window. It was a tidy little two-story house in the corner, with a nice façade that made it look like a Manhattan brownstone. Some of the houses around it looked like brownstones, too, but others looked like more utilitarian concrete houses.
In any case, Carson thought that it looked like a nice, new residential neighborhood. He wouldn’t mind having a place here.
“I can’t slow down, Pop,” Drew said. “They might notice.”
“That’s okay.”
Carson looked around the street. “You know, Drew, this actually looks like a nice, clean neigborhood. Plus, it’s right near the water. What would you think of moving here?”
“You’re serious?”
“Well, I have no problem with our current place. I was just thinking that this was a nice neighborhood, too.”
“Well, if we move here, the, ummm, ‘safe house’ might not be too safe – that the bad guys may discover it. You know?”
“I guess you’re right.”
“But if you really want to move, we can. Let’s ask Frank’s opinion about it.”
“Good idea.”
“So, I was thinking, maybe we can go to this place called ‘Campania’ for pizza. The kids at school say it makes the best italian pizza on the island. It used to be the Nove Italian Bistro, and it’s in Etingville in Richmond Avenue.”
“That’s a bit far, don’t you think?”
“Trust me, Pop, it’s going to be worth it.”
But in less than twenty minutes, they were already there. Drew couldn’t park in front of the place but was able to park near the florist’s less than a hundred meters away.
“Watch this, Pop,” Drew said, and flicked two switches.
Drew’s RCZ’s doors unlocked and swung up.
“Hey, cool! Lambo doors!”
“Like it, huh?”
Definitely. Any more tricks like that?”
“Nothing else, really, except for the removable roof, like I told you.”
“I’d like to see that.”
“Well, maybe not now.”
“Later then.”
They stepped out and, Drew pressed a switch on her door fob and the doors slowly swung down and locked.
“Let’s go.”
Drew put her arm through the crook of Carson’s arm and they casually walked to the restaurant.
As usual, they got a lot of attention from the largely-working class clientele. Drew smiled politely as Carson led her to the table the waitress pointed out. In a bit, the people turned away and proceeded to enjoy their dinner again. Despite their good-looking and well-to-do aura, it was just a father and daughter having an Italian dinner.
They ordered the sixteen-inch pie with several extra toppings. And while their pie was still in the oven, Carson ordered a Corona Light while Drew had her usual Diet Coke, and they shared some spicy chicken wings while they waited.
It was like one of their Sundays, and the two enjoyed their dinner. It was pretty good because the place used a wood-fired oven. They took their time and ended up going home at around ten or so. When Carson looked, he was surprised that they spent more than three hours just chatting. When they were paying for their meal, their waitress said they also sold frozen pies. So long as they ate it within a week, it would preserve the flavor.
Carson looked at Drew, and she nodded.
“Can we get two frozen pies, please? Can we pick the toppings?”
“Sorry, sir. It’s pre-made. But you have a choice of two types. We have the Take-Out Veggie Pie – it has extra cheese, sweet peppers, zucchini and white mushrooms. And there’s the Take-Out Meat Pie, which has extra cheese, olives, pepperoni, sausage and white mushrooms.”
“We’ll take one of each, then. Wait – make that one veggie and two of the meat ones.” He handed her his card.
“No problem. I’ll be back with your pies.”
“Two meat pies, Pop?” Drew asked.
“I’m bringing one of them to the office, and have it for lunch tomorrow.”
“Ahhh.”
Going back, Drew handed Carson the keys, and Carson had a blast driving Drew’s new car back home.
- - - - -
After her dad had gone to bed, Drew got the spare camera pens she still had. She then went downstairs, and grabbed one of the radio signal detectors and the nonlinear junction detector. She then went to the garage and ran both devices over her new car, both inside and out, and underneath and in the wheel wells, trunk, boot, engine, and everywhere else she could think of. As predicted, the result was negative. She then tried to find a way to hide a couple of the cameras somewhere inside the car.
Drew noticed the screws that held the leather top onto the dash. She compared it to the camera pen’s barrel and the screw’s head was larger. She stepped out and rifled through her dad’s messy toolbox, She found a Philips screwdriver and went back in. she then picked the screw nearest the top and center of the dash, and, with a lot of effort, was able to unscrew it. She then slid the camera pen into the cavity. It was a bit loose but it handily slid into the hole. She fixed that by wrapping a couple of layers of duct tape around the pen. With that, it fit more snugly.
With it in, the dash looked pretty normal. Nothing amiss or unusual, except that, when she pressed down on top of the "screw," it clicked the bottom of the false pen, like one would on a normal pen, and activated the motion-detection pin camera.
She let it run for a bit and then clicked it again. She then retrieved the little micro-SD card, replaced it with another, and then put it back in. For good measure she clicked it again. She’ll have to check the card and see if the camera gave a good coverage of the inside of the entire cabin.
That covers her car. But…
She then came to a sudden realization. They’ve been religiously checking and keeping their entire house under survaillance – literally everything in the house, the outside, the yard, the roof even, and the garage. But…
They had not checked the inside her dad’s BMW.
He’d driven the car over to the Tate Center several times, and parked it inside their basement parking, so it was possible some kind of surveillance device (or devices) could have been planted in it. But then again, his dad has not used it since he was assigned a company car, except once or twice.
She thought hard and tried to recall… Nope. He just used it a couple of times since he got his limo, but those trips were totally innocuous.
And had she or her dad done anything unusual in the garage recently? It was conceivable that any surveillance device in the car could have recorded them while inside the garage.
So she turned off the audible alrams on the detectors and ran both of them over and through the BMW as thoroughly as she did her car. And as she did, she discovered one – there was a device inside the glove compartment.
The one inside the glove compartment was probably a tracking device. Maybe a listening device, too. She couldn’t take it out or neutralize them in any way because that might tip the bad guys off, so she left it alone. And, instead took several pictures using her burrner cellphone.
“Dammit!” she thought.
In her paranoia, Drew decided to do a thorough check of the entire house and grounds. She even included a thorough check of the drawers, cabinets and closets in all the rooms in the house (she had to tiptoe in her dad’s room in order not to wake him). She even checked the safe – something they never thought to do before.
She didn’t discover any other devices anywhere, but still decided to take out and replace all the micro-SD cards in all the cameras they had, and replace the AAA batteries that they used with fresh ones, with the intention of reviewing the footage in all of them.
She went to their hidden safe, retrieved her old netbook, and went to her dad’s office.
From there, she reviewed each of the SD cards and didn’t see anything unusual.
She did catch on video the delivery people from American Amalgamated delivering her dad’s stuff, and then a couple of days later when they went back to pick up their hanger-racks. But they didn’t do anything suspicious.
In a way, that relieved her, because it indicated that they (whoever they were) weren’t really making a big effort to keep them under surveillance. The only conclusion that felt reasonable was that the Tate & Company people were just making sure that they could track her dad in case he used his car, which might be SOP for all company executives.
But then, that was just an assumption. They couldn’t take anything for granted.
She had also seen some pictures of her friends rushing through the hall in nothing but towels after they’ve had showers, and her friends hanging out in the living room. She even saw some of them snooping around a bit, but nothing really sinister – just the usual checking-the-medicine-cabinet-and-stuff thing. She also saw several of the girls’ boyfriends using their entertainment center, but that’s it. Totally normal.
So, nothing…
Oh, well. That’s sort of good news.
She wrote a note to Carson explaining what she found and her conclusions, and what she thought to do, which was essentially to do nothing. But she will send the pics she took of the device to Lt. Hardy.
She also wrote that she needed to go to Otto’s to check out Tiger for bugs as well, but will be back as soon as possible.
She put her little computer and the detectors away, and went upstairs. She left the note on her dad’s bedside table and went to her room to change into something more appropriate for snooping around.
She came down again, this time wearing a short, tight black miniskirt over black tights, her only pair of black shoes, which was a pair of combat boots, a black, long-sleeve bodysuit and her dark-purple faux leather jacket. She had no black jacket, and her purple one was the closest she had. The final touch was one of the knitted balaclavas they used in their previous escapade, which she put on her head, and rolled up to look like a skullcap.
Oh, well.
She went and grabbed the detectors, put them into a little backpack, jumped into her car and drove to Otto’s.
It was just past midnight and the traffic was very light. Around Staten Island, midnight meant almost empty streets, so she made good time. Still, she didn’t drive fast so as not to attract undue attention.
By taking the direct route, which was via Howard Avenue, and then Staten Island Expressway, and then to West Shore Expressway, she was in Pleasant Plains in less than thirty minutes. She found a parking lot near some place called “Extreme Dance” on Amboy Road, parked, and walked the rest of the way.
Eventually, she found the garage and ducked behind a low, wooden fence that separated it from the empty lot next door. Some of Otto’s guys were still working, so she decided to climb over the fence and sneak in the back way.
She sprinted to a pile of old tires and waited for the right time to rush to the back door and sneak inside.
From there, she looked for Tiger and found her parked near Otto’s paint room. Her paint job had been sanded down preparatory to applying primer, and her rims had been taken off already.
Drew pulled down her Balaclava and ran over. She ran her detectors over her, including in the wheel wells, the boot, the engine compartment, and the underside. Totally negative.
She then slowly opened her driver’s door and climbed inside.
She noticed the stitching of her seats were halfway undone – it looked like they had already started re-upholstering her.
While scootched down, she ran the detectors through Tiger’s cabin. Again, nothing.
Drew felt a little bit irritated – all this trouble for nothing.
“Anyone there?” someone called.
Oh, no! It was one of Otto’s guys.
Hurriedly, Drew stuffed the detectors into her pack. She decided to “fess up” but, when she was about to sit up straight, she realized she had the balaclava on. She hurriedly pulled it off and stuffed it into her pack as well.
“Hey, Morty,” Drew called as she sat up. “It’s just me.”
“Drew? Is that you?”
“Yep!”
Morty switched the lights on and came over.
“What the hell are you doing here? And at night, too.”
“Sorry, Morty. I guess I got to missing my car, and I just wanted to check on her.”
“But it’s late – why didn’t you come visit during regular hours?”
“Ummm, no reason. Guess the spirit moved me or something…”
“Girls…” Morty mumbled.
And Drew and Morty had a pleasant talk. Clearly, Morty was attracted to her but was keeping his distance – he was forty years old, after all, and had a family. He didn’t want to acquire a reputation as a creepy, dirty old man. To keep things comfortable, he called Lefty (so called because he was the only left-handed guy in the shop) to bring in a couple of sodas, and with him around, he felt better.
Lefty was a tall, rugged, good-looking nineteen-year old apprentice in the shop (in fact the only apprentice in the shop), and had just started working in the shop for the summer to gain some practical work experience.
The three of them talked cars, although Lefty was more interested in Drew than in cars at the moment. Drew found out Lefty was a very nice kid from a middle-class family in Green Ridge, and, from his talk, Lefty was actually more a nerd than anything else, but Drew corrected herself and thought the term motorhead might be more appropriate. But they connected on a mutual love for detailed, intricate things, and that made their chit-chat more comfortable.
Drew liked the guy right away, and thought of her best friend, George, from the days when she was still Andy, a teenage guy. Lefty had the same enthusiasm and energy that George did, except George was more into comics than cars, and she thought Lefty could become a friend, too. But the guy was clearly sexually attracted to her, and she didn’t know how to handle that, at least in the context of a guy-friend. Girl-friends (that is to say, friends that happened to be girls and not “girlfriends” in the romantic context) were easier for Drew to comprehend, understand and manage, but this would be the first boy-friend (friends that were boys) for her, if ever, since she started living as a girl.
It was good that she had the Hawaii trip so the guy couldn’t chase her, at least for a while, and snuck the trip into their little talk.
She could see the disappointment in Lefty’s eyes, but he played it casual, and Drew played along.
Drew ended up saying goodbye at around two in the morning, and by that time, their little group had grown to seven, with the guys all vying for Drew’s attention. It was good Morty was around to keep things civil.
Anyway, Drew left the garage at around two, and waved goodbye to Morty and his guys. The guys had wondered how she got to the garage, and assumed she took a cab or an Uber or something, but she said she brought her new Peugeot, and had parked it in a parking lot a block away.
As she started to walk back to her car, Morty hit Lefty on the shoulder.
“What’re you doing, kid?” he whispered to Lefty. “Go on and walk her to her car!”
So Lefty sheepishly came over and accompanied Drew to her car.
When they got close to Drew’s car, Lefty whistled.
“So this is the famous Red Peugeot,” Lefty said.
“What do you mean ‘famous?’” Drew asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Lefty said. “It’s just that Morty and Otto talked about the rebuild they did for your RCZ so much that I have wanted to see her ever since yesterday.”
He came over and ran his eyes over the door frame. “Can you swing the doors up?” He asked.
Drew giggled and clicked her car fob, and both doors swung up.
“Cool…”
“Well, I think I should go home, now,” Drew said. “I didn’t really get permission to leave the house this late, and I don’t want my pop to ground me or whatever.”
“Why not come over tomorrow instead?”
Drew shrugged.
“Girls…” Lefty smiled.
He walked her to the driver’s door and helped her in. For some reason, Drew liked that.
“’Kay. See you when I pick up Tiger about three weeks from now.” She pushed a button and the doors swung down again. She then rolled down the window.
Lefty shook his head. “I will never get tired of that.”
“Me neither,” Drew smiled. “Hey, I have a question…”
“Yeah?” Lefty had a hopeful look.
“What’s your real name? You don’t really look like a ‘Lefty,’ you know.”
He smiled a little disappointedly. “It’s Horace.”
“Not exactly an improvement from Lefty.” And after a beat, they both laughed.
“You have a middle name or something?”
“Theodore.”
“Well…” And they bursted out laughing again.
“I think I’ll start calling you Ted. How’s that sound?”
“I guess…”
“Let’s start over, then.” Drew stuck out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Ted. I’m Andrea Jane. People call me Drew.”
Lefty shook her hand.
“Pleased to meet you,” he smiled.
“Good night.”
Lefty stepped back and Drew drove away.
“Ted,” Lefty mused. “I think I like that.”
And he started walking back to the garage.
In the morning, Drew woke up early and put on a bathrobe over her nightie, which was her regular sleeping attire nowadays.
She walked downstairs and walked to her dad’s “office” underneath the stairs. She wrote another lengthy note, and told him about what she found out about her old car, which was that it wasn’t bugged, or if it was, the bugs had been taken out by Otto’s guys.
Anyway, she further wrote that they need to be careful around Carson’s BMW, and not make any efforts to “debug” it, that they need to let Frank know, and to ask for advice.
She tore the sheet from the pad, folded it and put it by Carson’s place setting on the dinner table. She then went back, got the top ten sheets from the pad and tore them up for good measure in case someone tried to trace her handwriting.
She then started preparing breakfast – this time, she prepared some sliced ham, scrambled eggs, toast, coffee and a fruit cup which she made from grapes, sliced up apples and bananas.
When Carson came downstairs, he was already dressed up for work.
“Hey, Honey,” Carson said. “You’re up early.” He gave her a light kiss.
“Good morning, Pop. Ham and eggs, toast and fruit.”
“Sounds great.”
He sat down and Drew served him breakfast. Casually, he picked up her note and read it.
Drew dished up some food for herself and waited while Carson read it through.
Carson, after finishing, wrote on the paper, and handed it to Drew.
“I agree,” Carson had written. “Can you take care of it? I don’t think I’ll be able to do dead drops anymore. It’s good that you started that ‘safe house’ and as soon as it’s ready, we move everything over there. Also, I have some material I think Frank can initiate investigations on.”
Drew looked up and saw a thick packet on the dining table. She went back to reading.
“I can’t leave the originals,” Carson had written. “so you should scan them and make duplicates for us and for Frank. Keep it for now, but you have to leave it in my briefcase later tonight when I come back. I’ll help. Also, we need to find a way to make this bug-detection thing easier. Think up something and I’ll help.”
Drew looked at Carson and nodded. She took the paper, fed it into the trash disposal, and turned it to mush.
They finished breakfast and Drew saw him off to work. Carson did, however, make sure that he didn’t forget his pizza.
Drew went back to the kitchen, got her netbook out and went to her dad’s office. She hooked up her little computer to the printer-scanner, ran off a couple a copies of the documents Carson left using fresh sheets of paper from a just-opened ream (she made sure not to touch the paper). She then encrypted the digital copy of the scans and typed up a note on what she discovered. She printed it out and put it together with the scanned pages. She then put it inside a fresh manila envelope, also untouched, and put it in an old plastic bag. At the last minute, she remembered and also printed the pictures she took of the bug, and included it in the manila envelope.
She then took the netbook upstairs and soaked in the tub while she perused the scanned pages.
It seems that her dad’s discovered several old cases. They were all dismissed under technicalities and allowed several Seattle construction projects of Tate Holdings, a company of the Tate consortium, to proceed. Though the Tate companies themselves couldn’t be prosecuted, their subcontractors weren’t as protected, and with the clues in the documents Carson got, these companies could be pursued for forged permits, bribing government officials, intimidating local business owners to sell out, et cetera, et cetera. And since construction work hasn’t really started yet, there was still a chance to stop them.
Drew smiled. She knew that her dad was a genius, and she was pleased that he was working on their project. She knew yhey’ll stop these guys, eventually.
She then looked through these documents and tried to find links between them and the original papers her Uncle David gave them. But, looking up at the clock on the bathroom wall, she noticed the time.
“Shit! I’m late!” she exclaimed.
She turned off the netbook, put it aside and started draining the tub. She rinsed, shampooed her somewhat-shaggy hair, and finished getting ready.
As usual, it was yet another dilemma picking out her ensemble.
She had to look good since she was going to Benzaiten. It wouldn’t do to disappoint Ellen and, especially, Julian.
She ended up picking out a cute dress with tiny animal-print patterns. It was a chiffon A-line mini with cap sleeves and a round neck. She then put a wool-blend waterfall cardigan over it with elbow patches and ribbed edges. She put on a pair of knitted “Boho Candy Cottages” tights in ginger with red embellishments. For footwear, she selected her new “Faithful Footsteps” brown booties over a pair of oatmeal-color cotton-nylon lace boot socks. Under it all, she wore a white-shirt bra and a maroon thong gaff.
She spritzed herself with 212 White that was recommended by Julian, which was now her regular perfume.
She stowed the envelope in Arcee’s trunk, as well as one of her long, blonde wigs, and with that, she drove on to Benzaiten.
When she arrived, there were several parking spots. She picked the one nearest the front entrance.
She stepped in and waved to Ellen, who was at the counter register, as usual.
“Hey, kid!” Ellen said. She came around and gave Drew a hug.
“Hey, Ellen,” Drew said. “Is he ready for me?”
“Sorry, Honey, you’re early. How about you have a snack while you wait?”
Drew nodded and went to the minibar. During her first visit, she never noticed that the salon had a minibar, but on her second visit, she noticed it. So far as she knew, this was the only salon that had one. But what did she know.
Remembering the contents of the Benzaiten Club Rules inside the little pink booklet, “I’m a Friend of Julian’s,” she knew that she was entitled to free snacks and drinks at the minibar.
“Good morning, Pixie-chan,” a cute Japanese girl at the bar greeted her. She was one of the apprentice hairdressers, and was probably taking a short break while she waited for a client.
“Ohayo, Momo-chan,” Drew said. “Can I have a biscuit and an orange juice?”
“Of course,” she said, and brought out a little plate with a couple of Senbei crackers. From the little fridge behind the bar, she brought out a two-liter plastic jug of Natalie’s Orchid Island Company Gourmet Pasteurized Orange Juice (which Drew knew to be the best brand of supermarket juice).
The girl, Momoko, waved two glasses at her – a tall collins glass tumbler and a little breakfast juice glass. Drew pointed to the tall glass, and Momoko poured the glass four-fifths full of the ice-cold orange juice.
“There you go,” she said, and Drew smiled her thanks. She munched on her favorite rice cracker and sipped juice while she texted, waiting for her turn.
Ellen came over giggling.
“Look at what I got,” she said in singsong while she waved the pictures she had.
Drew groaned, guessing what they were. “Where did you get those, anyway?”
“Oh, we saw these pictures that a couple of girls were giggling over in the waiting area while they waited for their turn. Anyway, I borrowed them and made a quick scan. I suppose they’re from your school and they took pictures of your little race. You were absolutely super-sexy-hot! Who’re the two other girls?”
“They’re my best friends. The taller blonde one is Callie and the shorter brunette is Iola.”
“Well, the three of you look real good together. Like Charlie’s Angels or something.”
Drew smiled. “Yeah, I guess we do.”
“Well, Julian is back from his break. You’re up next. And afterwards, he’d like to take you out for lunch.”
Drew raised her eyebrows. “Is this about that proposition you mentioned?”
“I believe so.”
“Can you come with?”
“I don’t know, Drew. I’ll ask. But it’s just Julian. If you’re worried, you shouldn’t be.”
Drew shrugged.
“If it’ll make you feel more comfortable, of course, I’ll go with you.”
Julian came out, in his signature silk poet shirt and linen pants.
“Darling!” Julian said in greeting, and bussed her cheek.
“Hi, Julian.”
“You are as lovely and stylish as usual, but looking rather shaggy, I fear. No worries, we’ll have that sorted in a bit.”
He snapped his finger and Ellen popped up with a pastel green cape – a color which Julian seems to have associated to her personally.
After two visits, Drew was fairly familiar with the routine, and she passively had her hair shampooed.
“Anything new with you, m’dear?”
“Well, my friends and I are going to Hawaii for about three weeks. A summer vacation care of my pop.”
“Oh! Then we need to do something special then.”
“And I bought a new car.”
“You did? But don’t you already have that nice blue one?”
“Oh, I sold that to get the new one.”
“I’m going to want to see this new car, then. Well…” Julian said as he finished shampooing. “As soon as Ellen has you dry enough, we can start on your trim.”
In a few minutes, Drew was in the barber’s chair.
“Hmmm,” Julian said as he felt through her hair. “Keeping up with the regimen, then?”
“Yes. I’m still using the Lazartigue shampoo and the Fekkai conditioner. And I apply the hair serum twice a week. I didn’t apply any today, though.”
“That’s all right.” He continued to feel through her hair. “Well, your hair’s showing the care you’ve been giving it. And I have to tell you, you have incredibly fast-growing hair. On average, hair grows about half an inch a month. I think your hair grows twice as fast as that. Your hair is now well below your shoulders.
“I think I won’t touch the length and just trim the frayed ends, and maybe in your next appointment, we’ll be able to indulge in different kinds of styles. For now, we’ll think of something stylish but simple to manage, and look good while you’re frolicking among the beach bunnies in Hawaii. Let’s see…”
And from there, he started working his magic, at the end, she came out looking better than she ever did.
“Now,” Julian said, and started explaining. “I’ve put lots of copper highlights in your hair, which should make you stand out in the sun, and while at the beach, though I fear you may bleach them out rather quickly. Now – what I did was to give you lots of voluminous waves. I used a round brush, to get this kind of whooshing volume at your roots, and then I wrapped the ends around a flat iron to create subtle spirals, especially at the ends.
“With the treatment, your perm should last you for a month, and all you need to do is towel-dry it, comb it and allow it to air-dry, and it’ll fall back into place. But being in the sun and at the beach, I think you should come back immediately after your trip for a touch-up. Also, apply the hair serum daily while you’re in Hawaii.”
“Wow,” Drew commented as she looked at the mirror Ellen was holding.
Julian chuckled. “If I can get a penny everytime someone says that…”
As usual, Ellen took several snaps of her and her new ‘do, which would go into Julian’s scrapbook.
“You do great work, Julian. Your work looks better than what those Hollywood types get.”
“Well, speaking about that… I think Ellen mentioned...”
“A proposal?”
“Well, yes. Let’s talk it over lunch, if you’re game.”
“Can Ellen come with us?”
“Of course. Ellen? Can you call us a cab?”
“Oh, no need. We can use my new car. If one of you doesn’t mind squeezing in the back seat.”
Julian had picked a place called Bocelli, a fancy old-town style restaurant that served Italian food. Drew didn’t mind Italian again, but wasn’t all that hungry, so she just stuck with their antipasti menu.
And as they sipped their drinks (Drew picked a virgin Sangria), Julian talked to her about a proposition.
Apparently, despite Benzaiten’s reputation on the island, Julian was barely breaking even. So, he decided to do something about it.
“You know that I want to keep Ben’s a local, neighborhood kind of salon – nothing fancy, just a place where islanders can go to to look better and feel better about themselves. But it’s just not making it, especially because of how we do things.”
Drew nodded. “How can I help?”
“Well, it’s like this: I’m sure you’ve heard about how I sometimes do some work on some celebrities…”
“I’ve heard rumors.”
“Well, I’m thinking of making that a regular kind of thing now, like one or two days a week. So, I’m converting a loft I’ve rented in Manhattan into a salon studio. Yes, that means cutting down my time at Ben’s but that’s the only way I can see to keep it running.
“I’ve been training some apprentices to take up some of the load. Daryl, for one, is shaping up to be a great stylist. Anyway, to start it up, I’ve been thinking of putting up a kind of catalog or brochure which I’ll circulate privately among my celebrity clients and friends.
“I want it low-key and under the radar. I don’t want it on the net, so it’ll be a printed brochure. I want it unofficial, by word-of-mouth only, and strictly a by-appointment type of thing.”
“That won’t get you too many clients, you know.”
“Well, If I can get at least three clients a week, I think we can keep Ben’s the way it is. And that’s all I want.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“But how can I help?”
“Well, I have to have some models for my little brochure, right?”
“Oh, no…”
Ellen gave her a hug. “I think you’ll look fabulous, Drew.”
“I’m not worried about that. It’s just…”
“If you want to be anonymous, we won’t use your name if you prefer.”
“But why me?”
“You’re one of my classiest and best-looking clients. Of course, you.”
“We’ve also been picking some other girls,” Ellen said. “We need a blonde, a brunette, a redhead, an African-American and an Asian-American. We’re not into stereotyping people, but that’s how it is when you’re showcasing hairstyles. So, five racial types for each of four age groups.”
“Oh?”
“So we need five each for kids, for teens, for young adults and for mature women.”
“Who else have you gotten as models?”
“Well, Julian’s picked a bunch of kids of some of our clients, and we have more than enough for adults and older women, But we’re having trouble with the young adult models. There’ll be you if you agree, an African-American girl from Annadale, an up-and-coming redheaded singer named Dannie, so we’re short a brunette and an Asian-American. Once we have those two, the brochure will be complete.”
“The key here is that all of these are clients of mine,” Julian said, “And we’ve been trying to come up with looks for them. Your racecar look is great, and since you’re going to Hawaii, I think we have the beach look covered. As for the others, we’re still making them up.”
“Why not get your celebrity friends to help.”
Julian shook his head. “No, it can’t be celebrities – we want to be low profile.”
Drew became quiet and sipped her sangria.
“Well, what do you say, Drew?” Ellen said.
After a bit, she cleared her throat. “Can I think about it?” she asked.
“Well, of course, you can think about it,” Julian said. “But we’ll need to start work on it in about three weeks or so.”
“Okay. I’ll let you know as soon as I get back from Hawaii.”
“Fair enough. Ellen?”
Ellen pulled out a small Canon PowerShot point-and-shoot camera. “Can we ask a favor, and if you can take some pictures of yourself while you’re in Hawaii? Sort of like selfies?”
Drew took the camera. “Well, okay.”
Julian said that he can’t really pay much as compensation, so he explained that Drew’s next six visits will be completely free. To Drew, that was a big deal simply because of how Julian went about his work.
Eventually, they finished lunch and Drew brought Julian and Ellen back to Benzaiten, and then she went to Central Park. When she got there, she went around and around the perimiter of Central Park for what felt like hours (New York traffic and all) and found a spot near the New York Historical Society on Central Park West. Which was excellent, since there was a security guard-slash-doorman stationed by the Historical Society's entrance, so her car should be safe enough.
She then started walking to the usual dead-drop near the bench with the Sisters of Charity plaque. She searched for the black trashcan – the only black trashcan in Central Park when all the others were painted green. She casually threw her manila envelope in the black trashcan and walked away to look for a food cart.
Eventually, she found one selling some soft pretzels. She bought one and found a convenient sunny bench and sat down. She wasn’t really that hungry but it was good for show, just in case she was under surveillance. She brought out her old Transformer tablet and spent some time just surfing.
In her mind, she was counting how long it would be reasonable to sit around and make her trip to the park look natural, and when she’d been there for over thirty minutes, she decided to leave.
She casually walked around the park for a while and, surprisingly, had a pleasnt time time just walking around, even though the walking around was to see if someone was following her..
Using her phone, she looked for a Best Buy, found one on 62nd, and walked there.
With her current theory, she thought they weren’t really being monitored constantly, so she thought she was fairly safe. But, just in case, she wore her sunglasses, and would pay in cash. If they were really being monitored, the glasses won’t fool them much, but she was betting they weren’t.
When she was in Best Buy, she used her usual charm and asked about hidden cameras and microphones, and a very helpful nerd clued her in.
Apparently, any recorder or camera transmitting wirelessly can easily be detected, whether it was currently transmitting or was off. But Drew already knew that, and had RF detectors and junction detectors at home. But she wanted to find other tools.
For hidden stand-alone microphones, the clerk showed her a microphone detector which can detect microphones based on an acoustic feedback that the detector can pinpoint so long as they were recording.
As for stand-alone cameras, those were more difficult to detect. Apparently, to detect such devices that weren’t recording wirelessly, it had to be located visually. The clerk showed her a device that used multiple flashing LEDs. The LEDs will make the camera’s lens send back a reflection, which one can spot. There were even smartphone apps available on phones that use the smartphone’s camera and flash to do the same thing.
The technique was called “glint detection.” The problem, of course, was that glint detection was far from foolproof but that was the best technology currently available. Their non linear junction detectors did better.
In the end, she just got a couple of PKI 4725 detectors that looked like small point-and-shoot cameras complete with something that looked like a lens. They could do the same things that their stuff at home could do except in a camera-sized package, though with limited range.
She also got a small, cheap old-model smartphone with a nice camera, a couple of extra rolls of the Faraday Cage netting that she bought before, and some odds and ends.
Her next thing was to buy some long black wigs from a place called Bitsz-N-Pieces, and talked to the friendly people there. Instead of obfuscating, she told them up-front that it was for her, and they showed her several brunette styles that were very nice-looking. They talked about their new “lacefront hairline” models that would give an off-the-face natural hairline, and Drew checked them out.
These lacefront ones seemed a little more delicate, and might not last, but they did give a more natural kind of look.
In the end, she got a few of the more standard ones and only two of the lacefront ones, all of them in brunette shades. She picked various styles, making sure to ask the people in the store some help and advice.
She also bought other stuff that they thought were necessary, such as several collapsible wig stands, a better kind of net to put over her regular hair before putting the wigs on, and other stuff necessary for the wigs.
Again, the dilemma of remaining anonymous worried her, but the proprietors never did ask her anything personal. A sign on the wall clued her in – apparently, the store did a big business on “medical” wigs for people underging chemotherapy or other operations necessitating the use of wigs, as well as provide wigs for transgender folks, and said that the store’s staff was very discrete. They may have assumed she was one of these people who was undergoing some medical thing.
The sign also said that Jewish married women could get discounts, but needed to show proof, indicating that they did a lot of business with jewish women.
Like in Best Buy, Drew paid cash for the wigs and other paraphernalia, and was out in less than an hour. The clerk gave her several business cards and they asked for her to share with her friends. Drew said thanks, making some vague comments about how the wigs will help during her upcoming chemo. Hopefully, that would put them off the scent if ever someone tried to trace her.
She went back home and put the wigs and forms in the safe, and the other stuff at the bottom of her dresser’s lowest drawer.
As for the detectors, she took them out of their boxes and put one in the closet downstairs, and one in her room. She burned all of the packaging out back, but made sure to preserve all the important information.
She then got a can of Swamp Pop soda and lounged in the living room to wait for her dad, and loaded some apps on her new, “cheap” burner phone-slash-detector while she waited.
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Drew Nance Book 2: "The Hidden Staircase" by Bobbie J. Cabot Chapter Twelve: |
They had all decided to meet at Drew’s place and had arranged for the airport shuttle service to pick them up there. Drew was all set, her matching magenta-colored Samsonite luggage ready. It comprised of one simply enormous wheeled rectangular suitcase and one carry-on bag.
She was dressed in a simple tanktop (which was actually a sheer, white sleeveless bodysuit) a pair of stretch cutoff shorts over one of her thong gaffs, and Chuck Taylor low-tops. She made sure she had no metal jewelry or earrings aside from her watch and phone, and made do with plastic bangles and thick, plastic ring earrings, and she didn’t wear a belt because her pants didn’t need it. That would simplify getting past the metal detectors and stuff.
She had put her new little detector in with her electronics, hoping the airport people wouldn’t notice it, or if they did, they wouldn’t make a big deal of it and assume it was just a camera.
When Callie and Aunt Arlene arrived, they added their own share to the luggage, and when Iola’s dad brought her over, the pile became enormous.
Carson handed out three Mace spray sticks, one to each of them (Drew already had one). They were actually Mace pepper sprays. On the packaging, it said “Exquisite Rhinestone Purse Pepper Spray (3 colors).”
Drew discarded the packaging, and and asked them to put their sprayers in with the baggies that she asked them to put their perfumes et cetera in. Callie took care of putting away Aunt Arlene’s in hers.
Mr. Morton came and chatted with Aunt Arlene and Carson while the three girls sleepily lounged around on the couch, and, pretty soon, the shuttle arrived.
The driver and his partner came in to help them with the luggage and, after a lengthy goodbye, they were on their forty-minute trip to JFK via the Verrazano Bridge and then the Belt Parkway. They arrived at JFK’s Blue Terminal very quickly, efficiently and without incident.
Drew put on a thin cardigan sweater, and put her e-ticket, IDs and passport in its pockets.
The day before, when she parked her car outside and rushed in to get something for Sabrina, she found a brochure stuck beneath one of Arcee’s wiper blades when she came back. She casually took out the folded piece of paper advertising Meatballs, that new place near her school, but before she threw it into the trash, she felt something inside the folded paper.
Drew got in her car and only opened the brochure after she had closed the door. What was inside was an official looking form from her school district that explained that she was a recognized LGBT person and was currently in transition. There were lots of extra details and was countersigned by some doctor she didn’t know.
Drew smiled. Lieutenant Hardy came through for her again.
However, a small post-it on it said “not back-stopped: use only if necessary!” There was also a brown faux-leather passport billfold. It looked pretty average, but it had the multi-colored, blue-white-and-gold seal of INTERPOL and a blue-and-white-and-gray seal of Homeland Security with a red circle around the eagle, side-by-side with the INTERPOL one.
Another post-it was stuck to it. “Use this,” the post-it said. “Put your passport in it. Vital!”
She didn’t quite understand why it was vital but she trusted Frank.
So that was why she put her passport in the leather INTERPOL-Homeland Security holder along with her school ID even though her passport wasn’t necessary to travel to Hawaii (her passport had a lot of fake stamps in it that showed that Andrea Jane Nance was one well-traveled teenager). Sandwiched in the passport’s pages was her e-ticket.
In her other pocket were her other IDs and the little official letter that she kept in a little plastic envelope-slip.
So she grabbed her magenta carry-on and the big magenta trolley-bag from the curb and waited for the others to get sorted out.
“Omigod, Iola,” Drew said. “How many pieces of luggage do you have, anyway?”
“Six?” Iola cringed, and Drew huffed. She turned to the others. “How about you two?”
“Ummm, eight?” Aunt Arlene said.
“But that’s the both of us!” Callie said.
Drew sighed, and told them to wait. She then went and got two trolleys and went back.
“Okay, now put all of your luggage in these. Make sure the bags are all unlocked, and let’s go.”
In point of fact, it was her first time in JFK, but it always pays to read the signs, and she went to the security line as if she knew her way around. She led the way and the other girls followed, pushing their stuff on their carts.
Drew was prepared for everything, it seems. She unlocked her luggage, took out the electronics from her bag and put it in a basket, along with her watch and cellphone. Since she wasn’t wearing anything metallic, she didn’t need to take off any piece of clothing other than her Chuck Taylors, which she also dumped in the basket. he also took out the plastic ziploc baggie that had all her perfumes, lotions, et cetera (anything liquid, essentially) in the basket as well
The girls watched her closely and followed her lead. The girls found putting their shampoos et cetera in a separate baggie weird, but they trusted Drew.
Drew noticed their earrings.
“Put all your metallic objects like your jewelry and belts in the basket, too,” she said.
When Drew was ready, she dumped her bags and her basket on the conveyor belt and fell in line to the full-body scanners. (Though technically a domestic flight, they still had to go through the scanners.)
When she was waved forward, she handed her passport and e-ticket in lieu of IDs (it was just a domestic flight but she decided to use her passport as her ID, even though she didn't need to) to the security personnel.
She noted that the security officer who took her passport did a double-take. She looked down at what he was staring at, and it was the seal on her passport’s leather cover. He waved it at the other security personnel and the others nodded. Hmmm…
Drew was about to step to the scanner, but security just waved her on. She didn’t contradict them and just went to the end of the conveyor to wait for her stuff, essentially jumping the queue. One of the security people handed her passport back and mumbled apologetically, “sorry for the delay, ma’am.”
Hmmm…
(Eventually, she would find out from Frank that the leather passport wallet with the seals were only issued to government VIPs, and such people were, in most circumstances, not required to go through as rigorous a security check as other travellers. Though not known to the public, this was known to EU, Asean and US port security forces, and Lieutenant Hardy thought it would simplify getting her through checkpoints.)
She waited for her bags and cart to go through, put her electronics back into her big bag, locked it, put her phone in her back pocket, her watch back on her wrist, and slipped her Chuck Taylors back on.
Drew looked back and saw that, unlike her, the girls had to go through the usual thorough procedure, and were still in line. She snickered.
So she sat down in one of the chairs at the end, and surfed the net with her phone while she waited for her friends to go through.
After a while, the girls were standing beside her.
“All set?” she asked.
“Geez,” Callie complained. “Everything I ever heard about airport security was true.”
“Stop complaining, Callie,” Aunt Arlene said. “It’s necessary. Where next, Drew?”
Drew unerringly went to the proper counter – in this case, the Hawaiian Airlines counter. There, they got their boarding passes, passed their check-in luggage through and went to the Business Class lounge for Jet Blue/Hawaiian Air.
There they had some snacks and waited for their flight to be called. The girls were all chatting excitedly, and, although she tried to be cool, Drew was pretty excited, too – it was her first time to fly in an airplane, after all, despite what her faux passport said.
Despite the original schedule they were told, their flight departed JFK at eight AM, Friday morning. The non-stop flight was twelve hours long, but instead of arriving eight PM, since Hawaii time was five hours behind New York time, local time would be 3PM when they arrive. Still, in their heads, it would still be eight PM.
Upon disembarking and getting their baggage, they got on the complimentary shuttle to the Pacific Pearl, the best little hotel in Honolulu. It was, in fact, in Yokohama Bay, near the western-most side of Honolulu, but in a very secluded part of the beach which offered tranquil, turquoise waters, long, clean, sandy beaches and plenty of tropical trees around the hotel to provide the appropriate ambiance. This out-of-the-way hotel provided five-star services and amenities but was barely known outside of a very exclusive clique of privileged upper class travelers, dedicated and knowledgeable tourists and knowledgeable locals. And the ones that owned and ran the hotel preferred it this way. They had no desire to be over-comercialized and become a cookie-cutter Hilton-style hotel. Word-of-mouth gave them more than enough business, and they charged high enough prices that they were more than able to sustain their high quality services and amenities.
The girls were the only ones in the hotel shuttle, and they sipped on complimentary drinks while on the hour-long drive (fruit juices for the girls and a Mimosa for Aunt Arlene). But, after the twelve-hour trip, they couldn’t help it and napped along the way.
Upon arriving, porters came and picked up their baggage. One of the front desk reception people came and politely shook them awake.
“Oh! I’m so sorry,” Aunt Arlene said, as she woke up. “Guess the flight caught up with us.”
“No need to apologize, Ma’am,” the girl responded. “It’s totally understandable. Most of our guests feel extremely tired after their trip, and the five-hour time difference does take it out of you. Let’s get you girls checked in so you can freshen up, and maybe have a short nap?”
“Sounds great,” Drew said. Thank you, Ms., ummm…”
“My name’s Leilani. And you are Mr. Nance’s guests. Welcome to Honolulu.”
“Thank you. Well, lead on, Leilani.”
They followed her and marveled at the mixture of plantation-style and Hawaiian Romanesque architecture of the Pacific Pearl Hotel. The hotel was just ten floors high, but it was very impressive with all the dark basalt blocks that gave it a unique Hawaiian style. The hotel used round arches, barrel vaults, ground vaults and cruciform piers to support the upper floors, with touches of white fixtures and palm tree-type decorations. It gave the hotel a massive yet modern feel with a very tasteful, south pacific kind of aura.
They went inside and approached the front desk. The people behind the counter smiled their welcome.
“Aloha,” the guy behind the counter said. “I am Keanu, no relation, hehehe. Welcome to the Pacific Pearl. I’m your concierge.”
“Hi, Keanu,” Aunt Arlene said. “I believe we have reservations, under the name of Carson Nance?”
“One moment, please, while I check.” He turned to his computer terminal. “May I see some IDs please?”
They handed their IDs and Keanu verified them.
“Yes, your VIP reservations have been confirmed. Ms Shaw, you and your daughter…”
“… Niece…”
“Ah, sorry. Niece. You and your niece, Callie, are booked in Room 10-01, the King Kamehameha Suite, and Ms Drew Nance and Ms Iola Morton are booked in the adjoining Room 10-02, the Queen Lilliuokalani Suite. They’re two of our best suites. They both have king-size beds, jacuzzi-style bathtubs, full bars, complimentary internet and southwest-facing picture windows and balconies facing the ocean. It's only one bed per room, but just let us know and we can have single beds brought up.”
“Wait!” Drew exclaimed. “Ummm… only two rooms?”
“Yes, that’s what…” he looked at his terminal. “That’s what a Ms Alice Moss reserved. Was there a mistake?”
Drew preferred a room of her own for obvious reasons, but when she looked at her friends, she thought better of what she was about to say, and not look like an antisocial jert.
“Ummm. I was just thinking... do you think these rooms will be large enough?” Good thing she was able to think up something reasonable to say.
“Oh, yes, Ms Nance. These are our two best rooms, and our largest suites, as well.”
“Ahhh.”
“What if you check them out and see what you think? We can make arrangements to move you if you so desire.” He rung the little bell on the counter. “Joseph?”
One of the bellboys came over.
“Yes, sir?”
“Please bring these ladies to 10-01 and 10-02.”
Joseph nodded, got their room keycards, the big cart with all their bags, and led the way.
“Follow me, ladies.”
“Oh, Ms Shaw,” Keanu, the concierge said to Aunt Arlene, “Ms Moss specifed that the bars be cleared of all alcoholic drinks. Is that correct?”
“That’s correct. Thank you.”
“Awww…” Callie and Iola moaned.
After a short ride in the elevator, Joseph led them to the appropriate rooms.
“This is room 10-02, the Lilliuokalani Suite,” Joe said.
Drew pointed at her magenta bags and Iola’s six mismatched ones.
Joseph brought them in and Drew and Iola walked in. Their jaws dropped.
It was a huge room with a large TV and sofa set on one side and a big canopy bed on the other end. Against one of the walls was a spacious bar area that had a mini-fridge and a minibar,. And the other wall was taken up by one large panoramic window. It was decorated in little palm plants and very elegant-looking drapery and carpets.
“Wow!” Iola commented.
Drew opened up a door to the verandah, and they stepped out.
“This is so beautiful,” Drew said and marveled at the fresh, warm air and the blue-green waters. The view was enough to take her breath away.
“It sure is,” Iola commented.
From inside, someone knocked and Drew checked. It was Callie knocking on the connecting door.
“Can you believe this, Drew?” Callie asked. “It’s like so ridiculously big, and the view is to die for.”
“Yeah. It’s like something from a storybook.”
Callie gave her a hug. “Thank you for arranging this for us.”
“Thank my pop. This is all his doing.”
“Wow!” Callie peeked into their room. “It’s exactly like ours.”
“Yeah?”
“Come and check ours.”
The two of them went into Callie’s and Aunt Arlene's room.
“Hey, Aunt Arlene,” Drew said. “Great room.”
“Unbelievable, Drew. Totally unbelievable. But, ummm… can you get Iola?”
“I’ll go get her,” Callie said.
“Anything wrong, Aunt Arlene?” Drew asked.
“Oh, nothing at all, Drew. I just need to go over some things.”
The other girls came in.
“Okay, kids,” Aunt Arlene said. “Take a seat.” She gestured to the couch, and the three obliged.
“Okay,” she said, standing in front of them. “now, before our vacation really starts, let’s go over some things.
“Carson, the Mortons and I agreed on certain ground rules, and I’m telling you now, these are not up for debate, okay?
“So here they are: one - You three follow what I say, okay? But I’m not gonna be unreasonable. We can discuss things, and I’ll give whatever you say a fair hearing. But, in the end, what I say goes, understood?”
The three nodded.
“Two – we will try to do things together, but we don’t have to. You guys can do your own thing, but you have to keep to a budget.” Aunt Arlene handed Callie and Iola debit cards. “Callie, you and Iola will be getting your daily allowance via those cards, to do with as you please. Your folks and I agreed to give you a budget for the duration of the vacation, to be offset against your future allowance. The cards will be topped up daily, any any amount you don’t spend just stays on the card, and you can spend it anytime you want. Any cash remaining we will take back.”
“Why doesn’t Drew get a card,” Iola asked.
“Carson said she has a credit card already. Anyway…
“Third rule – except for when we’re doing stuff together, everyone will be back in the hotel rooms by midnight, and no visitors without letting me know. No excuses. Also, you will let me know where you are when you’re doing your own thing. I’m going to be texting you the itinerary your folks and I decided on. You’re free to join or not, but if you don’t you’ll have to tell me the day before, no one goes off on their own alone, and then you check in with me regularly where you are or what you’re doing.
“Fourth rule – any meals in the hotel restaurants and the use of hotel services or facilities will be charged to the room. This doesn’t include the minibar and room service, If you want snacks, we buy from the nearest 7-Eleven and bring them back. We will not touch the minibar stuff. And nothing alcoholic under any circumstances - that’s something the Mortons required. And the tours and packages that we arranged, as well as tickets for parks or museums and all that are all paid for already.
“Fifth – if any of you fail to follow my rules, at my sole discretion I can cancel our vacation at any time and we all go back home.
“So. Are the rules clear?”
“Yes, Aunt Arlene,” the three said together petulantly.
“Don’t be like that. We can still have some fun. Okay, I’m texting you what we’ve cooked up and you guys check it out, and let’s talk about what else you think we should do.”
The “standard” stuff were all included in the list, apparently, like a tour of Pearl Harbor, a visit to the Arizona Memorial, snorkeling, golf, visiting the lava tubes, diving lessons, checking out some of the waterfalls etc. And lots of time at the beach.
Drew chimed in with some other suggestions, like waterfall rapelling, a mountain hike, a sunrise and sunset view, deep sea fishing, snorkeling, diving, parasailing…
Iola chimed in with dancing, clubbing and nice restaurants, and Callie suggested a photo-safari.
Drew volunteered to look up these things on the web and get some telephone numbers to call, and the other two decided to help.
They settled on Drew and Iola’s bed and surfed the web via the free wifi, but Aunt Arlene begged off since she wanted a nap. Later, she said they’ll go down and have dinner and go over whatever they come up with.
The three didn’t last long, however, and also fell asleep.
Several hours later, Aunt Arlene found them snoring in a heap on Drew and Iola’s bed. She giggled, shook them awake and told them to get ready for dinner.
“Dinner, Aunt Arlene?” Drew said.
Aunt Arlene pointed to the wall clock. Apparently it was eight in the evening already – five hours since they arrived in Honolulu, and One AM in their heads – and dinner was currently being served downstairs.
“The Front Desk said it was casual,” Aunt Arlene said, “but they said we should dress smartly.” The three belatedly noted Aunt Arlene wearing heels, a nice skirt and a light cotton top. She looked far younger than she usually did, close enough to be Callie's slightly-older sister, and was very pretty in a vacation-y kind of way.
“So, chop-chop, girls! Freshen up and get ready.”
The three took quick showers and Callie and Iola broke out their new stuff. To emulate Arlene, they picked sleeveless tops and shorts that were so loose they looked like short skirts. They decided to wear low heels as well (they brought these shoes just in case they were going dancing or something).
As for Drew, she took her clothes and her little toiletries bag, went to the bathroom, got out one of her “time-lapse vitamin pills,” and downed it with a sip of water from the faucet.
Drew decided to wear a sundress over a fresh gaff. She made sure the sundresses she bought all ended well above the knee while the others selected theirs based on colors, patterns and material only.
She looked pretty good, and to accessorize a bit, she got one of the fancy scarves she brought for covering her hair, and knotted it around her waist as a belt.
And, instead of low pumps, she wore string sandals instead.
“How do I look, Aunt Arlene?” she said when she came out.
“Your taste is impeccable as always, Drew,” she said.
As they were to step out of the room, Drew fell back a bit.
"Anything wrong, Drew" Aunt Arlene asked.
"My tummy's feeling a bit queasy," she said. "I think I need to, ummm, use the facilities..."
Arlene smiled at Drew's embarassment. "That's okay, dear. Sometimes happens after air travel. Has to do with the air pressure. Although cabins are pressurised, they only keep the pressure at a lower pressure of around 11.3 per square inch. Air pressure at sea level is around 14.7."
"So?"
"So, the pressure difference sometimes affects people."
"Must be it, then."
"Don't worry, dear," she said, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "We'll meet you downstairs. Come, girls!"
Arlene, Callie and Iola went downstairs and followed the other guests to the main dining hall. Lots of hotel people were in evidence, most of them locals. And with them in the expected Hawaiian shirts and shorts for the men and colorful Hawaiian-print halters and grass skirts over bike shorts for the women (not real grass skirts, of course, but they looked authentic from a distance) the Hawaiian vibe was undeniable. Sure, it was unfortunate stereotyping, but the staff wore their "costumes" with good humor and didn't think it was like stereotyping or anything like that - they were working in a hotel, after all.
- - - - -
When the girls left, Drew checked if the door was locked. (Obviously, she was just faking a tummy-ache.) To be sure, she used a couple of straight-back chairs and jammed them under the doorknobs of both of their rooms' doors.
As soon as the doors were secure, she brought out her fake camera, i.e. the PKI 4725 Detector, and proceeded to sweep their rooms, the bathrooms, the balconey areas, and everywhere she could think of. She even sweeped all of their baggage.
And, aside from the intercom beside the doors, their laptops and other gadgets, her ersatz camera detected nothing. That made her feel reasonably confident that there were no cameras, microphones or other electronic bugs.
But, sweeping the rooms regularly with the three girls around may be impossible. She had an idea, and she decided she'll try the idea out later and see if the others would notice.
She then got out a half a dozen of the cameras she brought from home (these were the kinds that looked like pens but were actually motion-triggered surveillance cameras - she bought a whole lot of them from a Best Buy months ago when she and her dad were making sure their house was free from surveillance and bugging).
She set them at inconspicuous locations so she'd get unblocked video shots of both rooms. She then paired them all with one pen. Set up this way, the pen that she had would turn the motion-triggered cameras on or off. She had a sneaking suspicion that she was being a little too paranoid but, hey, better safe than sorry.
Now she could go down and meet the girls for dinner, but... her stomach started to rumble.
"I guess Aunt Irene knew her stuff," she muttered, and went to the bathroom.
- - - - -
A few minutes later, she walked downstairs and had to deal with some out-of-town tourists. Clearly, they were drunk and weren't acting in their best behavior. But Drew, having had experience with Staten Island teenage jerks, was able to fend them off with very little trouble.
"Stupid tourists," she said, and realized what she just said. She had to giggle - after all, she was a tourist, too. She resolved to act more civilized than those mainland jerks.
Looking around, she found Callie and the others at their own table. They had reserved her a seat.
"How's your tummy?" Callie asked.
"Better now, thanks!"
A waiter in a very festive Hawaiian shirt came up. "Would you like a drink, miss?"
Drew looked at everyone's fruity drinks, and ordered a Pina Colada (it was the only fruity drink that came to mind).
"One virgin Pina Colada coming up!" (Apparently he was well briefed.) He then handed her a menu. "You can order from our ala carte menu, miss, or you can try the buffet lines. I suggest the Kalua Pig - they just took it out of the pit an hour ago, and it's genuine suckling pig today. Better hurry, though - it's usually the first thing to run out."
"He's absolutely right, Drew," Iola said as she waved a forkful. "This is absolutely gorgeous!"
Without any further word, Drew got up and went to the longest line. Most of the people in line were men, and they let Drew cut in front of them.
"Just look at that," Callie said. "We waited ten minutes and Drew gets in front in no time..."
"Just eat your food, honey," Aunt Arlene said and sipped her Blue Hawaii (hers was the only drink at their table that had actual alcohol in it).
As for Drew, she came back with a plate laden with Kalua Pig, Laulau Chicken, a small paper cup of the purple Poi, tuna Shoyu Poke, Lomi-lomi salmon as her salad, a small bowl of Chicken long rice, and a small bowl of steaming white rice. Each little helping was a small portion only so that she could try everything.
"Ahhh!" she said as she tucked in her table napkin into her sundress's collar. But since it had a relatively low neckline, it looked ridiculous. The girls giggled. "What!" she said, "I don't want to mess up my new dress!"
"Ahhh!" Callie said. And after a few moments, she giggled. Drew gave her a razzberry and grabbed the napkin from the empty plate beside her and put that on her lap.
A lady came by. Judging from her fancy cocktail-type dress, she must be the hostess.
"Good evening, ladies," the lady said. "I hope you're enjoying our food."
"It's wonderful!" Arlene said.
"Thank you. We try. Anyway, if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to let any of our staff know."
"Wait..." Callie said. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"
The lady shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I can't remember if we've met before..."
Callie snapped her fingers. "I remember now! You're Polly! You like to swim in the pool in Central Park! We see you there all the time! Hi, I'm Callie."
The lady, Polly, grinned and shook Callie's hand.
"Well, it's always good to see a fellow New Yorker," she said.
"This is my Aunt Arlene, and these are my best friends, Drew and Iola."
"Pleased to meet you all," she said, and shook everyone's hand.
Drew thought back and remembered that gorgeous lady who was waiting to use the shower when they went swimming about a month ago in Central Park. Too bad the pool will be closed soon, Drew thought. At around Labor Day, they would be closing it, preparatory to draining it, cleaning it, and then converting it to an ice skating rink.
As she shook Polly's hand, she couldn't help but stare at her, recalling that short time she saw her completely naked and showering.
Iola giggle. "You have to forgive Drew," she said. "I'm afraid Drew has a bit of a crush on you."
Everyone giggled, and Drew looked at Iola in shock. "Iola!" she said, and socked her on the shoulder.
"Oh, don't worry, Drew," Polly said. "She's just teasing. So, what are you girls doing in our beautiful island?"
"Oh, the girls are having a short summer vacation," Arlene said. "I'm afraid I'm the designated chaperone and token adult." Polly and Arlene chuckled.
"Oh, I know how that can be," Polly said. "I have several nieces and nephews myself, and I've been assigned to ride herd on them from time to time."
"So, what're you doing here, Polly," Callie asked.
"My family owns the hotel, and I help out during the summer and the winter months. Otherwise, I'm usually back in New York. I work at the City College."
The three nodded. "Ahhh! So that explains it," Iola thought.
"How about you guys," Polly asked. "How long will you be here?"
"We just arrived this afternoon, actually," Arlene said. "We're going to be here for the next three weeks."
"Ahhh! That's great!" Polly said. "Would you guys like to have a local tour you around?"
"Ah, thank you, but we couldn't presume..."
"Nonsense! It'd be my pleasure. Besides," she leaned down to whisper conspiratorially, "any excuse to get out of working, and play tourist for a change."
The girls laughed in delight.
"I'll talk to my dad, and square things away. And I can meet you all tomorrow at around eight, for breakfast."
"Thank you, Polly. See you tomorrow, then."
They waved and watched as Polly sashayed away.
"She's even more gorgeous than I remembered," Drew said aloud, not realizing she was speaking.
Callie frowned and Iola whapped Drew lightly on the head.
"What!" Drew said.
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Drew Nance Book 2: "The Hidden Staircase" by Bobbie J. Cabot Chapter Thirteen: |
After dinner, there was an "impromptu" party, and the floor started filling up with dancers. In deference to the guests, which were mostly older folks like Aunt Arlene, the hotel band started playing watered down 80s dance songs, and Aunt Arlene was swept away by a well-dressed middle-aged gentleman, and they proceeded to disco their way though Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, Rick Astley, Whitney Houston and Michael Jackson songs.
The three friends found themselves alone, with no one asking them to dance. In truth, most of the boys their age were a little intimidated by them, and the older folks who weren't and decided to ask them were intercepted by hotel staff - they were old hands at managing DOMs. So, instead of hanging around, the three decided to walk around the hotel grounds instead. (In Callie's mind, she felt disappointed because she didn't get an opportunity to ask Drew to dance.)
- - - - -
The hotel gardens were beautiful, and provided a wonderful backdrop to the gentle waves and the moonlit beach.
"So beautiful," Callie said and sighed, keeping her arm around Drew's waist while Drew had her arm around Callie's shoulders and held Iola hand-in-hand.
"Yes, Hawaii really is pretty," agreed Drew, although Callie was looking at her instead of the beach.
Iola giggle knowingly. She steered them towards the beach and they started walking. They paused to take off their shoes.
"Look," Iola said, and pointed to some of the people on the beach. Even this late at night, there were still some guests who insisted on swimming. And some of them weren't wearing anything.
"Those folks must feel cold," Callie giggled.
"Maybe," Drew commented, smiling, "but I doubt they care."
Iola saw something in the sand and let Drew's hand go to pick it up.
"Look what I found!" Iola said, waving something she saw in the sand. It turned out to be a puka shell. She also found two more. She said if they found enough, they could make necklaces, like the kind those puka girls or the VSCO girls like to wear on the Internet. They looked but they couldn't find any more. Drew asked for the three shells, and she put them in her purse.
"It's for a surprise," she said.
They chatted while walking on the beach, stopping often to look at the beach or the surf lapping at the edge of the shore.
After almost half an hour of walking at the boundary of sand and surf, and enjoying the cool-warm Hawaiian breeze and the picturesque sandy beach bathed in bright moonlight and starlight (their eyes had adjusted by then), they noticed that they had walked quite a distance from the hotel's beach area. Callie estimated they were about a mile and a half from the hotel grounds.
"Oh, no," she said, and pointed towards the direction of the hotel. "Look at how far we've gone."
But Drew was looking elsewhere.
"No," she said, looking elsewhere. "Look at that!" She pointed to a large mansion that stood on a small hill or promontory above the beach, about eighty feet above the sand and surf.
From what they could see in the moonlight, it looked like a beautiful two-story mansion in what Drew knew to be in the Mediterranean style, with tile roofs, arches and lots of concrete or stone surfaces. She also knew that the style was called the pueblo style, making it feel like an old Castillan or Spanish house, but the beach setting seemed to suit the house.
As they were looking, a bright glow started to emanate from the bottom of the hill below, exactly at the water line, and directly below the house.
"Ohmigod!" Callie exclaimed. "What is that!"
As as they looked on, they saw the light separate into three distinct lights, and the three lights started to float over the water and glided away from the beach. After maybe twenty or thirty seconds of bobbing over the water, and moving away from land, the three lights suddenly disappeared.
"Ohmigod," Callie said again. "I'm scared, Drew! Let's get back to the hotel!"
Drew, still looking towards the house and the now-gone lights, nodded slowly. "Yeah," she said. "Let's."
And the three walked briskly back to the hotel.
- - - - -
Instead of taking their time this time, they were back at the hotel in ten minutes. The three were puffing a bit, but otherwise they felt relieved they were back among familiar places and things.
They waved at a passing waiter and snagged three tall glasses of what the waiter said was called Four Seasons.
Callie finished hers off in ten seconds flat, and got another one. Iola and Drew looked at her a moment, and then burst out laughing.
"Screw you guys!" Callie said, breathing hard, but she couldn't stay mad. She giggled after a bit.
"That was real scary!" Callie said when she finally caught her breath. "What do you think it was?"
"Ghosts?" Iola asked, and shivered.
"There's no such things as ghosts, Iola," Drew said.
"Then what was it?" Iola challenged.
Drew shrugged. "I don't know, but it's not ghosts. Maybe we can check out that house tomorrow."
"No way am I going back!" Callie said.
Drew made a patting gesture. "Okay, okay. We won't go back."
"Good!"
"So!" Aunt Arlene appeared suddenly. "Where have you girls been?" (In truth, she actually already knew - the app that Drew's father installed on her smartphone allowed her to locate the girls in an instant, provided there was a signal. And she had been pacing the three for a while now.)
"We were just walking along the beach, Aunt Arlene," Callie said.
"Met any interesting boys?" Aunt Arlene teased.
"You know, Aunt Arlene," Callie said, "it's a little weird - no boys tonight. I don't understand it."
Aunt Arlene chuckled. "It's not surprising - look around you, my dear - almost all the people here are my age or older, and the ones nearer your age are decidedly on the, ummm, geekier side of the spectrum."
"Come again, Aunt Arlene?" Iola asked.
"What I'm saying," Aunt Arlene said, "is that the kids are intimidated of you."
"Huh?"
"When we start going around the island and other places, you'll find a larger selection of kids. Around here, the kids are children of the guests, so not exactly, ummm, the adventurous kind. My dear, you are three very pretty girls. Imagine how the boys around here feel."
Iola giggled. "Are you sure, Aunt Arlene?"
"Stop fishing for compliments, Iola. Yes, I'm sure."
"Well, how about you, hmmm?" Drew asked, cheekily. "Where's your dance partner, Aunt Arlene?"
"Well, he was okay. But his wife suddenly showed up."
"Awww..."
So..." Aunt Arlene put her arms through iola's and Drew's, "What else do you want to do tonight?"
- - - - -
As usual, the girls decided to stay up late to chat, except they decided to do it at the balcony with the beautiful moonlit waves and palm fronds swaying in the breeze, sipping non-alcoholic drinks they had brought up from the bar.
Aunt Arlene stayed up with them, too, but she didn't chat much - she and Drew spent much of their time going through the net, and in a few hours, between the two of them, they had made up an updated itinerary that was more to the girls' liking.
At around one, they decided to call it a night - they were still a little tired from the trip after all. Aunt Arlene said good night, and retired to their room while the three stayed in Iola's and Drew's room.
Drew got a change of clothes and went into the bathroom. When she had changed for bed, she also made sure that she was... well camouflaged - she had picked a full-panty gaff and adjusted herself carefully down there. Given that she was going to be sleeping with the girls, she knew she needed to make sure she was well protected. But when she went back to her friends, they were already in bed sleeping.
Drew grinned as she looked at her two best friends innocently sleeping. She set her smartphone to ring about half an hour before sunrise, and put in the headphones so it wouldn't wake up her friends with the alarm. She hung up her clothes in the closet and, so as not to wake them, carefully found some space on the bed beside Callie.
As soon as she settled in, Callie turned and put her arm around her waist. Drew sighed in resignation, and closed her eyes to try and get some sleep. Callie, playing possum, wasn't really asleep. She smiled and snuggled in closer to Drew.
- - - - -
It was about five minutes after sunrise, and Drew was back on the beach. She was tracing their steps from last night, and could see the mansion again on the top of its bluff.
She was wearing the cardigan sweater she wore on the trip out to Hawaii to cover up against the cool morning breeze, given she was already wearing her outfit for the day, which wasn't really designed for an early morning walk - it was sleeveless, backless and kept her legs bare. But with the cardigan, she was feeling feeling warm enough. Her outfit posed some problems, actually - given it was backless, she had to figure out, belatedly, how to put on a bra and not ruin the look of the outfit. But she figured something out by using a bra strap extension.
In the light of the morning Hawaiian sun, the mansion looked very run-down, but it no doubt used to be a splendid-looking house during its time.
Stopping and looking through the binoculars Drew had brought from home, it looked deserted: the driveway in front of it was overgrown with weeds, and there was a big hole on the second floor's roof.
But there were signs of visitors: some of the shrubbery at the edge of the bluff were flattened, and there were food wrappers, paper cups, and empty beer and soda cans in evidence. She wondered who would visit such a derelict house in such a remote, almost inaccessible place: there seemed to be no path or driveway going up from street level to the mansion's driveway, though clearly there used to be - there was a driveway after all.
But Drew was actually more intrigued by Iola's ghost lights from last night, and they seemed to have been coming from the bottom of the promontory. Looking through the binocs, she couldn't make out anything - just lots of weather-worn rocks and the bluff wall itself. She looked at her watch. By her estimate, she had a little under an hour before she needs to be back at the hotel, so she needed to hurry things along.
Jogging on the sand wasn't so bad, and she made good time. Pretty soon, she was at the base of the bluff.
She sighed - nothing to see, really. She did note that the surf didn't clean away the seaweed, as it got stuck among the rocks - rocks that seemed to have been cleared away from the rest of this stretch of beach. But she did note that there was a small portion that was fairly clear of rocks, and therefore no seaweed. She made her way to that spot.
When she got to that spot, she couldn't see anything. She looked around and there was nothing of note, but when she looked to the bluff's wall, there was a wrought-iron gate there. She rushed to the gate and noted that it was rusted and worn away by seawater, salt and spray. Clearly, it wasn't just the usual iron as, despite its obvious age, it was still there. Perhaps it was galvanized steel or or something. It was still standing, and still functional by the looks of it: she shook it and the hinges seemed intact and working. She also noted that there was a brand-new, fresh and un-corroded chain near the gate's lock, with a fresh, brand-new padlock attached to the chain. She saw the word "YALE" printed on it, and in smaller letters on the other side, it said "weatherproof padlock Y220/51."
"Well, if it is a Yale padlock..." she mused aloud.
She knew how to pick locks, including padlocks, and one of the types of padlocks she knew how to pick were Yale padlocks. She patted her pockets and looked though her purse, but she had nothing appropriate she could use to pick the lock with.
Drew peered through the gate's bars and saw steps hewn on, and through, the rock. The steps were going up, presumably to the mansion up top. The light was a little dim so she couldn't make out much else.
"A hidden staircase," Drew whispered. There were even iron handrails bolted to the sides of the rock walls. "A hidden staircase," she repeated, "... made from the rock of the bluff itself."
She looked at the discolored bottom steps - about fifteen of the bottom-most steps - and she concluded the tides probably reached that part of the staircase regularly while the rest of the steps were fairly untouched.
"So... whoever put this padlock here..." she fingered the marine padlock, "were probably the ones who shone the light..."
She looked around and couldn't find anything else unusual. She had nothing else she could do, and knew she had to go back and get something to pick the lock with, see where the stairs went, or, failing that, go to the house topside and check it out.
She looked at her watch again. She had to get back, coz the girls would be waking up and getting ready to meet Polly at eight.
She started jogging back to the hotel.
- - - - -
Cassie woke up, feeling refreshed and relaxed. For a moment, she was a little disoriented, not knowing where she was, but slowly, she recognized where she was. She was alone in bed, but she heard the shower running. Presumably, Iola or Drew was taking a shower already.
She looked at the clock on the wall and noted the time. It was seven o-clock. And they were supposed to meet Polly at eight.
"Oh, no," she cried. "I'm running late!"
As soon as Iola stepped out of the bathroom, Callie zoomed in. "We're running late!" she cried, and Iola giggled.
"Typical Callie," Iola giggled, and continued rubbing her heir.
In any case, they were ready in twenty minutes - a record for Callie. But they were confused - Drew wasn't around. Aunt Arlene wasn't worried, though - based on her little phone app, she knew Drew was in the hotel, presumably having breakfast downstairs. So the they all hurried down, and they found Drew having breakfast with Polly.
"Hello, sleepyheads!" Polly said. "Drew's been here for a while already!" The two bussed the girls.
As usual, Drew was wearing another drop-dead gorgeous outfit (she had doffed the cardigan since the restaurant was well-heated) - this time, she was wearing what looked like a white romper covered by faint yellow flowers. It featured an open back, ruffled detailing on the straps both over the shoulder and going down the sides, two front pockets on where the shorts would be, and she wore a pair of white beach sneakers, which looked like regular tennis sneakers except for the thick soles - not as ridiculously high as platforms but with at least an inch and a half.
Not that the three weren't wearing sexy beach attire themselves, but were pretty conventional - short-sleeved blouses over beach shorts and sandals. Callie, who had been following Drew's fashion lead for a while now, had changed up her outfit a bit - she especially picked out this top, with its long tails, allowing her to knot it near her bellybutton.
Aunt Arlene was looking at Drew disapprovingly.
"Ummm... what's wrong, Aunt Arlene," Drew said worriedly.
"You're not wearing a bra, Drew," Aunt Arlene said sternly. "Your dad won't like that."
"But I am!"
Aunt Arlene shook her head. "I don't think so." She gestured towards her back.
"I really am, Aunt Arlene!" Drew tried to keep it her voice down so that she wouldn't cause a scene.
And then Iola went around Drew and cupped her breasts.
"Eeek!" Drew squeaked. She almost slapped Iola, but was able to stop herself.
"Yep, she's wearing one, Aunt Arlene," Iola giggled. Drew slapped Iola's hands away.
"But... how?" Aunt Arlene gestured to Drew's back again.
Drew leaned forward and whispered in Aunt Arlene's ear. Arlene whispered back and they had a short conversation that way. All the others could make out were the words "bra strap extensions."
"Okay, Drew," Aunt Arlene sighed after their little tête-à-tête. "You get a pass now, but next time, you let me know. Okay?"
Drew nodded. "Okay..."
When they all sat down, Polly gestured to some of the waitresses, and they came over and started dishing out food.
"Well, now that we're all okay," Polly said, "let's have some food. I took the liberty of selecting breakfast this morning." She gestured to the plates in front of them. "These are Hawaiian-style breakfast banh mi, filled with pickled vegetables, pate, tons of cilantro, and one perfectly crispy fried egg. You'll definitely need extra napkins," Polly giggled.
"If you don't care for this, you're welcome to try something else from the buffet. I suggest you try the malasadas - they're chewy, yeast doughnuts, and we've got an assortment of them with different fillings and toppings of all sorts, and they're all covered with cinnamon sugar."
"Mmm!" Aunt Arlene enthused, and dug in (they were all following Polly's lead of using a knife and a fork).
They discussed their plans for the day, and it seemed Polly intended for them to spend the day in Oahu, visiting several interesting sites, which included the USS Arizona Memorial, and checking out the submarine, the USS Bowfin, and the USS Missouri - one of the battleships that survived the Japanese attack in World War 2. In the afternoon, they would ve heading into Chinatown to have a look around the shops, markets and museums, and maybe in the evening, have dinner at The Pig and the Lady, and do a little bit of barhopping - "barhopping lite," Polly said, and winked towards Aunt Arlene.
"Sounds good," Aunt Arlene said, and looked to the girls. "What do you kids think?"
"Sounds okay," Iola sniffed superciliously. "A good and easy start." Callie bopped her on top of the head.
"Owww!" Iola said. "What was that for?"
"What that means, Polly," Drew said, "is that I think that's great."
"Okay then," Polly grinned and rubbed her hands in anticipation. "Let me get things started and get our reservations and things done." She stood up and went to, presumably, the front desk.
In less than half an hour, they were on their way.
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