"Edie stumbled on to some information at Ensecksi Satellites a while back. Apparently the corporation has some technology that combines with microwaves and allows mind control. She learned something about it and went to C.I.S.I.S. They started looking into it, but then decided that B.L.I.S.S. should be brought in. They passed the information to B.L.I.S.S. on Thursday, but our agency didn't get the chance to arrange a meeting before Edie was taken."
"Thursday?" Abel appeared confused. "But you've been her neighbor for months. How--?"
"I've lived in that apartment for several years," Jane interrupted. "Long before Edie ever even moved to Vancouver. It was just dumb luck that we're friends and neighbors."
"But she had that tracking necklace you gave her. Did she mention--?"
"No." Jane cut him off, taking a moment to order her thoughts. Y had said to explain. That gave her some freedom. "Edie didn't mention anything to me about her workplace, or at least not what she suspected was going on there. Why would she? She thought I worked for a toy company."
"Edie doesn't know that you work for this B.L.I.S.S.?"
"No. No one does except Gran and the people I work with. And now you," she admitted quietly. "We're not allowed to release the information as a rule. You're only learning it now out of necessity."
"So, how did Edie end up with your necklace?"
Jane pursed her lips then admitted, "The tracker isn't a necklace."
Abel's eyes narrowed at her embarrassed expression. "No? What is it?"
Jane took a deep breath. "A tampon."
Abel blinked. Once. "Excuse me?"
"I developed these B.L.I.S.S. tampon trackers--a tracker placed in the center of a tampon. It was for women agents, not children. It was to bypass the problem of agents being forced to strip and lose the trackers that are generally put in watches, earrings, or necklaces. We lost a couple of agents when they were forced to do that, and the usual trackers became useless. These trackers were supposed to remove that problem."
"And Edie--?"
"Edie came over just as I was taking Tinkle for a walk. I told her to borrow what she wanted. I didn't realize she needed tampons."
"I see." Abel considered that briefly, then he shook his head. "So it was pure dumb luck that we were able to track her."
"Yes," Jane admitted. "It wasn't until I went to the workroom for the broom and saw the computer that I even thought to look for her that way."
"Well, thank God you did."
"Yes." Jane was silent, wondering how she was to sort out whether Abel should be allowed to stay or leave.
"That was a brilliant idea."
Jane glanced up, uncertain. "What was?"
"The tampon trackers. And you learned this time they work. You should maybe put a longer tracking range on them, though."
"Yes," Jane agreed, oddly pleased at his compliment. "These are just prototypes. I had already decided that more powerful transmitters would be needed for the real thing."
Abel nodded. "So, what do we do now?"
Jane eyed him. "B.L.I.S.S. has arranged to move us into the house next door to where Edie was taken. They're sure that this is the headquarters for the Ensecksi mind-control project. They want us to watch and listen and learn what we can until backup can arrive. Then we'll decide what approach to take."
Abel nodded slowly. "That makes sense. We can't just charge in. We might get Edie killed."
Jane felt relief course through her at his attitude. It was quickly followed by suspicion at his sudden about-face.
Abel apparently spotted her suspicion: He sighed and said, "Look, I'm not saying I wouldn't like to storm the place and drag Edie out, but I thought about it while you were sleeping and realized that could get her killed. Besides, as you pointed out earlier, if they do have mind-control abilities, they're more likely to use them on her than violence. I trust your people to know what they're doing. I just want my sister back alive."
Jane nodded and relaxed. She believed him. "Well, then. I guess we'd best clean up and go get Gran. Do you want the bathroom first?"
"That depends."
"On?"
"Are we going to have to be handcuffed?" After a moment he added, "Not that I mind the idea of showering with you, but..."
Jane flushed and peered down at the cuffs still binding them. She debated the matter for a moment, then finally decided she'd have to trust him sometime. They could hardly move in to the Goodinov house handcuffed together: she might as well test him out now. Reaching into her pocket, she retrieved the key to the cuffs.
"I'm going to go get Gran while you shower," she said as she set the handcuffs aside.
Abel merely nodded and crossed to the washroom.
Jane was at the door when she heard the shower start. She took some pleasure in the sound as she stepped outside.
Jane woke Gran and explained about both Y's call and her talk with Abel as she helped Maggie dress. Then she set Tinkle in her gran's lap and wheeled the pair out of the room.
Abel was out of the bathroom when Jane returned to their room. He was dripping wet, dressed only in a small towel that was draped around his waist, and he was going through one of her bags. Glancing up in surprise he flushed guiltily at the sight of them, but before he could do more than open his mouth all hell broke loose. Mr. Tibbs was sleeping on the end of the bed. Tinkle spied him and went wild. The room erupted in barking and hissing and flying fur as Mr. Tibbs leaped off the bed, streaked across the floor, and climbed Abel in search of safety.
Jane winced as Edie's brother yowled in pain. Releasing the towel he'd been holding in place with one hand while searching her bag with the other, he grabbed instinctively for the cat. He ripped Mr. Tibbs off his chest, then held the terrified creature at arm's length away from the leaping, barking, and yipping Tinkle.
"Oh, my," Gran murmured. "They may make the policemen here in California handsome, but I swear Canada makes the finest accountants."
Abel stared at Jane's gran blankly, obviously confused by her comment until Jane managed to tear her gaze away from his body and gesture. Looking down, seeing that he'd lost his towel and understanding what Gran was ogling, Edie's brother promptly dropped his arms so that the cat hid his nakedness. Tinkle promptly leaped, snapping at the cat, so Abel instinctively raised the poor creature back out of the dog's reach. Again and again he lifted then dropped the cat in a desperate effort to hide himself and yet protect the beast from the barking Tinkle. For Jane it was like watching a rather bizarre peekaboo yo-yo act. Up and down and up and down went the cat, and now you see it, now you don't went Abel's family jewels. Jane was completely enthralled.
"Um, dear? As delightful as this is, perhaps you should grab Tinkle before she decides to snap at something other than the cat," Gran suggested.
"Oh." Jane gave herself a shake and rushed forward to scoop up her gran's dog, then quickly retreated back to Maggie's side with the animal. Abel once more positioned Mr. Tibbs where he was the most effective. Fortunately, he had the cat by scruff of the neck, so there was no danger of Mr. Tibbs swatting or biting.
"I, er, was hoping you might have a razor in one of those bags of yours," he said apologetically. Backing toward the bathroom door he added, "I should have waited for you, but hoped to finish up before you returned."
"Oh." Jane said, believing him. "I'm not sure if I have one or not. I'll look though," she offered. Her gaze slipped from his face to the cat in front of his groin and back. "Do you want me to take Mr. Tibbs?"
"No! No, we'll be fine." He backed into the bathroom and gave a pained smile. Saying "Thanks," he kicked the door closed.
"Do you want me to take Mr. Tibbs?" Gran repeated with amusement.
Jane flushed. "I meant once he was covered up."
"Of course you did, Janie, dear," Maggie said with amusement, then, "There should be a razor in my purse. I'll fetch it for Abel if you bring it to me. Then I suggest we call Y back and tell her Abel is in for now."
Nodding, Jane moved to collect her gran's pu
rse, mentally kicking herself for not having earlier taken the opportunity to check its contents. Too late now, she decided as she handed the bag over. She waited as her grandmother searched out a pink and white women's razor, then she took the razor to the bathroom door and knocked lightly.
A moment passed; then the door opened a crack. Enough for Abel to peer out, but not enough for Tinkle to get in or Mr. Tibbs to get out.
"Gran found a razor." Jane held it up.
"Thank you." Abel took the item. "I'm sorry about looking through your bags."
"That's okay," Jane said with a shrug. "There's nothing personal in them anyway." She noted his curious expression, but didn't respond to it and turned away.
Gran was already talking on the phone when Jane returned to her side. "No, no. That won't do," she was saying. "We simply must stop and shop first. We haven't any clothes with us."
Jane winced at her gran's peremptory tone of voice and worried about how it would effect her own job. With Gran's help she might yet lose it.
"That would work," Gran said suddenly. "But we really should pick up a few things ourselves." Gran listened again, then glanced at Jane. "Ask Abel what size he is, dear. I'm guessing a thirty-two waist and forty inseam, but we want to be sure."
Nodding, Jane moved back to the bathroom door. Knocking once she asked loudly," Abel, what size--Oh!" She smiled uncertainly as the door opened and he appeared, topless but again wearing pants. His face was covered with soapy foam, but Jane noted that absently as her gaze took in his wide, muscular chest.
"My size?"
"Er..." Jane tore her eyes away with some effort. It was a very nice chest. "Yes. Gran wants to know what size you are. I think B.L.I.S.S. is sending clothes for us."
"A thirty-four waist, forty leg and sixteen neck," he announced. "My shoulders are a bit wide though and I like roomy casual tops."
"Wide," Jane echoed, her gaze dropping back to his chest.
"Jane?" Gran called.
"Oh, yes." She passed along the information as Abel reclosed the bathroom door.
Gran relayed the information as well, then spoke for a few more minutes before handing the phone to Jane. "Ira wants to talk to you."
Jane took the phone, a touch relieved to know that it was Ira Manetrue that Gran had been talking to and not Y; but only a touch.
"Hello?" she said into the phone.
"Jane, this is Mr. Manetrue. I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you."
"Oh, well...Thank you, sir."
"We're sending the three of you in as Maggie, Jane, and Abel Goodinov. You and Abel are brother and sister. Maggie is your grandmother."
"All right."
Mr. Manetrue continued without prompting, "We considered making you and Abel husband and wife, but Y pointed out--and I agreed--that doing so might interfere with your investigations. According to our information, Dirk Ensecksi is quite the ladies' man."
"What?" Jane blinked.
"I'm sorry?" Ira asked. "What what?"
"What did you say his name was?"
"Dirk. Dirk Ensecksi."
"Oh." She gave a nervous laugh. "It's just when you said the name fast it sounded like--"
"Dirk Ensecksi," Ira repeated, then gave a bark of laughter. "Dark and sexy. Yes, well, it may fit. Anyway, that's why we decided on the brother-and-sister deal. That way, neither of you will be hampered if you need to get close to either Dirk or Lydia Ensecksi."
"Lydia Ensecksi," Jane echoed. "Well, at least she sounds normal."
"She's a maneater from all accounts. But she may have useful information. Still, Mr. Andretti isn't a pro, so I want you to keep an eye on him."
"Yes, sir," Jane agreed. But at the same time she had the panicky thought that neither was she a professional spy. Why was no one worried about her? Why did they all assume that this cloak-and-dagger nonsense had somehow been poured into her along with her mother's milk? She was a geek! A scientist! And an absentminded scientist at that.
"Good," Ira Manetrue said, completely oblivious of the panic coursing through his protegee's body. "I also want you to keep an eye on your grandmother, Jane. Maggie was the best in the business, but she has been out for a while now."
"Yes, sir." Jane avoided looking at her gran.
"Very good. Do you have any questions?"
Why are you people doing this to me? But she cleared her throat and said, "No, sir."
"All right. You'll do fine, Jane. I know you're probably nervous right now, but you're a natural. I have faith in you."
"Thank you, sir." I think.
"We're working on getting you some backup, but call me if there are any problems or you have any questions."
"All right. Thank you, Mr. Manetrue," Jane said again.
She'd barely hung up the phone when there was a knock at the motel door.
"That's probably our ID," Gran said.
Jane shook her head, not believing that even B.L.I.S.S. could be so quick. But when she opened the door a courier was waiting there. He wore a brown uniform with BQD emblazoned on it.
"Jane Spyrus?" he asked, then held out a clipboard when she nodded.
"BQD?" Jane asked as she took it.
"B.L.I.S.S. Quick Delivery," he said, grinning.
"Quick is right," Jane muttered as she scribbled her name in the appropriate square.
"Actually, I've been here for fifteen minutes, but I had to wait for the call to tell me which envelope to deliver," he explained. Jane shook her head. If it was ID as Gran suggested, then they must have sent out two different packets when she got off the phone earlier: one that included Abel, one that didn't. Her superiors must have flown them in from some branch of B.L.I.S.S. in California to get them here so swiftly. Maybe San Jose. Still, this was extremely fast. Unless the ID had been prepared directly after Gran's first call.
Jane handed back the clipboard and accepted the envelope held out in exchange. Murmuring a thanks, she closed the door on the delivery man.
"What's that?" Abel asked, coming out of the bathroom. Jane lifted the envelope.
"It's our ID," Gran announced as Jane ripped open the resealable package.
Jane upended the envelope over the bed and three card holders fell out. She picked one up, opened it, and found herself staring at a row of cards: driver's license, Social Security card, Visa, American Express; there was even a Sonora Library card. The name on all the cards read Margaret L. Goodinov, and they listed a Sonora address.
"It seems we're American now," Jane said faintly. She handed the card holder to Gran.
The next she picked up was for Abel N. Goodinovo She handed it to Edie's brother, then picked up the last. It was hers.
"All right. Give me your real IDs," Gran ordered, drawing their attention.
"Why?" Abel asked.
"Well, you can't get caught with both, can you? It will raise eyebrows. You'll have to use these only."
Jane and Abel exchanged a glance; then both did as she asked. Gran took their IDs, put them in the resealable envelope with her own, then rolled her chair over to the door. Opening it, she handed the envelope to the courier, who was still patiently waiting.
"Thanks." He offered another grin, then walked away as Gran closed the door. "Close your mouth, Janie dear. This is standard procedure. To be safe."
Jane closed her mouth.
"If you wanted a shower before we go, Jane, you'd best hurry," her gran suggested. "We're supposed to meet the Realtor at the house in--"
"The Realtor?" Jane interrupted with surprise. "I thought B.L.I.S.S. didn't buy the house after all. I thought we were just taking over for a little while."
"Yes, dear. But the first thing they did was move the Goodinovs out. Someone had to hear the story of Mr. Goodinov's sudden turn for the worse, their need to leave right away, and our house-sitting for them," she said, "so that the story could circulate. I would guess this Realtor was chosen because she is the local gossip. Now, get to it if you want a shower. Our meeting is at ten-thirty."
/> Jane glanced at her wristwatch. It was 9:36. She couldn't have slept more than twenty minutes before Y had called the first time, she realized suddenly. No wonder she was still so exhausted and felt slow and stupid. She definitely needed a shower to help shake away some of the sleep. She hurried into the bathroom.
Chapter Nine
"I don't know how you managed all of this so quickly!"
The Realtor, Trixie Leto, sailed gaily ahead of them toward the garage door of the Goodinov house. It was only 10:30 in the morning, but the odor of wine about the woman was staggering. It seemed Trixie liked juice with her breakfast, fermented grape juice and lots of it, judging by the way she was stumbling along in her high heels. She looked to be sixty, but was dressed like a twenty-year-old in a short straw-yellow sundress showing off legs with spiderweb veins. There was also a lot of makeup on her wrinkled face. Her hair was dyed to match her dress--a most unfortunate choice with her nicotine-stained skin and teeth.
She looked like an over-the-hill bimbo, Jane thought, then berated herself for being uncharitable. Some people just aged better than others. But most seemed to do it better and more gracefully than this woman.
"Beatrice Goodinov rousted me out of a dead sleep," the woman said with a laugh. "I nearly fell out of bed when she said she and Arthur were leaving for a clinic in Europe and needed someone to hang on to the keys to this house until you arrived."
Beatrice and Arthur. Jane repeated the names silently, trying to fix them in her memory. It wouldn't be good to forget her "aunt's" and "uncle's" first names. If Mr. Manetrue had mentioned them to Gran, Gran had neglected to pass them on. But then the last hour had been a bit rushed. Jane had hopped in and out of the shower in record time, thrown on her clothes, then stepped out into the motel room to find Abel had already reloaded everything into the van except for Gran, Tinkle, and Mr. Tibbs. Edie's cat had actually been cowering in the bathroom while Jane showered.
Jane had carried the traumatized tabby out to the van and returned him to his cage, while Abel had wheeled Gran and Tinkle out after. The spoiled Yorkie had whined enough that Gran had refused to have her put back in her cage, so the beast had sat on Gran's lap. A short trip to pick up toothbrushes and toothpaste was the only other thing they'd had time for before heading here.
"Of course," Trixie Leto continued, "when she said you were supposed to arrive at ten-thirty, I offered to meet you here rather than have you drive all the way out to my office. I live nearby, you know."