“Elusive”
Issue #7
‘Change of Plan’
Written by Charley Biggs
Edited by Molly Ward
“Smith, so help
me...," Gomez was putting a vest over her clothes. She didn’t finish as he popped out from
behind a tree with his phone to his ear.
Wearing
a vest over his dress shirt, sans tie, Smith pointed to the phone mouthing,
‘Thorney’ as he nodded mostly to himself, then grunted back into the receiver
as apparently Jim was giving him some sort of rundown.
The
office building where the meet was taking place was close, only two blocks
away. Corriola was supposed to be there,
along with one of the DeMeo sons, Christian.
There was a small and quietly busy staging area for one of three different
FBI-led teams that would be converging on the location if and when the signal
was given. It was hot and bright
outside, and Maria wore her sunglasses, a more modern version of the old
aviators Jim often wore, whereas Smith wore sporty wraparounds that were more
in keeping with his athletic appearance.
Mostly
ignored by the FBI field agents and the one special agent present, Gomez and
Smith were left to keep in the loop with Jim, whom was calling Smith on and off
in between updates directly from Rosenthal.
It was a convoluted mess, but Jim wasn’t trying to work it remotely, he
was there in the office with Rosenthal.
Here, he could interact and represent the U.S. Marshals as the two
deputies prepared to join in on the major arrest. Calmly waiting on Smith to get off of the
phone with what she could already tell was a jumpy and irritable Jim, Gomez
ducked into the car they had rented from Lexington and pulled out her travel
case, sliding an Oliva O Series Torpedo in a maduro wrapper from it. Snagging her coffee, she walked to the rear of
the car where she set the paper cup down on the trunk and proceeded to clip the
head of the cigar before putting it to her teeth and swapping her cheap cutter
out for a vintage zippo, a gift from Jim.
Cupping her hands around it as she flicked it open, Gomez lit the
strong, heady cigar, turning it slowly to get a nice even burn, letting the
smoke on her palate shut the rest of the world out for the moment.
Snapping
the lighter shut and cramming it back into her pocket, Gomez left the cigar in
her mouth supported by dark red lips as she stood in a haze of smoke in the
windless parking lot. Toying with her
coffee mug and unbothered by the crowd of agents around them, she took the
moment to enjoy the cigar, its strong flavor and smooth touches mixing with the
complex dark roast she was drinking washing over her.
Calm,
Gomez's thoughts shifted to the task of getting Corriola. The little voice in the back of her head said
something was off. At two in the
afternoon, the meeting shouldn’t have been until later, or should have already
happened. Something in the way the FBI
personnel were sculking and talking with each other left her feeling that this
arrest was a bust.
Maria
cut her eyes toward Smith from behind the dark lenses of her sunglasses, she
could tell that they were done here.
Walking towards her with hands spread, a gesture she’d seen Jim make
quite often, she took the cigar from her mouth and draped her finger over it,
taking her coffee mug in the same hand.
Gomez's now free hand lifted to halt Smith a few yards off as she
exhaled a cloud of smoke. “What
happened? Gimme the short version.”
“Corriola
didn’t show…Christian DeMeo did though."
Smith shook his head and tucked his phone away. "The arrest is a go, but we’re not
involved. Rosenthal can’t get us in on
it if he’s not here….”
“What
do you think?" She asked.
"Me?" Smith took a moment to consider it, “I think
that Corriola got here late last night.
His presence was coincidentally timed.
He probably left this morning for some other location.”
“Not
my idea of a good start with this guy…he didn’t just vanish. He was tipped
off." Gomez hung her head, looking
irritable.
“No
telling what happened.” He shook his
head.
Maria
washed the sour taste in her mouth with a swallow of coffee, then turned to
look at the Agents preparing to make the arrest. One in particular caught her eye as she spoke
to Smith, pointing at him with her cigar.
“Call
Thorney. Tell him we’re heading back to
Lexington. I’m going to talk to the
supervisor here," turning away on the ball of her foot, she left Smith to
get in touch with Jim and made a beeline for the small group standing around a
large van.
One
Agent in particular was on a cellular phone talking calmly to someone on the
other end, trying to assure them he was good to go. Maria knew that position all too well, didn't
envy it. As she drew closer, it was
easier to get a good look at his face...he was gorgeous.
Standing
a little over six feet tall, built similarly to Smith, what she could only
guess was about 190 lbs, lean and solid.
Tanned skin was offset by sandy brown hair that hung to his shoulders,
and as she walked up to him to wait for his conversation to end, Maria was met
a green eyed and toothy smile from the tall square-jawed man.
Drawing
from the cigar and taking it from her mouth with the hand holding her paper
coffee cup, she took her time as she smiled back, “So”, she said with a
mouthful of smoke, “We won’t be involved today…”
Shrugging,
holding the cellular with both hands, the man nodded, “I heard…I’m sorry we can’t
help you, but with no sign…”
“True…any
thoughts?”
“Nothing
right now..." that unspoken but
lingering in the air.
“However?" Gomez tacked on, taking another puff of the
cigar, smoke clouding around her glamorously as she held it and the coffee cup
like a glass of cognac.
"Well,
we'll be questioning people after the arrest." He chuckled, dragging his eyes across her
face. Gauging her. "Maybe I could get copies of transcripts
and bring them to you?" A moment of
hesitation, and he gestured with an open hand, "...maybe over a drink
tonight?"
"I'll
be heading back to Lexington shortly," Maria answered.
"So
will we. We don't have an office
here..." he pointed out, still offering his open hand between them. “I’m Cooper by the way. Harry Cooper…”
Taking
his hand, Gomez flashed him a professional and somehow coy smile,
“Gomez…Supervisory Deputy US Marshal Maria Gomez," then she hung her head
as they let go of each other’s hands, chortling, “it's a mouthful, I know.”
“Yeah!”,
Cooper replied, laughing with her. “I’m
a Special Agent…not supervisory though.
I just happen to be one of the people most involved, hence how
I'm-" he gestured, sweeping his hand around at the other agents,
“-supervising."
“Well,
Special Agent Cooper," reaching
into her pants pocket, having moved her card wallet there when she put the body
armor on, she fished it out and pulled out a business card. “Here's my number, cell included. Just text me a time and a place tonight. I’m not going to turn down an offer to help,
we need all we can get with this guy.”
Taking
the card, Cooper toyed with it. “I don’t
blame you. I’ve been after him before,
he’s tough to catch," and as Gomez started to turn to go back to the car
with Smith, he held out a hand, “by the way-”
“Yes?" Gomez asked, pausing, free hand on her hip,
an arched brow visible above the dark lens of her sunglasses as she looked at
him over her left shoulder.
Letting
the hand drop, he smiled again, “call me Harry.”
Grinning
broadly, Gomez nodded, “well then, Harry…call
me tonight and let me know where to meet you." She began to walk off, making it a few steps
before turning to look over her shoulder, “oh…and you can call me Maria.”
Holding
up the card to show her he was putting it in his pocket, Harry called after her,
“see you tonight Maria…”
***
In
the busy downtown area of Columbus, not far from the university, a throaty
rumble was heard coming up the street, a restored 1967 Plymouth Fury III rolled
into view as it came to a stop at the entrance to a nice Apartment
building. Shutting the engine down,
parking on the street, Jim Thornton stepped out of the car slowly, wearing a
black pinstripe suit and a blue shirt with a yellow silk tie. Putting his keys in his pocket, he went
around to the entrance, but before he could open the door to the lobby, his
date for the evening arrived.
Jim,
up until now, had been dreading this, but when Shauna came out to join him, he
was actually taken aback. Just standing
there like he’d never before looked upon a woman, he was struck a bit dumb as
he met her smiling gaze. Oh, she still
had a sheen of crazy that scared him shitless, but at present, she was looking
too beautiful for him to ignore or push away.
Standing
there with both hands squeezing her clutch purse to death, and starting to
color bashfully as finally a man she found herself undeniably attracted to was
seeing her, and seemingly seeing her as a person and not an asset for the first
time. Wearing a classy dress of deep
blue that displayed her curves, dark hair worn up, a strand hanging down the
side of her face, and the silver seeming more frosting than the signs of stress
that they were. Shauna took her time as
she picked her way to the car, it had just rained, and she was wearing a pair
of brand new pumps after a quick search revealed she had neither dress nor
heels in her closet that fit or weren’t belonging to a suit for work.
“Shauna,
I've got to hand it to you…you clean up well”, a serious understatement he
reminded himself, because she was stunning.
Jim opened the car door for her, rolling his eyes.
Looking
up from the leather seat she slid into, Shauna made a coy expression, cooing
back in return, “you do too…not so wild in this light.”
Jim
didn’t have an answer other than to close the door on her before walking around
to the driver’s side and getting in. It
was a blessedly short drive to the restaurant, and as the Valet came to take
the old car, Jim put a finger under his nose, “don’t let me catch you burning
rubber in this thing…behave and there’s twenty bucks in it for you.”
Eyes
lighting up, the young man took the keys and had the car rolling off at a
respectable pace. From the curb, with
Shauna hanging on his arm, Jim watched for a long moment before walking her
inside for dinner.
Seating
themselves at a small table in the dim light, Shauna and Jim made their drink
orders and relaxed, Jim taking a coffee and Shauna a glass of Riesling. After making small talk, and getting Shauna
to giggle a little, Jim finally sat back, toying with the rim of the coffee
mug, his other hand under the table playing with his phone, sending a message
to Gomez to see how her little meeting was going.
Looking
up from his lap, Jim’s grin faded and he canted his head slightly to the side,
“so…any news on Corriola?”
Smile
turning to a cautious pursing of blood red lips, Shauna looked down and to her
right before thinking of an answer, “not much." Looking Jim in the eye, she shrugged, “we
aren’t sure if Corriola was called for something else, or whether he was tipped
off. It was a real mess.”
Staring
at Shauna for a long while, processing her body language and words, he sighed,
“a mess…but you nailed down Christian DeMeo.
A good deal, and it makes me wonder what he had to say to Corriola.”
Biting
her lip, holding her hands out on either side of her glass, she shook her head,
“I haven’t received the transcripts or the recordings from the
interrogations. I have no idea what’s
been said at this time….”
“Sure
about that? Because I have a line on
your end that says otherwi-" he swallowed his words, gripping the coffee
mug and the edge of the table before tugging to loosen his tie. Catching his breath, he glared at Shauna who
was innocently sipping her wine.
“Stop
that," he ordered flatly.
“Stop
what?" She asked as she inspected
the smear of her lipstick on the wineglass.
Meanwhile, beneath the table, one of her heels lay on its side, and her
foot was in Jim’s lap.
Starting
to push away from the table, Jim stopped, realizing it would create a
scene. Not to mention how good it
felt…so clenching his jaw, he tried to at least appear calm as the waiter
arrived.
“Good
evening, what can I get for you this evening.
Might I say you make a lovely couple!”
“Thank
you," Shauna said with a pleased smile, meanwhile, Jim forced a smile,
still maddeningly at her lack of mercy.
“I’ll have the chicken alfredo with the penne pasta…”, then she let off
of Jim under the table so he could talk without embarrassing himself.
Inhaling
sharply, Jim grimaced at Shauna and then the waiter, “I’ll, ah, have….let’s see
here," looking at the menu for the first time, he saw something at random
that caught his eye, but he couldn’t pronounce it so he turned the menu so the
waiter could see it, and tapped the item with a finger, "this."
Nodding,
and having the good grace not to
correct Jim on the name of the dish, the man purposefully headed back for the
kitchen to put their order in. Jim was
about to say something to Shauna, but promptly forgot it as that foot pressed
back in to his crotch.
“Why
can’t we just relax and enjoy each other’s company? Does it always have to be about
work?" She asked, her smile
staying, but struggling to be held.
Grinding
his teeth, Jim shook his head, “it’s only ever been about-" catching his
breath as she teased him, he tugged at his collar again, “-will you knock that
off!” He hissed. “I only did this as repayment for the favor
you did me…and the favor tanked.”
She
didn’t stop, but she did lighten her touch, her eyes went to her wineglass,
“Jim…I’m sorry. I did everything I
could. Corriola just wasn’t there…but if
anything pops up…”, then she caught his eye, giving him a moment’s respite,
“I’m here, Jim. I told you I would wait. That won’t change.”
About
to answer, there was a buzz in his pocket, and Jim tugged his phone from his
pocket. There was a message from Gomez: TALK TO ROSENTHAL. INTERROGATIONS TURNED UP TARGET
ITENERARY. BOSS FOUND DEAD.
Stuffing
the phone back into his pocket, Jim grabbed Shauna’s foot, gripping it firmly,
giving her a look of surprise, “anything pops up, huh?” He asked, locking eyes with her. “So…how about Christian DeMeo? He have anything to say? At least that you heard?”
It
took her several seconds, “Jim….”
“Answer
the question, Shauna. I told you I
wasn’t here for personal reasons, and I don’t intend on having a discussion
about us tonight anymore than I did
two nights ago.”
“We
got nothing from him so far as I heard…it-" she shook her head, her eyes
growing wet, "-it could take some doing.”
“I
bet it could," he said coldly, then shoved her foot down out of his chair,
making her wince and shift positions.
“It
takes time, Jim….”
Sending
Gomez a message, Jim ignored her for the moment: ROSENTHAL PLAYED US. GET WHAT
YOU CAN AND MOVE WITHOUT ME.
Laying the phone on the table, Jim held up a hand
without looking, stopping the waiter. “Box that and bring the check…”, he
snapped. Waiting for the man to go ahead
and serve Shauna then depart, then he leaned forward as she picked at her food,
“I hope whatever you got was worth it…because you just pissed away whatever
trust I had left in you.”
Realization
hit her like a ton of bricks, tears welling up, “Jim…I-”
Cutting
her off, he sliced a hand through the air, making her jump. “No…whatever you have to say, keep it to yourself. You screwed us.”
“Can
I at least finish my dinner?” She asked,
trying to hang on to her composure.
“Do
what you want. I’m leaving.”
“But
how am I supposed to get home?”
“Take
a cab, walk, blow some guy in the kitchen…either way you choose, it’s not my
problem," taking his dinner and paying in cash, he left her sitting there
shocked.
An
hour later, finished with her food, red eyed, and a little drunk, Shauna walked
out the door to the valet, hoping somehow Jim had come back. He hadn’t.
Digging around in her clutch, she searched through her stuff, including
a compact 9mm pistol that made the valet shy away from her. Phone forgotten, she sighed, trying not to
lose that last shred of composure she had, and turning to the Valet, she
pointed at him.
“Can
I borrow your phone?”, she asked sharply.
Holding
his hands up as if being robbed, the kid held it out to her, “Lady, you can
borrow anything you want, just don’t kill me!”
Narrowing
her eyes and snatching the phone from him, she dialed a cab.
***
Putting
her phone away, Gomez looked up from the bar, surprisingly quiet for this time
of the evening, and frowned at Cooper thoughtfully.
“This
could end badly," she warned.
Wearing
a violet shirt and black pants sans the tie, sleeves rolled to the elbow,
Cooper looked ready for the office more than for a night at the bar. Sitting there with a margarita, he grinned,
shaking his head to her warning, “I’ll be fine.
No one knows I made copies…or for who.
You’ll just have to owe me sometime down the road."
Wearing
a cream colored blouse and black skirt, Gomez looked the part of a woman on a
date…just about. Shrugging, she took a
sip of her whiskey and then tapped the stack of papers he’d given her, “just
watch yourself. If they actually managed
to get Rosenthal to lie to Jim…God only knows what else they are doing.”
“Rosenthal? Lie? I
find that hard to believe.”
Picking
up her phone, she waved it and set it back down, “well Jim wouldn’t lie…and he
never jumps to conclusions. She tried to
tell him DeMeo was still alive."
“Shit…”
“Shit
is right," she answered. “This is
going to get messy, and Smith and I will have to head out in the
morning." Sliding off the barstool,
she was unexpectedly met by Cooper standing in time with her, hands to her
waist.
“I
guess this is goodnight?" He asked.
Breath
hitching in her chest, Maria parted her lips but no answer came. Finally, slowly, her hands found his and
after a moment started pushing them back down from her hips. “Yes…this is good night."
Harry
smiled, glanced down at his hands hanging by his side and then looked into her
eyes, “do it again sometime?”
Smiling,
Maria pursed her lips, “maybe…but if you grab my ass again, I may have to break
your hand."
“That’s
cold," he laughed. “If you’re taken,
I’m sorry…didn’t mean to uh-”
“It’s
complicated. Don’t apologize,"
reaching to take the stack of paperwork and reports, she patted his chest. “I owe you one, Harry. Just keep yourself out of trouble in the
meantime.”
Taking
her hand and patting her knuckles, Harry nodded, “stay safe, Maria. If you need anything, you have my
number." About to step away,
letting her hand go, he stopped and turned around, “oh…and goodnight”
“Goodnight,"
watching him leave ahead of her, Gomez picked her phone, went to Smith’s
messages, and punched SEND.
***
Now
home, still in her blue dress, Shauna was standing in her kitchen barefoot,
uncorking a bottle of red wine, her home phone on speaker mode as it dialed
out. Just as she got the cork out, a
male voice answered, “what is it, Rosenthal?”
“Mr.
Roberts…the US Marshals know we’re withholding information," she answered,
pouring herself a healthy glass of Merlot.
“I
thought you had it handled? Deputy
Marshal Thornton was supposed to be easy."
“His
partner found out that DeMeo was dead.”
“Jesus
Christ! What else do they know?”
“I’m
not sure. Thornton went cold as soon as
he was tipped off.”
“Was
it one of our people?”
Eyes
widening, Rosenthal shook her head vehemently.
“No! It can’t have been, they were
all briefed. Must have been one of the
local cops that were involved in the arrest."
“Still
think you can keep a line in on the Marshals with Thornton?” Roberts asked.
“I
don’t know," Shauna said, managing to keep her voice steady, but a tear
slid down her cheek, “he doesn’t trust me now.”
“Figure
it out…but we need a line into that office again. There’s a lot riding on this, and you’re
skating on thin ice.”
“Sir,
this is wrong…it’s unethical.”
“Ethics
is a matter of perspective…the Federal Bureau has a job to do, and the Marshals
are now swimming in our territory. I
doubt a committee would hear you out…and besides, you’re getting close to
retirement age.”
Shocked,
her jaw dropped, “I’m forty-three!”
“Close
enough to retire in a few years...if you don’t want to be forcibly retired
instead of that promotion, I’d suggest that you get this case back on track.”
“Yes
sir."
“I
don’t care what you have to do to Thornton, get him back on your side!"
Hanging up, Roberts left Rosenthal alone in her kitchen, wineglass in one hand,
head in the other. How could she get Jim
to trust her? She just lied to him about
a case that the Senate Committee overseeing the review of the US Marshals was
watching closely. Short of turning
Roberts into the Internal Affairs people, she wasn’t sure it was possible…and
she had been so close to getting him to let her in.
The
FBI was asking her to throw away a relationship all because one of the
directors had it out for the other agency and had a line in on the Senate
committee. Shauna had tried everything
to stay out of the middle, but kept getting sucked into it.
As the realization
that she was fighting a losing battle with both the FBI and James Thornton hit
her like a ton of bricks, so did the tears.
Sinking down to the floor, back against the cabinets, Shauna Rosenthal
sobbed into her wineglass.