"The Coffee House Spy" 10

Brent walked into the apartment and found Thies intently watching the clip of the man at Emily’s door.

“No need to wonder where he went; I saw him in the park.” Brent told him.

Thies looked up sharply.

“So he did escape over the rooftops to another building and down to the street.”

“I guess he did.”

“But wait, how could he do that without us seeing him? Stacy and I reached the landing only seconds after he walked out of the camera's range; we would’ve seen him ambling up those stairs.”

“No, you wouldn’t have because he isn’t as rotund as he seems,” Brent stated and shook his own fake girth for emphasis.

“Are you saying he was in a fat suit?”

Brent nodded to Thies and laughed at the irony. “Yeah, seems it’s the ‘in fashion’ for agent these days.”

Stacy had walked out of the kitchen in time to catch their last exchange.

“Are you kidding me? We’re being stalked by another agent in a Peter Perocino suit?”

Brent gave her jaundiced look. “Hey, don’t go naming this suit after my character. Besides, I wear it with panache.”

“Yeah sure you do, now back to this stalker. What did he do when you saw him; did he know you made him? Where did he go?”

Brent peeled off the itchy patchwork beard as he confessed. “I thought I’d cornered him behind a tree, but when we reached that tree…”

“He was gone.”

Thies finished the sentence for him and Brent nodded.

“Yeah, he disappeared in the breeze as one who could move swiftly would, and because I didn’t know he’d been in disguise until then, I didn’t scan for likely suspects holding gym bags, or such, walking away from that tree.”

“A slimmer figure with his disguise tossed into a gym bag would be a possibility,” Thies agreed with a nod.

“So, what I’m hearing is, we’re still working in the uninformed dark,” Stacy concluded.

“Looks like it.” Brent agreed sending her a commiserating grimace.

“Brent, if this is tied to your brother and the dog, we need to break into that warehouse tonight,” Thies suggested, finally shutting off the video player.

Brent’s eyes glittered with anger. “Yeah but we’ll need a plan and disguises; disguises that haven’t been sanctioned by the agency. That'll take time.”

“Agreed on the need for a plan and disguise, but disagree on the time needed.” Thies said already taking out his phone and entering a coded message.

“Wait, I get to pick my own disguise right? You aren’t going to implement a payback now, are you?” Stacy asked Brent.

Brent sent her a considering look then shrugged. “No, this is too important for me to play with fate. So you can rest easy this time Stacy but, there will be a time when payback is revisited.”

“But not now? I’m good with that.” Stacy shrugged then raised her coffee mug and asked, “Anyone want coffee; I made a fresh pot?”

"Sounds good; let me set up a few things and I'll be right there," Thies said as he continued to message someone on his phone.

"Just make sure you can trust the person you're asking for help," Brent said before following Stacy into the kitchen.

"No problem there," Thies assured Brent's retreating back.

*

Emily put a full bowl of food and another filled with water down on the kitchen floor for Sir Harry and then she sat down at her kitchen counter to finish the boring book on how to plant a vegetable garden in a small space.

She’d just turned to the first page when she felt a chill race up her spine. She looked up from the book and stared out the window. It felt like someone was watching her.

She shivered as she wondered if any of her neighbors could be voyeurs. The feeling of certainty, that she was being watched; was unsettling.

She got up from the kitchen stool and walked over to the window. She closed and lowered the blinds, blocking anyone’s view into her home.

“That was weird,” she said to Sir Harry who was too intent on his meal to look up at her, but his tail wagged in some sort of answer.

She decided the kitchen felt a little too creepy now so she'd take her work into her bedroom, and read the manuscript at her desk.

She picked up her work and Sir Harry gave her a cursory glance before returning his attention to the food in his bowl.

“I’m not leaving you; I’ll just be in the other room,” she told the canine and patted his furry head before she walked out of the kitchen.

Emily turned on her bedroom light and arranged the manuscript and her note pad on the small secretary desk in her room then she switched on the desk lamp and pulled out the chair, but as she sat down her foot hit the small waste basket lying on its side under the desk. She bent down to pick it up and heard a distinct clink. She looked inside and saw Sir Harry’s missing collar.

“How did it get in there?” She frowned, having only a vague memory of the night the dog had woken her up. She must have taken off the collar and tossed it without seeing where it landed. Apparently, she had pretty good aim to make a basket with it. She chuckled and placed the collar on the desk next to the how to manuscript. She opened it with a sigh and began reading the first page.

Two chapters in and she was bored to tears; how to prep the soil for an organic garden box made her yawn, and she was restless. Her foot tapped without rhythm on the wood floor and her hand strayed to the collar, absently flipping it over and over as she tried to concentrate on the words. Then her fingers slid over the coarse underside of the collar and telegraphed to her brain that there was a strange, roughly stitched seam, and her fingers began to navigate it.

Emily’s focus was not on her work anymore; she placed a bookmark on the page she’d been trying to read and closed the book. Her attention had been fully diverted to the oddity in Sir Harry’s collar.

She held the collar under the desk lamp and the bright bulb shone on what appeared to be an uneven row of stitches. She ran her finger over those stitches and felt a small lump just beyond them. She searched for the needle pointed tweezers she kept in her dresser drawer, to pull out those stitches.

*

Stacy, Thies and Brent sat at the kitchen table with fresh mugs of coffee and large, Dagwood type sandwiches, made after raiding Brent’s refrigerator, and discussed the plan to enter the warehouse.

“I’ve made arrangements to get us night watchman uniforms,” Thies told them.

“You sure you have someone trustworthy?” Brent asked, unconvinced he did.

“Yes, this connection is solid.”

“I’m going to need more on that connection, if I'm going to trust that remark,” Brent challenged.

“I’d stake my life on this person’s loyalty, and I have; they’re trustworthy.”

“Still need more.” Brent crossed his arms and waited.

Stacy watched the ego’s clashing and sipped her coffee wondering if she’d made any connections in the three years she’s worked for the company, other than Brent, that’s she’d feel safe to contact in a  dire situation. Her answer was a firm no. No friends and a big void between family members made her uninterested in going any further down that dire road of thought. So she turned her attention back to the dueling egos.

“Look, if Thies says he can get us the uniforms, why are you grilling him? You want to get in that warehouse don’t you?” Stacy asked Brent.

“Yes, of course I do.”

“Then there’s no better way to do it than with a night guard’s uniform,” she said, staring him down.

Brent frowned at her, but agreed.

“Fine, but three night guards just showing up, won't that be suspicious?”

“My connection said there are nine guards every night; armed and primed for a break-in,” Thies explained.

“They’re expecting a break in?” Brent’s brow rose and his tone was incredulous.

“It appears so,” Thies confirmed.

“The other guards will know we aren’t part of their pack,” Brent surmised, having doubts the plan would work.

“They switch them out arbitrarily from other jobs and none of them know each other,” Thies explained.

“Why is that?” Stacy asked, caught up in the intrigue too.

“I think it avoids friendships; you know; if they have to kill one of their own.”

“Huh, that’s...tragic.” Stacy didn't like the explanation.

“It is tragic,” Thies agreed, “but in this case; it’s in our favor.”

“I’m not so sure I’d call that favorable; getting shot by a suspicious night guard is more a risk factor to me,” Stacy gave him a troubled look and shook her head.

“I’m not thrilled by that possibility either Stacy, but it’s the only way we can get in there,” Brent reasoned with her, then asked Thies, “How do we get these uniforms without detection?”

“My partner is bringing them to-.”

“Wait a minute,” Stacy interrupted, “You have a partner?”

“Technically no; we haven’t been partners since we began in the agency years ago, but we keep close; help each other out whenever we can.”

“So this is your trusted agent?” Stacy asked with interest.

“Yes.”

The doorbell rang and they froze but then Thies stood up saying it could be his partner.

They walked into the living room just as there was a sharp knock on the door followed by a soft voice announcing, “Pizza delivery.”

“Don’t open the door; we didn’t order any pizza,” Stacy whispered.

Thies smiled at her and opened the door.

The woman, and you could tell it was a woman, standing there, in the well know pizza logo t-shirt and jeans, was tall and shapely. Her face was covered by the company baseball cap that sat low over her eyes and her voice was low and throaty.

“I got your pepperoni and onion pizza here sir,” she said with a taunt in her voice.

“Now I know I didn’t order that,” Thies grumbled, but he gave her a wide grin as he took the box and told her to step inside while he got his wallet. The last was said for any ears beyond their apartment that might overhear them.

Once the apartment door closed behind her, the statuesque pizza delivery person tossed off her cap and a ponytail of glorious auburn hair spilled out.

“It’s been awhile Thesis,” she teased and flipped open the pizza box  he held to grab a warm slice of pizza and sighed, “Mmmmm, my favorite.”

“And as usual, you have to do it your way Grace.”

“This is your partner?” Stacy realized she’d said it combatively when all eyes turned to her; she stuttered trying to deflect, “I…I mean she seems so far out of your league.”

“Oh I like her,” Grace said with a magnificent smile, “And she’s right; I am out of your league.”

“Where’s the uniforms Grace?” Thies asked flatly.

“Right here,” she said reopening the apartment door and showing him two more pizza boxes stacked outside the door. She picked them up and handed them to him.

“Thanks for the generous tip mister; the extra garlic sauce is in the box; see ya’,” she said with an exaggerated, Brooklyn accent and a suggestive wink. Then she tucked her hair back under the cap and lowered it over her eyes as she walked to the landing. She gave a nearly undetectable nod to Thies before she ran down the stairs.

“Wow; that is some partner,” Brent said with a big grin and whistled.

Stacy shot him an annoyed look. “You’ve got a partner too you know.”

Brent swung his eyes to her and nodded, and knowing it would annoy her, he shrugged and casually agreed, “Sure.”

The one word claim did annoy her, but it wasn’t Brent’s reaction to the impressive agent that tilted her frown down; it was her reaction to that partner that bugged her. She didn’t like feeling like she didn’t measure up to...anyone; she was who she was, a worthy agent and partner. She didn’t doubt her abilities and wasn’t pleased with her childish reaction when she'd met Thies’s old partner…old, now that was a word that didn’t fit.

She frowned and shook off her stupid musings. She didn’t care about the possibility Thies’s partner and he were more than…oh never mind, she was not going to go there either. She looked over at the pizza boxes and groused, “So do you think she got my size right?”

“Only one way to know,” Thies smiled at her,” You’ll have to try it on.

Stacy’s frown increased as she walked over to the couch.

Thies opened the two fake pizza boxes to find the uniforms were neatly folded inside and underneath one of them, was a map. The map had the key entry points noted and an x by the heavily guarded door that held Russ’s apartment contents behind it.

“She’s good,” Brent said with a nod looking over the uniforms and the detailed map.

“We have access badges too,” Thies said and tossed a badge to Brent and he held the other one out to Stacy.

Brent looked at his and smiled. “Dragon Proudman; now that’s a name I can live with,” he said with a grin.

Stacy stepped closer and looked down at the badge Thies held out for her and she grimaced.

“Persephone Pickleton, really? And you said this wasn’t going to be payback,” she fumed, turning to Brent with a glare.

Brent held up his hands in surrender. “It wasn’t me; I promise it wasn’t, but it is funny.”

Thies coughed and Stacy swung her eyes to him; he was definitely gloating.

“You did this? Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know P.P., it seemed appropriate.”

“Oh I see, because I introduced you to Emily as Paul Perocino.”

“Don’t forget you’d informed her, I was affectionately called P.P., but besides that, I think you can carry this name off; don’t you?” He challenged and seeing her face redden he hid a smile and turned back to Brent. “There are instructions, Grace noted on the back of the map, the code words we need for access to the site, and a schedule of the guards patrol patterns.”

“We can lay the map out on the coffee table and go over our plan and performances, and have some Pizza too,” Brent suggested.

“You can have the pizza,” Thies grimaced eyeing the pepperoni and onion combination with distaste.

Brent laughed. “I thought it didn’t appeal to you; so I guess your ex-partner likes to tease you?”

“Grace is unique.”

“Why’d she call you Thesis?” Brent asked as he picked up a slice.

“Her way of saying I was too full of my opinions and theories; they didn’t always align with hers.”

“Ah…like a boring thesis; I get it,” Brent chuckled and took a big bite of the pizza and sighed, “Hmmm, this is delicious.”

“Just eat the pizza, no need for uneducated opinions and…no one said boring,” Thies replied with a shake of his head.

“Grab a slice,” Brent said to Stacy.

“Nah, I’m not hungry,” she said picking up one of the uniforms. She held it up and knew it was a man’s size and form and put it down. The next one was shorter and slimmer and when she held it up; it looked like a perfect fit.

“How’d she get my size so close to correct?” She wondered out loud.

Thies looked up at her and nodded. “Good, I told her what size I thought you might be; I guess I was correct.” He smiled at her a second longer then looked back at the map.

Stacy stood speechless, very unlike her quick, witted self; she had no retort. But how could he have guessed her size when he hadn’t ever really looked at her, not for more than a second anyway?

Stacy carried the uniform into the bedroom to try it on and see just how well it fit.

When she stood in front of the mirror her eyes went wide with surprise; the uniform fit her to an inch of her skin; it was like a body glove. Maybe she’d have to rethink that theory about Thies not having noticed her.

*

Emily had successfully pulled out all of the stitches and found a small pocket inside the collar’s coarse backing. She slid her fingernail under the open stitches and dislodged a small flat disc; it looked like the kind she had in her cell phone for external storage.

“Why was this sewn into Sir Harry’s collar?”

Sir Harry trotted into the room and stretched out at her feet, ready for a nap after his meal. She looked at the dog and thought about his owner, and her first impression of him being a spy resurfacced.

She remembered he’d put his phone number into her contacts. Maybe it was time she called him, to let him know his dog was doing well and to ask if he'd be interested to know…she’d uncovered his secret, hidden disc?

*