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Authors: Charlotte Bennardo

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BOOK: Blonde Ops
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“Angelo!” she snapped. “We need more light on Mrs. Jennings. I don't want any shadows on her face!”

Angelo's neck turned red—I could see it from across the room where I tried to stay out of the way.

“You don't worry, Serena, Angelo Bardoluciano make her
perfetto
!” he boomed with a hand flourish. Then he began mumbling none too softly in Italian. I was guessing it was about knowing his job; Angelo didn't take instruction well.

Serena's next victim was Varon, standing next to the door, out of the way of the frantic traffic of Kevin, Sophie, and Aldo fetching things.

“You're in the way, we need space to work!”

While Mrs. Jennings raised a brow, Varon's face remained impassive, but he crossed his arms over his chest. “I'm where I need to be.”

Between the black look on her face and her screechy voice, we all knew Serena was wound tight today.

She peered at Mrs. Jennings, then walked with calm deliberation to Joe's station. She fumbled around with his stuff as he pleaded silently with Varon for help. Varon's gaze stayed on Serena. A second later, she was making a straight line—scissors poised in her fist—toward Mrs. Jennings.

I was frozen, but my mind raced. It
had
been Serena! She bought the cables taking out Parker's car, and now, demented, she was going after the First Lady.

Collins leapt forward, tackling Serena while Ugi screamed and threw himself into Joe's arms.

Thud!

Serena and Collins hit the floor. She was dazed as Collins yanked the scissors out of her hands, his knee on her chest, pinning her to the floor. Nelson and Case had jumped in front of the First Lady, their bodies protecting her and guns drawn. Ortiz and Mignone blocked doorways, also with guns aimed at the editor.

“A thread!” Serena wheezed. “There's a thread hanging from the underarm of her dress! It needs to be snipped! Everything has to be flawless!”

Almost everyone turned to look at Mrs. Jennings. She lifted up her arm, and there was the sinister string.

Poor Serena was still on her back, splayed out in an unflattering position with her arms and legs spread-eagled.

“I wasn't going to hurt her!” she cried. “I'm sorry! I only want to make sure it's perfect.” She looked at Candace, frantic and wild-eyed. “Unlike some people,
I
care that it's perfect!”

Now she was all-out sobbing, and I felt sorry for her.

“Let her up, slowly,” Candace ordered. Collins holstered his gun and pulled Serena up none too gently.

“Can … can I go to my office?” she stuttered. Tears streaked her face, ruining her teal green eyeliner.

Candace nodded. “Collins, get her out of here. And she's to stay in that office.” Candace turned slowly around, her eyes resting on each person. “Everyone not needed,
out
. I will call you as you're needed. Joe, you stay and touch up Mrs. Jennings's hair. Ugi, you're next, so don't go far. Aldo and Angelo, is the equipment set up and ready to go?”

They both nodded.

“Wait in the hall.
Move it
, people!”

Sophie, Kevin, and I hurried out, Taj walking behind, unrushed.

“Taj, I'll call you in after our writer does her interview. Stay close,” Candace said.

He nodded and joined our group outside. The door was left open enough so we could hear but not see the interview. Ortiz stood guard downstairs, Mignone at the studio door. Collins was probably keeping a sharp eye on Serena in detention in her office. Nelson, Case, and Candace remained with Mrs. Jennings.

“Can you believe Serena?” hissed Sophie. “What was she thinking?”

“That's the closest she's gotten to Mrs. Jennings since she arrived,” Kevin mused wryly.

I shook my head. “And that's as close as she'll ever get.” Was Serena involved in the plot?

“I'm going to check on her.” Sophie looked at me and Taj, then elbowed Kevin in the ribs. “Don't you think you should
also
?” She wiggled her brows up and down.

“Uh, yeah. Of course, sure,” said Kevin. Sophie rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand.

Taj and I were finally alone, but he didn't so much as look my way. I stood there, uncomfortable being so close and feeling so far. I swallowed and headed for the stairs, but he snagged my wrist, stopping me.

“Nerves,” he said simply, crooking up one side of his mouth.

I nodded shakily, unsure of whether to stay or go.

He withdrew his hand. “I have to go over my notes.” He stared at me a few long moments and turned away.

That was my cue to leave. I went downstairs to the common area, no longer caring about the interview. Obsessed with working out the clues I'd collected, I tapped them into the notes app on my phone:

1. Parker and the First Lady looked alike. It was easy for Parker to have been mistaken for Theresa Jennings.

2. Whoever caused the accident was tech-savvy enough to know how to access a car's electronic systems and alter them.

3. Serena bought computer cables that could be used to connect to a car. She put them on the company expense account, yet there are no new cables in the office.

4. Serena didn't have, or didn't
appear
to have, any kind of technical expertise, but how-to info is easily obtainable.

5. She'd been high-strung from the moment Candace and the agents arrived; she'd gone loco over a thread today.

6. Parker may have seen something or someone right before her accident, but she is in no position to tell us what or who.

7. The Man was present before
and
during Mrs. Jennings's visit, showing up almost everywhere, and wherever Taj was.

8. Taj is very tech-savvy. He could easily have pulled off the car hack, but he hadn't been here.

9. Dante is courteously persistent about meeting the First Lady.

10. Dante is a good driver and navigated Rome's treacherous streets with ease.

11. It had been Dante's idea to go up on the crumbling Pantheon roof and take pictures.

12. Dante had cousins throughout Rome, even in the Vatican guard.

13. Serena, Parker, and Dante all knew each other; and Taj, Candace, and Parker all knew each other, but there didn't seem to be any suspicious connections.

14. Kevin, Sophie, Ugi, Joe, Aldo, Angelo, and Francesca seemed to have no connection to any of this other than that they worked at
Edge
.

15. Taj is a virtual ghost—neither I nor any of my friends can come up with anything other than the most basic of info on him.

16. Was the cyclist at the Pantheon targeting Taj and somehow involved?

17. The cape Mrs. Jennings wore to St. Peter's Square was tagged by one of the agents, but they didn't seem to have any backup systems when it didn't work.

I scrolled through the list I'd made. Nothing seemed to connect. I couldn't point a finger at any one person, which meant the First Lady was still in danger and I was no closer to figuring out who caused the accident.

I felt like I had to do something. Walking as fast as I could without running and inciting the twitchy agents to tackle me, I went upstairs, ignoring the suspicious looks first from Ortiz, then Mignone.

I heard Taj's voice. His interview was well under way.

“Tell us the truth—did you really try to sneak into the Smithsonian and try on every available inaugural ball gown?”

Mrs. Jennings laughed, then demurely evaded the question. Taj asked one or two more, and then the interview ended with Candace thanking her. I was anxious for Mrs. Jennings to leave, even though it was kind of sad to see her go.

“Excuse me,” said Taj as he followed Mrs. Jennings, Lidia, Candace, Case, and Nelson downstairs. “Would it be possible to get one picture of the First Lady across the street in the piazza? Just one—I can't use any of the
Edge
images. I need to have my own photos for the blog.”

He looked respectable—and irresistible—in his pristine and crisply starched robin's-egg blue shirt, open at the collar, cashmere vest, and gray suit, which fit every angle and contour of his perfect body. Who could say no to him?

Candace.

Hands on hips, she turned to him. “You don't have any pictures from the last few days? Why not? You had plenty of opportunities.”

“It's okay, Candace,” Mrs. Jennings said. “Taj can take a few quick photos. It's the least I can do for him for helping retrieve my cape,” she said, flashing a winning smile. “It'll only take a few minutes. And the cars are parked right there, aren't they, Case? I can duck right in.” She started walking, which meant the matter was decided.

With a stony face Case muttered, “Yes, ma'am.” He and the other agents weren't happy about this change of schedule, no matter how small.

“Thank you, Mrs. Jennings,” Taj said, making a little bow.

Amidst the mumbling and frowns, Nelson and Case went ahead to check out the piazza, Ortiz led the escort, and Candace followed. Mrs. Jennings asked Taj to walk with her so they could talk, Collins and Mignone at their sides, while Varon and I followed last. Kevin and Sophie were upstairs babysitting Serena. I couldn't wait to see Mrs. Jennings get into the limo and drive away, safe.

When we stepped outside, it was late afternoon. The light was soft and the heat of the day was dissipating. Ortiz crossed to the middle of the street to divert any traffic while waving everyone over. Taj took a few candid photos of Mrs. Jennings with the rustic houses as a backdrop. Then he had Candace pose with her.

“Thank you so much, Candace. I know this visit wasn't easy,” said Mrs. Jennings.

“It is always a pleasure to see you, Mrs. Jennings,” said Candace.

The First Lady turned to the rest of us. “And it was nice to meet and work with all of you. Try to enjoy the rest of your stay here—it is a beautiful city.”

My smile felt forced, I was tired and fidgety.

Case opened the door of the car. Nelson was at the wheel. Mrs. Jennings paused and turned to Taj. “Did you get enough pictures?”

He motioned to her to stand in the middle of the street. “Just one more.”

She posed in front of one house with boxes of dripping flowers. It would be a stunning photo. Taj lifted his camera to take the shot.

Bang!

An explosion of sound and smoke engulfed us. I heard screams and shouts and coughs. My eyes burned and teared as I gagged on the smell of sulfur. Even though my ears were ringing, I heard the pounding of frantic footsteps. I waved my arms frantically until at last the smoke began to thin.

And then it became really clear—Taj and Theresa Jennings were missing.

 

TRICKS AND TIPS FOR
THE EDGE-Y GIRL

You know the old rule—if you're going to splurge, put it in your hands or on your feet. Whatever you wear, make your bookends count. A fabulous bag and a great pair of shoes pull any outfit together.

26

Panic erupted.

Ortiz, pulling out her gun, ran down the only alley right next to the offices.

Candace shouted directions to the remaining agents to spread out and scour the area and then ran off herself.

I didn't know what to do—and then I saw Varon, lying in the street, Lidia next to him, hysterical. I ran to him, slowing my steps as I came near. He was breathing … and conscious. He gasped and winced, a look of pure agony on his face. Bending closer, I saw why. His hand was wedged in the manhole next to him, the heavy iron cover crushing his hand.

I looked around wildly. “Candace!” I called. But she was gone. I crouched down.

“Oh my God, Varon!” He grimaced and together Lidia and I tried to move the cover but it was too heavy. Our clumsy efforts made him cry out.

“I'm sorry!”

“Mrs. Jennings,” he panted. “They took her down there,” he said, leaning his head toward the manhole.

“In the sewer?”

He nodded again. Suddenly Joe was at my side, Ugi and Aldo behind him.

“Varon!” Joe cried, cradling his head for a moment, then turning to the other men. “Help me get his hand out!” As the three of them worked to carefully lift the lid, Sophie and Kevin came running out.

“What happened? Was that a bomb?”

People from the neighboring apartments started pouring out into the streets. Joe, Ugi, and Aldo got the manhole cover off, then Joe helped Varon to stand. I didn't bother to answer Sophie but knelt by the manhole and wrapped my fingers around the edge.

“What are you doing?” Varon gasped and clutched his swollen, bloodied hand to his chest. Every finger was bent at an odd angle; all the bones had to be broken. I shuddered, not wanting to imagine the pain he had to be feeling.

I looked around for Candace or any of the other agents, but they were all gone. “I have to go after Mrs. Jennings. None of the agents knows she's down there.”

Sophie and Kevin stood over me. I saw Varon nod reluctantly as I sat down on the street and dangled my legs in the hole.

“Are you crazy?” called Sophie as I clambered down a rusted ladder into the tunnel and dropped onto a floor paved with ancient-looking cobblestones. Miraculously, I didn't break an ankle. Thankfully there were no puddles or pools, but it was dark and damp and smelled of old sewage. It was all I could do not to vomit.

“Probably!” I shouted up.

“You can't let her go down there!” Lidia cried.

“Are
you
going to try and stop her?” Varon snarled. “We need
someone
to follow where it leads if Mrs. Jennings might be down there.” He was pale and unsteady on his feet. Unhappily, that made me a better choice.

“No. But we're going with her.” A second later, Sophie and then Kevin jumped down to join me.

“I thought you said I was crazy!” I retorted.

Sophie crossed her arms over her chest. “We can't let you go alone.”

BOOK: Blonde Ops
5.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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