Lie or Die: A Shelby Nichols Adventure (14 page)

“All right,” I agreed half-heartedly, discouraged that she didn’t show even a smidge of guilt for lying. “As long as you’re back by nine-thirty.”

“Sure.” She was thinking nine-thirty was later than normal to let her stay out on a school night, but she wasn’t about to tell me that.

I sighed, wondering if I could ever get being a mom right. I mean, even when I let her do something she wanted, she was thinking that I shouldn’t. How crazy was that?

By five-thirty, dinner was cleaned up, the boys were downstairs, and Savannah had left for Ashley’s. That gave me plenty of time to get ready before I had to leave at six so I could be to Uncle Joey’s by six-thirty.

I got dressed in my all-black ensemble and realized I’d have to wait until I got there to put on my wig. Then it hit me that I couldn’t remember if Uncle Joey had told me to wear my black wig, or if he’d just been thinking I should wear it. Or was it Ramos who’d mentioned it? Oh well…it didn’t matter now. I was wearing it because I thought it was a good idea.

I carefully placed it in my bag along with my glasses and glanced in the mirror. I looked kind of pale and sick. Just like I felt. I put some blush on my cheeks and decided to go with red on my lips since it was a power color. I rubbed my lips together and struck my sassy ‘don’t mess with me’ pose. That was more like it.

“I’m going to the store,” I yelled down to Josh. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“K,” he called back.

I fervently hoped I’d get back before Chris got home. There was a good chance I would with the late hours he’d been keeping so far. Hopefully, my luck wouldn’t run out tonight. I started my car and was soon on the freeway to Thrasher Development.

I pulled into the parking garage, and got to the office five minutes early. This was perfect since I needed some time to put on my wig. I walked into the office and found Ramos sitting in Jackie’s chair. He was dressed in black, and I couldn’t help but notice how nicely the snug t-shirt showed off his rippling pectorals.

“Hey babe,” he said. “Good timing. We were hoping to leave a little early.” He was thinking I looked different, then decided it must be the red lipstick. My shirt was nice. Too bad I couldn’t wear it.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

His lips quirked up in a rueful smile. Ha, he caught me.

I backtracked to his earlier statement of leaving early. “I can’t leave until I get my wig on, but it won’t take me more than a minute.”

“You brought your wig?” he asked. “What made you do that?” He was thinking it was probably because he’d suggested it.

“Didn’t you tell me I should?” I asked, confused, and a little suspicious at his question.

“Yup,” he said. But he was thinking
only in my mind
.

I clenched my teeth. He was baiting me, and it was making me mad. I tried not to let it show, treating it like I did when my kids pushed my buttons. He was not going to get the best of me. I scrunched up my eyebrows. “Funny…I thought it was my idea.” I took a deep breath. It was time to push back just a little. “You know…I like you Ramos. Don’t spoil it. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Wait,” Ramos said, sheepish that he’d pushed me into a corner. He realized that he’d gone too far and respected that I’d put him in his place. Not many people could do that. “Sorry, but you’ll have to put these on too.” He held up a t-shirt similar to his in one hand, and a ball cap that said ‘security’ across the front in the other.

His ‘sorry’ wasn’t meant for the clothes, but for how he’d been acting. I sighed, but gave him a quick smile to let him know we were good. I took the clothes to the restroom to change. I was kind of mad that I couldn’t wear my cute blouse, but usually when I did stuff like this, my black clothes got ruined, so maybe Ramos was doing me a favor.

The t-shirt was stretchy, but tight, so I tucked it into my pants, glad I’d worn a belt. I pulled my hair back and pinned it down before slipping on my wig. With it in place, I slid on my glasses and hat, pleased to find that I looked like a totally different person. Plus, the red lipstick balanced out all that black. Now all I needed was a gun to make me look like a kick-butt security person.

I hurried back into the office and found Uncle Joey quietly conversing with Ramos. They stopped talking to admire me in my outfit. Ramos was thinking he liked the results, but Uncle Joey thought I’d gone too far. He thought the glasses ruined the look, since he didn’t think a security person would wear them. Wouldn’t they just get in the way if a fight broke out? Not that it would, but still.

“I’m wearing the glasses,” I said. “If a fight breaks out, Ramos can handle it. I’ll use this.” I motioned to my waist where I had clipped my stun flashlight. “Don’t forget it’s got one million volts of shock-stopping power, and will drop anyone in their tracks.”

“Good,” Uncle Joey said, smiling. He was thinking that he liked my initiative and my willingness to play along in this role. Since both he and Ramos were packing, it might come in handy to have me armed with something. Who knew? Maybe by the end of the night I’d need it. “Let’s go. I’ll explain what I want you to do in the car.”

I wasn’t too nervous about tonight until I heard that. What kind of a club were we going to anyway? I got my answer as we drove out of the parking lot. “The club belongs to one of my associates, Lanny. It’s a boxing club…among other things, and he keeps up on the major movements, or happenings, in the city. He’s a good friend to have if you need ‘eyes and ears’ on things. That’s why I go to the club regularly. He likes my business, and I like his info. That’s where you come in. As part of my security detail, he won’t be suspicious of you. It’s like you’ll be invisible, which, for a woman in that place, is invaluable.”

“Why? What are most of the women like?” I asked, but quickly changed my mind. “Wait, never mind.”

He smiled. “You’ll see soon enough. Anyway, I’ll have to place some bets and mingle a bit. Hey…you could actually help me with the bets.” He was thinking I could ‘listen’ to the fighters, or their managers, and see who was throwing the fight, or who was supposed to win. He could actually make some money for a change. Wouldn’t that be nice?

“Do people actually throw the fights?” I asked, surprised.

“Most of the time. When I come around, Lanny always gives me a suggestion on who to bet on. But with his advice, I never know if I’m going to win or lose. That seems to be my price for the info he gives me. But with you there, I can have you or Ramos place the bets for me on the right people. It should work out great.”

“Yeah,” I said, a little sarcastically. “But the main reason you need me is to help you know what’s going on in the city, right? Because Lanny doesn’t always tell you everything?”

“Right.” Uncle Joey’s thoughts went quiet, like he didn’t want me to know that was only part of his plan.

I sat back, wondering if this was a waste of time. Was I actually risking my marriage to help Uncle Joey win some bets? How would knowing what was going on in the city help Chris’ case? The person threatening Chris had to be someone close to Uncle Joey, not some new thing going on in the city. In fact, the person who could help me the most was probably Uncle Joey. But I couldn’t tell him about the new threat.

Maybe I could phrase it in such a way that he wouldn’t know the truth? I’d have to figure out what questions to ask that would make him think about what I wanted to know. In the meantime, I had my work cut out for me, and I might as well make the most of it. I could pick up lots of things that might be helpful to Uncle Joey, and I could use them to bargain my way out of a mess if I needed to.

With this much to figure out, it was going to be a long night. I wished I had a small notebook or something in which to write down my findings. Keeping it straight was going to be a challenge. Just thinking about it made my stomach clench. Too bad I’d finished off all the Mylanta.

Ramos pulled the car around to the back of a warehouse-type building. A chain-link fence surrounded the property, and a guard stood in front of a tall gate. Ramos rolled down his window and handed him a card. The guard studied it, glancing inside to get a look at Uncle Joey. Satisfied, he pushed a button to open the gate, and we drove inside.

Ramos parked the car in an open space near the back of the lot. As he turned off the engine, he glanced at me. If he had any doubts about what I did, my conversation with Uncle Joey had effectively erased them. But he would keep it to himself, for now.

“Shelby,” Ramos began, “even though you’re only acting the part, I need you to keep alert. Watch where people put their hands. If it looks like anyone is going for a gun, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Things have been known to get out of hand here, but we should be fine,” he replied.

“Okay,” I nodded. From his mind, I knew Ramos wasn’t kidding, and the sick feeling in my stomach got worse.

Ramos eased out of the car to open Uncle Joey’s door. I scrambled out the other door, and rushed to flank Uncle Joey as we walked to the entrance. Ramos glanced at me and frowned, thinking I looked too scared for a security agent, and hoped I would get a grip. I quickly schooled my features into what I hoped portrayed cool detachment.

A burly guard at the door looked us over and, apparently satisfied, pulled the door open to let us in. Uncle Joey went first, with Ramos and me on either side of him.

The interior of the warehouse was an open room, and we stood at the top of a small arena. From here we could see the boxing ring below. To our right was a ticket counter where people lined up to place their bets. A schedule of the evening’s fights was posted next to it on a marquee, with the odds listed beside them.

The left-side corner contained three offices, and a man quickly emerged from the closest one, headed straight for us. He was pleased to see Uncle Joey, thinking it had been a long time since ‘The Knife’ had visited his establishment. He was equally surprised to find two bodyguards, and eyed me with curiosity. A woman for a bodyguard was unusual, but he supposed that Manetto had his reasons. Still, he would keep his eye on me, since something about me didn’t quite fit the part.

I straightened my stance and tried to keep from fidgeting or chewing on my lip like I normally did when I was nervous. I realized this guy was dangerous, and more observant than Uncle Joey gave him credit for. Nothing got past him.

“Mr. Manetto, good to see you,” he said, shaking his hand.

“Thanks, Lanny. You too,” Uncle Joey replied. He leveled Lanny with an ice-cold stare that spoke volumes. “Just thought I’d stop by and see how things are going. Maybe try and earn some of my money back.”

Lanny smiled, but there was a nervous twitch in his left eye. “Good. We’ve missed you around here.” He liked Manetto’s money, but the man still managed to give him the willies. The last time Manetto was here, he’d lost quite a bit of money. From the looks of things, the information he’d gotten might not have been worth it. He’d better make sure he didn’t lose tonight.

“I know,” Uncle Joey grimaced dramatically. “I’ve been a bit sidetracked lately, but I’m back now. Do you have anything of interest for me?”

“I do,” Lanny spoke with enthusiasm. “Come sit with me, and we’ll discuss it.” He was thinking that if Manetto won a few bets, he’d still have enough information to earn a payoff without telling him too much.

Lanny led us around the arena to the other side of the building where a staircase led to a glass enclosed room perched above the seats below. We entered into posh luxury quite different from the wooden benches on which everyone else sat. The room held many amenities, including a wet bar in the back and lots of scantily clad women bearing trays of food.

“Care for a drink?” Lanny asked Uncle Joey.

“Of course,” he replied.

Lanny signaled to a server, and soon had a glass of scotch in Uncle Joey’s hand. He motioned Uncle Joey to a corner table and sat, with Ramos and me standing protectively behind. Another woman descended with a platter of food, and after filling his plate, Lanny suggested Uncle Joey place a bet while he was there. The fight below had barely begun, and there was still time to pick a winner and make some money.

I picked up from Uncle Joey that this was a ritual they went through, but this time he had me to help him out. Lanny gave him a rundown of the fighters’ various strengths and weaknesses, and left it to Uncle Joey to decide. He was hoping Uncle Joey chose Razor, because he was sure to win, but this match could go either way. So nothing was a sure thing.

Uncle Joey turned, handing me five hundred dollars. “Place the bet for me will you?” he asked.

“Um…sure. I mean, yes sir,” I fumbled. Panic gripped me. Didn’t he know I’d never done this before? He turned his back but was thinking that all I had to do was go down to the box office, and say five hundred on whoever would win the match, and place it under his name.

I nodded absently, glancing at Ramos since he was thinking the same thing, and made my way out of the room with the money clenched in my hand. I was halfway to the box office when it dawned on me that I’d heard the name Razor before. I stopped to watch the match, and recognized the young man as the kid I’d seen. He was the gang member I’d listened to at the FBI office. What was he doing here?

As I watched, I heard someone thinking about me. He was wondering if he’d seen me before. I looked familiar.
Oh right, she looks like that psychic that came to the office. Only with black hair and glasses. That was sure weird.
His attention went back to the match, and I quickly headed straight to the box office. The undercover FBI agent was here too?