Project Produce (11 page)

Don’t even think about inspecting me, creep
.

Grabbing my newly-charged phone, I flipped it open and then hung up, biting my bottom lip. Somehow, I didn’t think the officer manning the desk at the police department would appreciate a second phone call claiming Inspector Gadget was following me. Besides, I couldn’t take any more gum snapping.

I peeked over my shoulder. He shoved something in the inside pocket of his bulging coat and then pulled the edges closed. I swallowed. There might be a gun in there.

With no intention of letting this weirdo know where I lived, I decided to get off at the next stop. I pulled the cord, and the subway car’s brakes squealed as it came to a body-wrenching halt. I stayed still until the last possible minute and then bolted out the door seconds before it closed, hoping to lose the Inspector. With long strides, I put some distance between the subway and me.

A few minutes later, I checked behind me again and couldn’t believe it. Gadget ducked under an awning and pretended to window shop. This guy really was following me. If I couldn’t lose him, then I had to outwit him.

“Okay, pal, two can play at this game.”

I pretended not to see him but slowed my pace to avoid losing him. Rounding a corner, I headed onto a less busy street and then slipped into a deserted doorway. I pulled off my heavy mittens and slid my backpack off my shoulder, unzipped the bag, and then rummaged inside for something, anything, that could be used as a weapon.

Most women carried their lipstick, a brush, some perfume... not me. I never understood why women fussed so much over themselves. All I needed was an extra tampon, some ibuprofen, and maybe a real can of pepper spray. Now those were useful items. How on earth would a tube of lipstick help me if I got into trouble?

Since I didn’t even have Gloria’s deodorant--let alone pepper spray--and I didn’t think a tampon would help me in this crisis, I’d have to make do. But I couldn’t find anything useful in the contents of the main zipper. After searching all the other compartments with no success, my hand bumped against something hard in a side pocket I never used. Frowning, I unzipped the pocket and gasped.

Gloria
.

I didn’t know whether to kill her or kiss her for leaving me this little surprise. Some people walked by the entrance, reminding me of why I was hiding in a deserted doorway as dusk settled around me, so I stuffed my shaking hand in my pocket and waited with my weapon.

I’d deal with Gloria later.

CHAPTER SIX

Forget the bongos, a whole flipping drum line banged against my chest as I hid in the doorway. The guy following me who looked like Inspector Gadget would be turning the corner at any second, and I planned to be ready.

Okay, so maybe I was a little nuts. But I couldn’t call the cops. Like they’d believe me after the “cat attack” complaint. I snorted. And calling Dylan? Well, that was out of the question.

As I studied the few people who walked by, a blast of overpowering perfume assaulted my nose. Whew, someone needed to tell Ms. I-Smell-Expensive that less was more. Covering my face with my free hand, I held back a sneeze. Who was I kidding? I couldn’t do this. I wasn’t a cop. I couldn’t save anyone. I wasn’t even particularly good at saving myself.

To heck with this
.

Adjusting my backpack, I got ready to bolt when I spotted Gadget’s hat.
Shoot
. No time to run. I made the sign of the cross. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I needed all the help I could get. Gadget appeared and the drum line hit their finale. I grabbed his arm, pulled him into the doorway, and then jammed my weapon into his back.

“Oomph!” He jerked.

“Don’t move.” I took a deep breath. Everything would be fine if I just stayed calm.

“Take it easy, lady. Don’t do anything crazy.”

“
Me
do something crazy? That’s rich. You’re the one who’s been stalking me.” I pushed my weapon even harder into his back. He grunted but held still.

“Stalking you? I’m not stalking you,” he scoffed.

“Really. Then explain why you passed through the hotel doors at least a dozen times today and never once asked about a room. I’d say that makes you a tad suspicious, wouldn’t you?”

He glanced at me over his shoulder, registering surprise. “Well, there goes my cover.” He cursed under his breath.

“Cover? Cover for what?”

Hesitating, he answered, “Hotel security. Undercover hotel security.”

“Does your job description include following employees after their shifts have ended?”

He grunted, shaking his head. “You give yourself too much credit, ma’am. My shift is over, and this is my stop.”

“Uh-huh.” I checked him out again. He seemed harmless enough, if a bit eccentric, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I jammed my weapon harder into his spine.

“Yo, watch it, lady. I’m not going to hurt you. Please put the gun down.”

Not about to put my ‘gun’ down, a hysterical giggle slipped out at the absurdity of my predicament. Stressful situations tended to do that to me. Like when I’d found out Bob had videotaped us having sex and then published the footage on an Internet pornography website, I’d laughed myself silly. People thought I was demented, especially my parents, and then I’d cried. He’d not only used me, he’d also cheated on me with at least six other women. Not about to lose it in front of the Inspector, another giggle slipped out.

“Please put the gun down,” he repeated. “It’s gonna go off.”

I barked out a laugh this time. Things could turn ugly real quick, yet all I could do was crack up. Time to call the funny farm, because my faculties had officially vacated my brain.

“Ma’am? You’re not going psycho on me, are you? Your hand’s shaking quite a bit.”

“Oh, don’t worry. You’re completely safe even if this thing does go off. Trust me, it--”

Bzzzzzzz!

“Oh, my God,” I yelped.

“Jesus, what the hell is that?” He jerked forward and spun around to stare at my vibrating pocket.

“It’s not mine. Well, it is, but I didn’t buy it.” I pulled the flesh-colored rubber vibrator out of my pocket and fumbled with the monstrosity, trying to find the switch. “The Jackrabbit 2000 in the flesh... or peach-colored rubber, take your pick.” I thrust my hand in front of his face. “Help me turn this sucker off. There’s no button.”

“Holy Christ, I don’t know what to do.” He jumped back.

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” I mumbled, filling the gap between us. “You have to help me.” I shoved the vibrator into his hands.

“I don’t want it, and I sure as hell don’t need it.” He held it far away from him. “Damn thing doesn’t even look real.”

“Really. Too big? Too small? How does it compare to you?”

“What the hell kind of question is that?” He gaped at me, his golden brown eyes as big as pancakes.

Stupid project
. “Never mind. Just help me turn it off. I can’t get on the subway like this.”

He cursed. “Fine.” Then he examined it closer and grinned like he’d just figured out the answer to the winning question on Millionaire, and he didn’t even have to phone a friend.
Can you imagine that conversation?
I forced down another giggle, and he said, “Aha. It twists at the base, see.” He gave the vibrator a good twist.

The wrong way.
Bzzzz-rrrrrrrrr!

Good ole Jack surged into full speed.

Gadget’s hand jerked and he nearly dropped it, fumbled, grabbed at the air, then finally caught the wiggly sucker with a horrified look on his face. I grabbed on for good measure, and the head began to rotate like a convulsing snake just as a group of pedestrians walked by... and stopped... and stared.

“Uh, just practicing for a new movie. Attack of the Killer Vibrator,” I blurted, and the ungodly contraption chose that moment to spit what looked like whipped cream, everywhere. But mostly on me, since Gadget still had the blasted thing pointed in my direction. “Must be poisonous.” I forced a laugh.

They gave me an appalled look, then hurried along.

“Give me that thing.” I yanked it from Gadget’s hands and twisted it the opposite way until, blessedly, it shut off.

“Attack of the Killer Vibrator?” he sputtered.

“It was either that, or Inspector Gadget Has a Sex Change.”

“Inspector who?” His brow puckered.

“Never mind.” I stuffed Jack into my backpack and held out my hand. “I’m Callie, and you are?”

“Dumbfounded.” He shook my hand in a daze, still staring at my backpack.

“You are?” I prompted again.

“Oh, um, my lips are sealed. My cover, remember?”

“Right.”
Cover, schmover
. “A word of advice?” I tugged on my mittens, slipped on my backpack, and headed into the street.

“Sure.” He matched his strides to mine with difficulty, considering the bulk of his coat.

“Maybe you should dress a little less conspicuous.” As he adjusted his coat, his pockets gaped open, and I stole a quick glance. Holy cow, he really did have a gun in there. Peering closer, I choked. A gun?
Sweet Jesus
. He had the entire police force arsenal in there. Why, he even had a pair of binoculars and a magnifying glass. This guy really was Inspector Gadget. What next?

“It’s the overcoat, isn’t it?” When I nodded, he stared at his feet. “Damn, I was afraid it would be overkill, but you can never be too careful, you know.”

“What did you say?” I stumbled, then caught myself.

“I said you never can be too careful. Why?”

“No reason.” I started walking again. No reason except he was the second person today to talk about being careful. What on earth was going on?

Note to self: This is weird, even for me
.

“Well, nice meeting you,” I said. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Hopefully not,” he muttered. When I frowned, he added, “I won’t have a job for long if I can’t keep my cover.”

My backpack chose that moment to start buzzing, reminding me of Gloria.
Gloria
. Wait just a freaking minute, she knew a lot of strange people. My new pal Jack had been surprise enough. If she was playing a trick on me, she was dead meat. I was talking six-feet-under dead meat.

Gadget eyed my jiggling pack and shook his head. “I think I’d find a ‘less conspicuous’ weapon if I were you.”

“Funny. Well, bye then.” I started down the stairs to the subway but stopped when I heard the words, “Brat two.”

“Excuse me?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Uh, my radio. Probably work. Gotta go.” And with a whoosh of camel-tan coattail, he disappeared.

“Right.”
Work, my big ole behind
.

Bzzzzzzzz!

“Oh, shut up, Jack,” I snapped and continued down the stairs, praying no one would notice.

***

Later that evening, I leaned back in my chair at the kitchen table in the small, one-bedroom apartment. As I sipped my third Bahama Mama, while listening to one of Gloria’s salsa CD’s, I rubbed my stomach. After having eaten an entire box of macaroni and cheese, I was ready to burst. Then I glanced at the clock on the wall just as Gloria--Ms. Six-Feet-Under-Dead-Meat--strolled in.

“It’s nine o’clock, honey. Time to take a break. You’re gonna fry your brain with all that work.”

After the day I’d had, comfort food, comfort drink, and comfort music had been a relief, but Gloria was right. I couldn’t work on my project anymore. I needed to get up and move around. “Don’t know about frying my brain, but I’m positive my legs will never be the same.” I straightened and shook out the tingles.

“Well, that’s what you get sitting cross-legged on a hard chair for hours.” Gloria poured a glass of water, gargled, and then spit in the sink. “Come out with me tonight. I got a gig. I actually got a gig, can you believe it? Finally, someone’s gonna pay to hear me sing. No more open mic for me, no way, no how.”

“That’s great, Gloria. I’m happy for you, but I can’t go.” I glanced at the phone and then looked away. “I have way too much work to do.”

“Don’t try to play a player, chica. You already worked for three hours. You’re just waiting for your hot Detective to call.”

“He’s not my anything. Well, except my zucchini, maybe, and that’s only if my Angels can’t find another one. And I’m not waiting for him to call.”

“Sure, you’re not.” Gloria set her glass in the sink. “Then you won’t mind if I call him, because, honey, he is oh so right up my alley.” She picked up the phone.

“Hey.” I jerked, and the legs of my chair hit the floor with a bang.

“Aha. You do mind.” Gloria hung up and grinned. “Guess you won’t need to use my little surprise after all, now that you have your zucchini back.”

“Oh, I used it, all right.”

“No shit? I couldn’t resist after you told me what your Angels had said, but I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it. You go, girl.” Gloria gave me a thumb’s-up. “How’d you like it?”

I rolled my eyes. “I used it on a man.
Your
man.”

“Say what?”

“Inspector Gadget ring any bells?” I asked, but when Gloria frowned, I probed further. “How about Cat Woman, then?”

“Honey, are you on something?”

Clearly, Gloria didn’t know what I was talking about, which left me wondering who on earth these people were. “Never mind.”

“Oh, hell no. You don’t start with something like that and not give details. Spill it.” She folded her silk-clad arms, bangle bracelets clanging, then leaned back against the counter as though she had all the time in the world.

I groaned. “Let’s just say I met some interesting people, and your little surprise made a pretty decent weapon. Until Jack decided to go off. Made a complete fool of myself figuring out how to shut him up, but then he turned on again all by his own little self. Made quite a scene on the subway, let me tell you. I had no trouble grabbing a seat. No one wanted to come near me.” I scowled at her. “Gee, I can’t imagine why.”