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"Whah, as I live and breath, Sandy-Sue Morrow is that you?" A voice drifted across the airport. Sady thought she'd died and gone beauty pageant hell. That over-the-top, fake southern accent could belong to only one person.
Instinctively, Sady's got big, and she hissed at Matt, "How far behind is the chaperon? Quick, hide that beer, and I'll get rid of the cigars!"
"Are you okay?" Matt asked. Sady flushed, realizing what she said.
She grabbed his arm and whispered, "Where's the nearest emergency exit? Even if it sets off an alarm, just go, because this is an emergency. Run, before she catches us!" That was the worst thing she could have said. Matt stopped and looked around with a grin. He took her arm and held tight.
"This is sure to be epic. I'm not going anywhere... and neither are you. Did I just hear a voice from your past call out to you?"
"No! It's a case of mistaken identity. Now hurry up before Barbara-Jean tells the chaperon we just saw an 'R' rated movie." Sady tugged Matt's arm, but it was too late.
"We're at the Detroit airport, not the movie theater. You're hallucinating, Sandy-Sue," he teased.
"Worse- I'm dying. Please, just pull the trigger now," she begged Matt, as a blonde woman approached. Of all the women from her past life in the beauty pageant business, Barbara-Jean Maxwell was near the bottom of her 'desired reunions' list.
Barbara-Jean, who told on Sady and her adventurous cohorts more times than Sady could count. Barbara-Jean, who spied on her fellow contestants and reported any infraction of the rules. Barbara-Jean, the bane of her beauty pageant days. And now, Barbara-Jean spotted her at the airport. She still has the eagle eyes, Sady thought with a grimace.
"Sandy-Sue!" Barbara-Jean pinched Sady's arms. They did the fake hug-kiss greeting, and Barbara-Jean continued. "Why, you don't look good at all. Have you been sick?"
"It's Sady, now," she replied, ignoring the not-so-subtle insult. "It's... been a while." It wasn't nice to see her, so Sady improvised.
Barbare-Jean flapped her hand. "I, know! I was just thinkin' to myself, I wonder how all the girls are these days. Oh, and you can call me Babs. Is this your husband?" She eyed Matt like a piece of meat.
"You can lose the accent, Babs. I know you're from Connecticut."
Babs smiled and shrugged, with no shame. "I forget myself when I see someone from the past. It's natural instinct," she said in a normal voice, smiling at Matt.
So are guppies eating their own young, Sady thought. She pasted on a smile and introduced Matt. He wasn't immune to the charm, flattery, and obvious good looks Babs worked hard to maintain. Sady thought Babs appeared ready for a spotlight appearance.
"Are you still working the circuit?" Sady asked. The catty remarks now came naturally to both women, a past survival skill that kicked in automatically.
"I stayed on through a few Mrs. competitions, but after my latest divorce I had to give that up," Babs admitted to Sady's surprise. Then she showed her claws again. "You obviously haven't competed for quite some time. Well, they say that the girls who burn out often let themselves go. But there's no disgrace in that, Sandy-Sue. I'm sure you have a useful little life with a husband and children running around at home."
Matt grinned, and Sady knew the look. He was waiting for this to descend into a catfight. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Ignoring Babs' snotty remarks, she said, "What brings you to Michigan?" Matt's brows rose.
"I'm here to run a beauty school," Babs announced proudly. "For over-privileged girls."
Sady frowned, "Did you say over-privileged? How is that possible?"
"You obviously don't know the prejudice people harbor against those with money. Why, it's shocking. A parent can't just buy their little girl a spot in a beauty contest anymore. They have to qualify. Can you imagine?"
"No, I can't," Sady replied dryly. "And you've come to help these over-privileged rich girls qualify to get into contests?"
"Absolutely! You wouldn't believe the demand for my services. I have openings in my staff if you are looking for a job," she offered. "As I recall, you always had original talent acts."
"She still does," Matt interrupted.
Sady frowned at him and hissed, "Don't encourage her!"
Turning to Babs, she politely declined. Babs pressed a business card into her hand. "Just in case you change your mind." They did the fake hug-kiss routine again, and Babs disappeared in the crowd.
"That was close!" Sady said, letting out a breath of relief. With a laugh she said, "Of all the places I can imagine Babs not visiting- ever- Detroit is one."
"Don't knock it," Matt said. "There's a lot of money in some metro suburbs. I'm sure she knows that too."
"Well, if there's one sure thing, it's that this state does not need Barbara-Jean Maxwell's presence. The economy is depressed enough without her sucking out the money like a vacuum."
Matt laughed. "Do I detect a little professional jealousy, Sandy-Sue? Ouch!"
"CJ taught me that move. If you want to continue in a vertical position, I expect an apology... and make it good!" Sady had her fingers poked into Matt's neck. "If I squeeze a little harder on that pressure point you're going down," she threatened.
"Sady, you grace the airport with your beautiful presence. The birds come out just to sing for you. How's that?" he asked, glancing out the corner of his eye at her.
"Not good enough. My ego is still bruised. Say something mean about Babs!"
"Compared to you, Barbara-Jean Maxwell looks like a man in drag." The finger pinch eased slightly, but didn't get removed. "Compared to you, Barbara-Jean Maxwell looks like a man?" Sady smiled and removed her fingers.
Matt grinned and moved out of arm's reach. "Beer and cigars? You girls lived on the wild side, didn't you?"
"We might have tipped the scales a time or two," Sady admitted. "Some of us, I should say. Babs didn't. She was like an irritating mosquito. Every time you thought she was gone, she'd sneak back and bite you again. After she reported to the chaperon." Her eyes got huge. "Darn, I bet she told our landlord I have a pet!"
Before Matt could reply, a voice from behind said, "Please, tell me that mouthy woman is a target so I can make her disappear. She made that flight a trip from hell. Ten minutes in, and most of us were praying to go down in a flaming ball of fire. You can tell Morrow it's my treat."
Sady whipped around to see a blonde woman with cool green eyes. "You must be Daria?" she asked. She and Matt were picking up one of John Morrow's newest recruits. Although Morrow never divulged his official government title, she knew he was more than an IRS auditing bully. With the events she recently witnessed and the pieces she put together, Sady understood his job was tied closely to one of the more lethal government agencies, likely the FBI or CIA.
Seeing the woman in front of her confirmed that belief. She hoped he didn't expect miracles. Polishing the social skills of a woman, who walked like a man, wore no makeup, and kept her straight blonde hair yanked into a messy ponytail was challenging. Daria Bennett wore a black T-shirt, leggings, and hiking boots. Her purse was a small camo backpack.
She nodded in response to Sady's question. "And you're..." her lips twitched, "Sandy-Sue? Your uncle showed my a photo."
Sady made a sound of disgust and raised her eyes. "Please tell me I wasn't wearing lace or glitter. And everyone calls me Sady now."
Daria's probing green eyes studied Sady for a minute, comparing the tall brunette to the younger woman in the photo Morrow had shown her. Then she examined Matt- tall, dark, and handsome with blue eyes. She and Matt were acquainted through Morrow, but they'd never worked together.
Daria suddenly grinned and poked Matt. "You're getting soft, Meadows."
"Ouch! What is it with women and jabbing fingers?" Matt asked.
"It comes with the dough boy look," Daria replied..
Matt rubbed his side and formally introduced Sady to Daria. Sady smiled and held out her hand. Daria squeezed, then said, "Sorry, it's just a habit," when Sady winced.
Sady shook her sore hand and squinted at Matt. "I know what you're thinking and you can put that look away." He tried to look innocent while Daria lifted a questioning brow so Sady explained, "Cat fight."
Daria rolled her eyes and asked, "Do they ever outgrow that fantasy?"
"Oh, it's more than a fantasy," Matt assured her. "Sady turned it into a reality, didn't you?"
"Reality? It was self-preservation," Sady said with a snort. "You and Arch were no help when I was attacked."
"Let me give you some advice," Daria said to Sady. "With men, especially those two, don't ever count on them for anything. Except trouble and headaches."
"Do you want to walk to Ann Arbor?" Matt asked Daria.
"Do you?" Sady responded. "I think she can take your keys if she wants to."
Daria wagged a finger at Matt, and he said, "There's no need to get mutinous, ladies. Why don't we get out of here before the traffic gets worse?"
"Men are also good at diversionary tactics when they're cornered," Daria told Sady at the baggage claim. She loaded Matt like a pack mule. "They'll work as errand boys in a pinch."
"Shut up," Matt suggested. "Sady and her running crew don't need any advice from you." He adjusted the bag digging his shoulder and tried not to drop the others. Upsetting Daria, or any of Morrow's crew, was never wise.
"Hey, Morrow sent me here to train her," Daria said defensively.
"I think he has an exchange program in mind," Matt told her. "Unless you don't need training. Can you do a runway walk for us?" She squinted her eyes, and he said, "I'll shut up now."
"You need to learn how to use those eyes, Sady," Daria instructed while she patted Matt on the head. "See how obedient they become with one deadly look?" Matt looked pained but didn't respond.
They exited the airport and Matt cursed when he saw his truck. "Still parking in the drop off only zone, Meadows?" Daria asked with a snicker. He dropped her bags, and they scowled at each other.
Sady nudged Matt. "Give me your keys."
"I'm not handing my truck keys to you, Sady. I've seen how you drive and..."
"Fine, go ahead and pay the parking ticket," she interrupted with a shrug. He looked at the officer pulling out a ticket pad, and he handed his keys to Sady.
"Don't get me arrested," he warned.
"Just get the bags loaded, while I take care of this," she told him.
Ten minutes later they were on their way, ticket free. Sady handed Matt a piece of paper with the officer's phone number. "This is yours," she teased. He grabbed the paper, wadded it into a ball, and threw it out the front passenger window.
"He's picked up the bad habit of littering. Maybe you can teach him to stop," Sady told Daria in the rear-view mirror. To Matt, she said, "If I get pulled over for that you're on your own. One rescue is your limit today."
"I suppose you gave that officer my phone number?" Matt asked sourly.
"Don't be stupid. I gave him Barbara-Jean's card," she chuckled.
"Are you going to let me drive my own truck?"
Sady gave him a smirk that said Don't be stupid before she cut off another driver to make a left turn. From the back seat Daria remarked, "I guess she knows how to use those eyes, after all. Her methods are a little different, but I can't argue with the results."
"Wait until you've known her longer," Matt cautioned.
As they barreled down the expressway Daria yelled to Matt, "Does she always drive this way?" Sady had the radio up and the gas pedal down. Metallica's 'Whiskey in the Jar' blasted from the speakers and Sady sang along.
"No, sometimes it's worse," Matt replied, just before he and Daria screamed in terror when Sady dodged between two semi-trucks.
"I guess you both went to the same grammar school," Sady said in response to their comments. "It sounds like you graduated at the top of the class."
Matt's face was red when he demanded Sady pull off the next exit. "When's the last time you opened her up and blew out the carbon, Matt?" she asked.
"I don't need to, because you take care of it. You also manage to triple the tire wear. Now, pull off the next exit or I'm posting that picture of you with no front teeth on..." He swore again as Sady took an exit at the last second.
"What's your problem now?" she exclaimed with a huff, after she brought the truck to a stop.
"I said the next exit, not the exit we had nearly passed," he choked.
"You need to make that clear next time," she replied.
"There had better not be a next time," he warned as they changed places.
From the back seat Daria sounded ready to explode. "Are you two married, or what? I feel like I'm back on that flight." That earned her dirty looks from both the front seat passengers, making her chuckle.
"Morrow told you about our last job, didn't he?" Matt asked.
Daria shook her head, "No, but now I'll have to find out what it was."
"I wonder if it's legal to use noise blocking head-phones while driving?" Matt asked himself. When Sady opened her mouth he snapped, "That was a rhetorical question, Sandy-Sue!"
"You're not allowed to use that name in public," Sady told him. "Just because you can't take care of Desiree's needs is no reason to be nasty to me in front of company."
At the choking sound from the back seat, Matt yelled, "Desiree's the truck, Daria!"
"Matthew Meadows, you named your truck Desiree?" she asked in disbelief.
"Do you think Bertha's a better name?" Sady asked her.
"I need headphones," Matt muttered.