CHAPTER SIX

 

 

“Romi?” My mother said on the phone, bright and early on Friday morning. “How’s it going, Kiddo?”

“Great!” I said as I packed my gun, silencer and black towels in a backpack. Black towels don’t show blood. They’re very, very hard to find, but worth it.

“I’m coming to the Opening tomorrow! I was thinking Liv and I could tour your apartment while we’re there.”

I froze, looking at all the tactical gear and weapons that covered the kitchen table. Black gloves, shirts and cargo pants (not practical for summer in the Midwest) were mixed in with guns, cartridges and large hunting knives.

I wasn’t sure about those, but Woody had insisted and they did look scary. I liked knives. When Mom was training me to be a real Bombay assassin, she gave me extra lessons on knife work. I must’ve practiced hiding them on my person, slashing and even throwing them until I fell into bed every night. That was another reason why Mom couldn’t sell any of my old dolls at the garage sale. They were mutilated to the point where anyone looking at them would probably call the police.

“Um, the place is kind of a mess since we’ve been focusing on the Grand Opening. How about we have you over for dinner Monday night?”

I turned my focus back to the task at hand. A bottle of chloroform and a clean, white rag went in next.

“…which is why I have to ask,” Mom was talking and I realized I’d missed part of it. “Do you know what you’re doing? Is this something you can handle?”

For a split second, I thought she was talking about the assignment and it made me a little sad that she couldn’t be part of this. Bombay parents were always with you for your first five assignments, to help, troubleshoot, and plug the Vic if something went wrong.

Mom couldn’t be part of this, because she didn’t know. And if we wanted to continue down this path, our parents couldn’t ever know.

“Of course!” I replied. “Monty and Jack are giving us some great advice, and Woody’s done a wonderful job. Sofia has set up some displays of her work and her knitting club is going to be there. It will be easy.”

“That’s good! See you tomorrow then!” She said as she hung up.

I sunk down into a chair. What would our parents think if they found out we were carrying on the tradition they got rid of…for us? I didn’t know about the others, but Gin Bombay wouldn’t like it one bit. She’d told me for years how happy she was that I wouldn’t be forced to become an assassin in the family business.

What did I think, exactly? I’d been so wrapped up in getting all of this off the ground, I hadn’t really had time to think about it. I’d killed a guy in a gas station bathroom, and tomorrow I was going to kidnap a man and hand him over to some unknown entity in a motel. My heart beat faster just thinking about it. It was very exciting.

Alta plopped down in a chair across the table. She had a notebook. It was the notebook. The one she took notes in for her book.

“So…I’ve decided that Lodewyk isn’t a cop. He’s an insurance adjuster who solves crimes in his spare time.”

I tried desperately to keep a straight face.

“And I’ve decided that he really is going to collect teeth. And he’s going to have a cockatoo that goes with him on his shoulder and shouts out clues. What do you think?”

That it’s insane. Ridiculous. That the teeth thing was gross.

“I love the idea about the cockatoo.”

And I kind of did. Telling Alta what I really thought wasn’t a good idea. That would have to come from any publisher she submitted to. I’d be there, to wipe her tears and give her donuts.

She clapped her hands together with glee. “Yay! Listen to this!” She opened her notebook and started to read.

“The cops parted like the Red Sea as Lodewyck, their Moses, walked up to the scene of the crime. ‘Something’s in his hand! Something’s in his hand!’ The cockatoo crowed. ‘Thanks Romi,’ Lodewyck acknowledged the bird’s uncanny ability to spot a clue…”

“Wait,” I held my hands up. “Romi? You named the bird after me?”

She nodded. “You are the cockatoo! Isn’t that great?”

I didn’t know what to say - which Alta took as encouragement to keep reading.

“Lodewyck knelt next to the body and pried open the fingers of the clenched palm.”

“He can’t do that,” I said before I could stop myself. “He can’t just walk up to a crime scene with a bird on his shoulder and tamper with the body.”

Alta ignored me. “The Medical Examiner arrived on the scene. A sultry blond wearing stiletto heels and a very tight minidress…”

“Why is she dressed like that? Was she at a party or something?”

My cousin looked exasperated. “Stop interrupting me!”

Alta read with a smoky voice, “’What do you have there, Lode?’ she asked, biting her luscious red lips. ‘It’s a popsicle stick, Babe,’ he held out his hand to show her the red-stained stick. The woman gasped in horror, ‘Is that blood?’”

I threw my arms up, “Okay, I have to say something. She’s dressed like a hooker for work and he calls her Babe? You’re really setting women back fifty years.”

“It’s called sexual tension,” Alta rolled her eyes. “I need it to add another layer to the story.”

“And why would she be horrified at the sight of blood, and why wouldn’t she recognize blood anyway? She’s a Medical Examiner! Why don’t you go back to that cozy mystery you were writing?”

“Because those are just fluff. If I’m going to be a serious author, I need to write serious books.” She sniffed.

“I don’t know about this…” I started.

She waved me off. “It’s just a rough draft.” Alta bounced back up to her room, leaving me with my jaw on the floor.

“Was that Alta’s book?” Jackson asked. He pulled up the chair next to me and sat down.

I nodded. “Where did you come from?” All these Bombays sneaking up on you like a ghost was a bit unnerving.

“I was in the kitchen. Heard the whole thing. Wow.”

“Right? Can you believe what she wrote?”

“Amazing stuff! Louis told me about it and I can’t wait to read it. I especially like that the hero collects teeth. Quirky!”

Maybe my cousins were certifiably insane. Working with someone who’s judgement I considered dicey was making me rethink this enterprise. And the cockatoo? I didn’t even get to be the sultry Medical Examiner?

A bag landed on the table beside me and I jumped. Louis gave me a gap-toothed grin.

“Didn’t hear me behind you?”

I scowled. “I’m going to put bells on each and every one of you.” I wondered if I could shoot my roommates with a tranquilizer gun and tag them in the ear so I’d know where they were at all times.

 

 

 

 

 

“I made you these,” Sofia cornered me. It was Saturday, twenty minutes into the Grand Opening and the KNIT AND RUN was packed to capacity.

“Ski masks?” I asked.

They were each a different color. The one on top was red and had horns and a face like a demon. It was cool. The second mask was white, and looked like an old man with a long beard. Maybe it was God. Or Zeus. Or just an old man with a long beard.

“These are amazing!” I said as I looked at the third, fourth and fifth masks – all animals with lots of detail. “How long did it take you to do these?”

“Two nights. No big.”

No big? It would take me a month to make just one of these.

“The next one is yours,” She gave me a wicked grin.

I handed her the other five and that’s when I saw it.

“It’s a cockatoo…” I mumbled. The mask was bright yellow with a pouf of feathers on top and a beak where the mouth should be.

“Yeah! Alta told me you’re a bird in her book.” Sofia laughed and walked away.

I didn’t get to be the demon?

“What is that?” Alta said behind me.

“Masks. Sofia made them for tonight.”

Alta giggled as she went through them. “These are great! When we’re done, I think we should display them here in the store.”

I disagreed. “I don’t think we should use them. Too identifiable. And the patterns are probably rare. I think we should go with simple, black ski masks.”

“Romi! Alta!” A woman called behind us. We turned around.

“Missi?” I gasped at the fit, middle-aged woman with short, blond hair.

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world!” Missi smiled as she hugged us both. Missi lived halfway around the world on the family’s private island and was the twins’ mother. What was she doing here? It was difficult enough having our parents snooping around. Another Bombay was unwelcome news.

My mouth instantly went dry as the Sahara. “Did Monty and Jack know you were coming?” I choked out. If they knew and didn’t tell us, I was going to kill them.

“No. I thought I’d surprise the boys. This,” She waved her arms around her. “Is simply amazing! I’m insanely jealous.”

Oh, right. Missi was a knitter. I’d forgotten. In the back of my mind, something told me there was still another knitter in the family, but I couldn’t remember who it was.

“I’ve been working on a newer, more efficient version of a spinning wheel,” She started. “It’s collapsible to fit in your purse, and sturdy enough that an elephant can stand on it. When I’m done, can I try it out on Sofia’s knitting club?”

“Of course,” I mumbled. Then I pictured Missi coaxing an elephant to stand on a spinning wheel. I had no doubt in my mind that she’d done just that when testing it.

“And I’ve been working on a way to turn feathers into yarn. It takes a really long time to get enough feathers for a skein.” She looked off into space, thinking. Missi’s insanely brilliant mind tended to wander. “I was thinking of parakeet feathers, but since I don’t want to kill them for the feathers and it takes a while for them to molt even a few, that might not be doable.”

I’d heard of yarn from every kind of animal hair you could think of, but feathers were new. Even if you went with a big bird, like a peacock or ostrich, it could take forever.

An idea popped into my head. “Have you ever thought of making silk from poisonous plants? I mean, there’s seaweed silk, so you know it can be done. Maybe something from belladonna or lily of the valley?”

“Yes!” Missi shrieked, turning everyone’s attention our way. She pulled out her phone and spoke into it. “Experiment with deadly plants for yarn.”

Now that was something I could get behind. Imagine making deadly socks or lethal cardigans? How cool would that be?

“Hey!” A heavily tattooed and bearded, bald man in a snug, black t-shirt came over and hugged Missi.

“Cy?” Alta sounded shocked. Or horrified. I wasn’t sure. This was turning into a bizarre family reunion.

Coney Island Bombay was here? What was happening? And why was he in his carney disguise? He wasn’t working carnivals again, was he?

“Ladies!” He hugged and kissed each of us on the cheek. He held up a paper bag full of yarn in every color under the sun. “I’ve just spent two hundred dollars here. I told Woody to keep the goody bag though. I don’t need it and Ronnie isn’t into that kind of stuff.” Ronnie, or Veronica, was Cy’s amazing wife. I looked around, but didn’t see her or their son, Theodore.

“Are you working?” Missi asked as she pointed at his beard.

Cy shook his head. “Nah. I just miss it sometimes. Ronnie doesn’t like it, so I only wear it when I travel without her. I’ve got the RV parked a few blocks over.”

“Did you hear about the garage sale?” Alta piped up. She looked nervous and seemed anxious to distract these two.

Missi nodded. “I wish I’d known about it. I’ve got a lot of junk I could get rid of, from exploding rings to high heels that turn into skis.” She looked off in the distance. “Only, you could only use the exploding rings once. I’d have to write up a discalaimer…”

“Maybe we can talk them into doing it again at the end of the summer?” Cy asked. “I’ve got a Ferris wheel I’d love to unload.”

Neither one of them seemed to think it was strange to talk about these things in the middle of a packed yarn shop. Nobody around us seemed to notice, even though Cy got quite a few glances from the women around him. He was a handsome guy, even if he was old and dressed like a scary biker.

“Did you see that felted basket by the bulky yarns?” Missy pointed off to our right.

“Do you think they have the pattern?” Cy asked.

Alta and I watched as the two walked away.

“We’re in trouble,” I croaked as Alta nodded.

Missi was a scientific genius and Cy, or Coney Island, had a Ph.D. in philosophy from one of the ivy league schools. Both were very smart. Both would see right through us if they got too close.

Alta and I raced upstairs to tell the others of this latest development.

“Cy’s here? And Mom?” Monty groaned and Jackson dropped his forehead to the table. “Damn.”

“I forgot Cy knits,” Jackson said, still face down on the table. “When Mom and Lex got married, he made her this cool, felted bag.”

Louis even looked pale. “Well, forget about our special biometric locks now. If anyone could hack them, it’d be Missi. She taught me everything I know.”

The twins nodded. Them too.

“Do you think G2 knows about this?” Alta asked.

“Well if they don’t, they will. I have no doubt Mom will visit Dela.” Monty looked for support from his face-down brother, who said nothing.

“So, what do we do?” I asked.

A knock came from the door. “Guys?” Mom shouted from the other side. “We want to see the new place!”

The table was still covered with gear and I was pretty sure everyone had tactical clothing laid out on their bed, which, in hindsight now, seemed like a bad idea. Dammit. Mom was breaking my privacy rule by coming up today. I’d told her Monday, which she’d apparently interpreted as come over any day or time you want to.

Louis ran his fingers over his iPad and via the security camera we could see and hear Mom, Liv, Dak, Missi and Cy were crowded into the little hallway outside our door.

“Maybe they’re still in the shop,” Missi suggested as she scrutinized the door. “This lock is pretty sophisticated, but I’m sure I can hack it.”

This was beyond intrusive! We weren’t children anymore! What made them think they could just bust in on their adult kids like that? We were going to have to set boundaries with our parents. And possibly a moat…or minefield.

“We can just take a peek around. We don’t have to bother them.” Liv nodded.

Oh no.

I’d like to bet that none of us has ever moved that fast. Alta and I scooped up everything on the table and shoved it into the oven, while the guys ran upstairs to toss any black clothing or gear into our closets, because of course, our mothers would check out our rooms.

The backpack and collection of weapons barely fit as we shoved it all hard into the stove. Finally, with a grinding, crunching sound, we got it closed, just as the boys ran back downstairs to join us and Mom appeared at the top of the stairs.

“They are here!” She shouted over her shoulder to the others. “Sorry to intrude! We didn’t want to bother you…”

“Mom,” I said through clenched teeth. “You were supposed to come over Monday.”

She ignored me as the others joined her and all five of the adult Bombays stared, wide-eyed at our loft.

“This is incredible!” Liv whispered and the five split up, wandering around and poking into closets and drawers.

“Sorry the house is such a mess,” Louis said as he got between his dad and the desk.

Jackson and Monty offered to give them a tour and as they turned their backs on us, he pointed at something on the floor, under the table. I snatched it up. A magazine for one of the nine-millimeter pistols. As our parents followed the twins upstairs, I the cupboard tossed it in the garbage, hoping I’d remember to fish it out later.

My cell buzzed just as I closed the cupboard door. It was Monty, somehow texting me without anyone noticing.

“They’re looking in our closets!” I hissed to Alta. “How rude!”

She stared at the stairs. “They’re our parents. To them we’re still kids. They think they have a right to do that.”

“Well, has it occurred to you that they’ll look in the oven too?” I whispered.

“This is so great!” Dak appeared at the top of the stairs. “You guys did an amazing job.” He pulled out his cell and ran his fingers over the surface. “I’m going to get Paris here. He should see this.”

My cousins and I exchanged glances. Well, we already had five. One more couldn’t make things worse.

Dak frowned. “I guess he’s out of town. Huh. He didn’t tell me that.” He looked disappointed.

“Seriously, Romi!” Liv walked down the stairs. “How did you find this place?”

I wasn’t sure what to say. Maybe this was a question that really didn’t need answering, so I just shrugged. And maybe, now that the tour was done, they’d leave.

“The furniture came with this place?” Mom said as she sat down on the sofa. Her brother and cousins followed suit. They had no intention of going anywhere anytime soon.

What happened? How did they get past Sofia? She’d promised to keep the adults distracted.

“Hey guys!” Woody’s voice came from the front door. “I just got a message from…”

He topped the stairs and saw the grown-ups lounging in the living room and turned a gray shade of pale.

“What’s the message?” Liv asked.

Woody’s eyes were wide. “Oh, um, it’s nothing. The local paper is going to do a story on us.”

He was totally lying. I knew that. I just hoped our parents wouldn’t.

“Mom,” I said as I turned toward her. It was time to play the moody young adult card. “You should’ve called or something. We’re swamped downstairs. We’ll have you over Monday night for dinner, but you have to go.”

Mom nodded and the others seemed to agree as they stood up.

“I’ve got a great idea!” Dak snapped his fingers. “Let’s take the kids out to dinner tonight to celebrate!”

“That’s not necessary,” Louis began.

“Yes!” Mom took the idea and ran with it. “I’ll make reservations for that new Italian place everyone’s talking about. Say, six-thirty?”

Our parents all agreed without even asking us.

“That’s great,” I started. “But we’ll be beat tonight when the shop closes. Another time would be better.”

But the adults didn’t hear me. They were too busy discussing this plan. Liv even called to make reservations. We didn’t have a say in any of this. We weren’t kids anymore! I’d have to talk to Mom about it later. This intrusion wasn’t going to fly.

As the adults headed down the stairs we heard them congratulating themselves on this idea of taking us out. When the door finally closed, I lost it.

“They can’t do this!” I fumed. “We’re adults now! We have lives! They can’t just pick the locks and come in here unannounced and they can’t make dinner plans without asking us first!

Woody looked a little green. “It’s worse than that. The message wasn’t from the paper. It was from G2. Vic will be hitting town tonight. At seven.”