Once Upon a Spy (Humorous Cozy Mystery) (11 page)

Izzy clapped her hands together in glee. “Ooh! I love pot roast!”

Yvonne turned to the terrace to check the back door to the Grant place. A sliding glass contraption, she gave it a shove. Locked, of course.

“Stand back!”

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw something big being hurled in her direction, and she could just dive out of the way before it hit the door, and exploded with a loud crash. She panted, aghast. “Did you just throw a flower pot at me?”

“Not at you. At the door!” Izzy pumped her fist in the air, and that’s when the alarm started blaring. Her face fell. “Uh-oh.”

For a second, they stood frozen to the spot, then Yvonne stuck her hand in the hole Izzy had wrought, opened the door from the inside, and they were in.

Yvonne pointed to the kitchen. “You get the kitchen garbage! I’ll check for the big one!”

A professional sanitation worker, she knew just where Oswin Grant stashed his garbage. A small room to the side of the kitchen held both a cat litter box and a green container. She slammed open the cover, and hauled out a big black plastic bag. Easily lifting it with one hand, she darted a quick look around. And that’s when her eye fell on the box. At first, she thought it was an internet modem, but a second look told her it was too big for that. It was a black box, about ten inches in diameter, with LED lights rapidly flickering across its surface. Opening the garbage bag, she picked up the box, which oddly enough wasn’t connected to a power outlet, and dunked it in the bag with the rest. Then she swung the bag over her shoulder and hauled ass.

Five minutes later, the two friends were casually walking down the sidewalk when two police vehicles came tearing down the street.

Phew.

Just in time.

As they were hurrying away from the scene of the crime, a garden gnome fell from Izzy’s grasp. Darting nervous looks around, she quickly scooped it up.

“You took that silly thing?”

Izzy grinned. “The guy’s got plenty so I thought I’d relieve him of one.” She gestured at Yvonne’s hefty bag. “What did you get?”

“I have… a weird black box with little flashy lights.”

“Oh, goody. What does it do?”

“I have no idea.”

Izzy’s face displayed the expression she often got when trying to figure out one of her crossword puzzles. “Perhaps it’s a disco ball!”

“It’s not a ball, Iz. It’s square.”

“Well. A disco square, then.”

“It was in the storage room.”

A thought wrinkle appeared on Izzy’s brow. “Mh. Christmas decorations? Cat toy? Clock radio?”

This reminded Yvonne of something. “You know? I wonder if our Grant is even home after what happened this morning. He’s probably in the hospital right now, being nursed back to health.”

“You think so?”

“Which means…” Yvonne’s head spun as she applied her brain power to its full capacity. “Which means it couldn’t have been Grant who fired that missile at Matt.”

“If he really
is
in the hospital. He didn’t look all that injured to me. Probably just a minor bump on the head.”

They’d arrived at the corner, wondering where to go from there. They’d arrived by taxi, but from where they stood, no taxis were available.

Izzy dunked her bag to the pavement. “Perhaps we should walk?”

“Five miles with this silly-ass bag? No, thank you very much. Let’s hail a garbage truck instead.”

Izzy’s face cleared when her gaze followed her friend’s. As luck would have it, a garbage truck stood idling on the corner. Quickly making their way over, Yvonne was happy to find a familiar face staring back at her from behind the wheel.

“Cornelius!”

Her big brother was surprised to see her, that much was clear. “V! Iz! What are you two doing out here. This ain’t anywhere near your sector.” His eyes flicked over the hefty garbage bag Yvonne was still hoisting. “And why are you carrying that junk around?

“It’s a long story. Can we hitch a ride?”

“Sure. Hop in. Shift is over anyway.” He gestured to a bar. “Harlan had to take a dump. He’ll be right back, and then we’re out of here.”

Yvonne and Izzy climbed into the cabin, and dumped Oswin Grant’s garbage behind the seats.

“Hey, Cornelius,” breathed Izzy, panting a little from the exertion. “You’re looking great. Been working out?”

Yvonne’s brother grinned. “Yeah, sure. Just like you, huh? Still behind the wheel, Iz? No interest in switching places with V?”

Izzy exchanged a quick glance with Yvonne, who shook her head imperceptibly. She really wasn’t ready to spill the beans about their new employment to her family yet.

“Aww, look at me, Cornelius.” Izzy flexed her non-existent biceps. “I’m skin and bones. I can’t even lift a brick let alone a garbage bag.”

“You need to work out more, Iz. And eat properly. When was the last time you had a decent meal?”

“I’m about to have one.”

“I invited her over for pot roast,” explained Yvonne.

Cornelius nodded in agreement. “You should eat at our place every day, Iz. We’ll make a sanitation worker out of you yet.”

“Gee, thanks, Cornelius,” Izzy said uncertainly, and Yvonne rolled her eyes. Sooner or later, she’d have to come clean. And preferably before Pop found out from DeLantern himself.

A short ride later, Cornelius dropped them off at the Assenheimer place, before returning to the garage to punch out and return the truck. Both women scooted upstairs before anyone saw them hauling garbage into the house instead of out, and when Yvonne finally slammed the door to her room shut, they both collapsed on the bed with a sigh of relief.

Izzy tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Phew. This intelligence work is harder than I thought. All this lying to people? I’m not used to it, V!”

“Same here. I’m gonna tell them tonight, Iz, I swear. I just can’t stand to lie to my family.”

“I haven’t told mine either. Dad will kill me when he finds out I left a steady job to become a spy. I don’t think he even likes spies.”

“If you want, I’ll tell him it’s all my fault. That I convinced you to quit your job and go on this crazy adventure with me.”

“No, V. I need to own up to my mistakes. I’ll tell him.” Then her face cleared. “Ooh! You know what! Why don’t I tell your folks, and you tell mine! That way, they can’t be mad! I’ll tell your dad I convinced you, and you tell mine you convinced me. It’ll soften the blow.”

“Great idea, Iz. Better wait until after dinner, though. Pop’s always in a good mood when he just stuffed his face with pot roast.” She held up her hand, and Izzy slapped it, high five style.

In a better mood now, Yvonne opened the biggest garbage bag, and took out the mysterious black box. The little green and red lights were still dancing across its smooth surface. She turned it over in her hands, wondering what the heck this thing could be.

Izzy stared at it, mesmerized. “Doesn’t look like a disco square.”

“I think we need to take it back to ASS. They’ll know what to look for.” She dumped the box on the bed, and peered into the garbage bag while Izzy started rifling through hers. There wasn’t much of interest, and when finally they were both through, the floor of Yvonne’s room was littered with candy wrappers, used tissues, potato peels, coffee filters and the other paraphernalia of a common variety garbage bag.

Izzy sighed, flicking away a Q-tip. “Nothing, V. Just… garbage.”

“Same here,” grunted Yvonne, smoothing out a crumpled up grocery list, then balling it up again. Nothing of interest whatsoever.

Just then, the black box started emitting a loud piercing whine, and both women looked up in surprise. They were seated cross-legged on the floor, amid Oswin Grant’s disposed waste, and blinked at the interruption.

“The disco thing is singing,” commented Izzy.

Simultaneously, the garden gnome Izzy had removed from Grant’s garden suddenly started emitting a purplish glow.

Izzy slapped her hand before her mouth. “The leprechaun! It’s alive!”

As the whine grew louder in volume, the gnome lit up like a Christmas tree, its light changing hue from purple to pink to a bright white. And not only was it glowing, it now rose from the floor, hovering a foot above it and slowly started spinning in midair. As it spun faster and faster, there was a noticeable shimmer, and before long, the shape of the gnome was but a blur.

Both women scrabbled back, away from the spinning gnome, until they reached the wall.

An image started to emerge, projected within the white mist.

“It’s a map!” cried Izzy.

She was right. A map materialized where the gnome had been. A map of the United States. And at the heart of the map, a red dot started blinking. Yvonne squinted against the bright light. Like a GPS tracker, that red dot… was pointing to a location. She squinted to make out what it was pointing at. Then she realized it looked alarmingly like the Assenheimer home!

“It
is
a disco ball!” cried Izzy, mesmerized.

“Weird ass disco ball if you ask me.”

“I kinda like it.” Her friend darted a quick look up at the ceiling. “You think something’s going to drop in on us? Oh! Oh!” She clapped her hands. “Perhaps Santa Claus!”

“It’s the middle of October, Iz. Santa’s probably fast asleep, working his strength up for the holiday season.” Izzy’s words had struck a chord, though. She remembered the missile that had almost blown Matt to bits that afternoon. What if this thing was some sort of advanced weapons system? With the box and the gnomes functioning as its guidance tracker? This could only mean…

The thought spurred her to action. Getting up, she dove for the box, and took a firm hold on it. No buttons. No nothing. She rattled it in frustration.

“How to switch if off!”

Izzy sat gazing at her with big eyes. “Why would you want to switch it off?”

“If I’m not mistaken, this thing is about to blow us to bits!”

“Oh?” Izzy frowned, processing this bit of information. Then it seemed to dawn on her, and her face fell. “Oh! You mean it won’t be Santa Claus coming to pay us a visit but one of those nasty rockets?”

“That’s exactly what I mean!”

Izzy walked over to the spinning gnome, still displaying the US map, the red dot still blinking steadily, warning them of impending doom. She carefully poked a finger at the thing, but then quickly retreated it. “Ouch! It stings!”

Yvonne quickly yanked the comforter from her bed, and threw it over the hovering gnome. The comforter was violently ripped to shreds on impact, an explosion of feathers descending upon the room like a blanket of snow. Finally, Yvonne just took the box in her throwing hand, and with all the force of her arm, which was considerable, launched the mysterious box at the gnome. The moment the two objects collided, there was a loud explosion, and both women hit the floor, covering their heads with their arms.

When Yvonne looked up, she saw that the gnome was still spinning, same as before, and the black box was now firmly embedded in the wall over her bed, taking out the face of Robbie Williams at the heart of her old Take That poster. She quickly scooted up on the bed and checked the box. Apart from being stuck inside the wall, it was completely unscathed. There was not a scratch or a blemish on the black metal.

“That thing must be made of some sort of special material.”

In spite of herself, she had to admire the man who’d made this thing. Pretty sturdy stuff.

She didn’t have time to go into all that, for the box was throwing its whine into a higher pitch.

“V! Look!”

Yvonne whirled round, and saw that the blinking red light was pulsating faster and faster. She gulped. “I think we need to get out of here, Iz! This thing’s gonna hit us!”

They raced for the door, and thundered down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Mom! Mom! Where are you?”

Storming into the kitchen, Yvonne saw that it was empty. Then she remembered. Drawing lessons. Mom wouldn’t be home for another hour, and neither would the rest of the Assenheimer clan.

Izzy waved her hands about. “Let’s skedaddle, V!”

“Good idea.” She darted a quick look around the kitchen and living room—the portraits of her family and the old couch she’d spent so many hours on—soon this would all be gone. Oh, heck. She spurted over to the TV, and grabbed a handful of picture frames, then followed Izzy out the back door.

They’d just cleared the house, when a now familiar whine sounded, and, looking up, Yvonne saw a big, fat missile rocketing in.

“Down!”

Once again, both women hit the deck, and the next moment, a roaring explosion shook the earth, a blast of heat scorching the hair on Yvonne’s arms and washing over her. Then, silence returned. Looking up, the first thing she became aware of, was that the chicken coop at the back of the garden was no longer there. Instead, a deep crater had been burrowed into the ground. Darting a look over her shoulder, she saw that the house was still there, though.

“They missed!” Izzy, raising herself up on her knees, pumped the air with her fists. “They missed, V! We’re still here!”

Yvonne stared out at the yard. “They killed Betty and Bessy.”

“Huh? Who?”

“Betty and Bessy. Our chickens. I-I-I think they’re dead.” Judging from the smoking crater, that was probably a safe assumption. She scrambled to her feet and tottered to the back of the yard, then stared down into the hole. About ten feet deep and three feet wide, the crater stared back at her. She raised her fists in the air. “Noooo!”

She’d liked those chickens. Each and every morning before going to work, she’d come out here to feed them. In return, they invariably rewarded her with a couple of freshly laid eggs.

Izzy, who’d joined her, patted her back consolingly. “At least they didn’t suffer. I bet they never knew what hit them.”

Yvonne wiped away a tear. “You think so?”

“Definitely. Wherever Betty and Bessy are? They’re in a better place now.”

Yvonne slumped her shoulders. “We shouldn’t have brought that black box here, Iz. It probably took revenge.”

“I think we better hand it over to Matt. He’ll know what to do.”

“Right.” Still stunned by grief over her beloved Betty and Bessy, Yvonne reached into her pocket and took out her phone.