Once Upon a Spy (Humorous Cozy Mystery) (7 page)

Yvonne and Izzy quickly joined him, and together they jogged away from the crime scene without looking back. A car came swerving out of early morning traffic and screeched to a halt directly beside them. Matt grimaced when Yvonne balled her hands into fists, ready to fight again. She only relaxed when the door was thrown open and the face of Frank peered out at them. They quickly hopped into the car, and Frank expertly guided the car away from the curb and into traffic.

Matt eyed Yvonne from the corner of his eye. The woman was everything her file had promised her to be. She was the female Clint Eastwood, for Christ’s sakes. His head still hurt from the pounding he’d taken when she hurled the dumpster at Fatik, with him still inside it. Superhuman strength. There was no other way to describe it. He now realized he’d probably been too harsh on her. “Look, erm, Yvonne, I—”

“I’m sorry, Matt. I didn’t think. When that man started shooting at us—”

“You were shot at?”

“Yeah, Frank. Fatik lost his head and fired a clip at Yvonne and Izzy.”

“Izzy!” Frank quickly darted a look over his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Frank. Yvonne saved us all.” She sighed. “She’s my hero.”

“She’s right. You did save us, Yvonne. I’m sorry for busting your balls.”

“It’s fine, Matt. I just got so mad at that bike messenger I could have ripped him to pieces with my bare hands.”

“Well, you just about did. His dad won’t be too well pleased.”

“What will happen now?”

Matt rubbed one of several spots on his head where he’d knocked it against the unyielding metal of the dumpster. “I’m hoping Fatik’s dad will think some rival agency tried to take him and Grant out. We need Grant alive and well and back at the office, making contact with his supplier.”

“You’re tapping his phone, Agent Matt?” Izzy spoke reverently, like one watching a James Bond movie come to life.

“Yeah. Cell, home phone, office, you name it. And we’re keeping tabs on him 24/7. The man can’t take a dump without us knowing about it. Which is why it’s so infuriating we still don’t have a clue as to the identity of his supplier.” He closed his eyes, his head pounding and his back aching. He’d taken quite a tumble back there.

“Perhaps you’ll let us have a look at the data?” He opened his eyes to find Yvonne staring at him. It was clear from her contrite expression she was dying to make it up to him.

“Sure. Frank? The moment we get back, set up the conference room for Yvonne and Izzy, will you?” If they were as good as he thought they were, perhaps they could find out what they’d been missing all this time. He put a hand on her arm. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Just a little shaken, I guess.”

“Understandable. It’s not every day you get shot at.”

Izzy heaved a deep sigh. “Great way to start a new job.”

Frank once again strained his neck to glance at Izzy. “We don’t usually get shot at, you know. Only very rarely so, in fact. Isn’t that right, Matt?”

“Yeah. We’re more a cloak and dagger type of operation. Except for today and yesterday, I can count the number of times I’ve had to take out my gun on the fingers of one hand.”

He sank back in his seat. He’d only known Yvonne Assenheimer two days, and already he’d been kicked, shot and pummeled more times than in the entire year before. The woman clearly loved living on the edge. And the strange thing? He kinda liked the surge of adrenaline she’d brought to his life. He hadn’t lied. Their work was more analyst than field agent. Surveillance. Collecting data. Drawing conclusions. The real action was farmed out to a team of field agents. The tactical guys, who acted upon the intelligence they’d gathered. For some reason, he had the distinct impression that ASS would quickly prove to be too boring for Yvonne and Izzy. Oh, hell. He needed an aspirin. Or two.

Frank’s voice intruded upon his reverie. “Why weren’t you two at ASS? Did you tell them to meet you down at the alley, Matt?”

“I didn’t.”

“It’s the address we got. We thought the alley was the entrance to the ASS compound.”

Matt frowned. Weird. “Who gave you that address?”

“You did, remember?”

“I remember giving you a note yesterday. I’m pretty sure it held the right directions.”

“Yes, but then you sent us that email.”

Alarmed, Matt looked up. “Email? I never sent you any email.”

“You wrote that plans had changed, and to meet you downtown.”

She held out her smartphone, and quickly brought up her email app. He blankly stared at the email, then tapped the screen to check the sender’s information. His email address. His jaw set. “I didn’t send this.”

“Then who did?”

He exchanged a glance of alarm with Frank. “Someone who wanted the op to go south.”

“I think it’s a conspiracy.”

Izzy had it all worked out in her head. Someone—possibly this Fatik fellow, or perhaps this Grant guy—had infiltrated the ASS and was sabotaging the investigation from within.

Yvonne stared at her, wide-eyed, over a cup of coffee. “You think so?”

Izzy didn’t have to think long. “I know so.” She gestured at the small cafeteria Matt had led them to while he checked up on the email mystery. “This place? Has been compromised.”

“Compromised.” Yvonne shook her long blond tresses. “Listening to you, Iz, I’d swear you’ve been doing this spy stuff for ages.”

Izzy shrugged. “Spend enough time watching spy shows, and you pick up a couple of things.”

“That’s what I get from watching soap operas. I don’t know anything about espionage.”

“Just follow my lead, hon. I know all there is to know. Like…” She leaned closer, and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I just know this place is bugged! I bet there’s cameras and listening devices everywhere!” And to demonstrate the fact, she let her eyes roam the cafeteria, as if looking for hidden cameras and other bugging devices.

“You think so?” Yvonne stared down at her cup of coffee, as if half expecting a complete camera crew to appear.

“Every move we make, every word we say, it’s all being recorded for later analysis.”

“But why? Why do they want to know what we have to say?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Um. No?”

“We’re the femme fatales of the operation, V. And femme fatales always know.”

“Know? Know what?”

Izzy threw up her arms. “Everything! Very soon now, Hottie Matt will spill his most intimate secrets to you, and Hottie Frank will do the same with me. And before we know it—or even want it—we’ll know more about this place than anyone alive.” She jabbed a finger at the robust coffee machine. “And they know this. That’s why they’re following us.”

Yvonne squinted at the coffee machine. “I don’t know about Hottie Matt, but that Frank guy? He couldn’t keep his eyes off you all through the drive over here.”

“I know. I caught him watching me through the rear-view mirror.”

“He’s kinda cute, isn’t he?”

“I like him. If he would ask me out on a date, I wouldn’t think twice. What about you and Hottie Matt?”

Yvonne grimaced. “I don’t think he likes me very much. Men don’t like it when women kick their ass.”

“Some men do.”

“I don’t think he’s that type of man. And besides, I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m ugly.” She slumped a bit in her seat.

“Nonsense. I’ve seen him look at you. I’m sure he thinks you’re hot.”

“No, he doesn’t. He thinks I’m fat. All the guys think I’m fat. Because I am fat,” she added in a demonstration of irrefutable logic.

“How many times do I have to tell you, V. You’re not fat. You’re big-boned. If I had bones like you, you wouldn’t call me fat, would you?”

Yvonne shrugged. “I guess not.”

“Well, then? Hottie Matt likes you and Hottie Frank likes me,” she said adamantly. “We’re ASS femme fatales, that’s what we are. Now all we need to find out is who’s trying to sabotage us.”

“I think I’m the one trying to sabotage this operation.” Yvonne shook her head sadly. “I keep messing up. First I beat up Hottie Matt yesterday, and now I beat up that civil servant person and that creepy bike messenger?”

Izzy could see her friend was suffering, and she reached out a hand and gave her arm a tight squeeze. “You saved our lives, V. You didn’t mess up. If it hadn’t been for you, that creepy bike messenger guy would have shot us stone cold dead.”

“I don’t think so,” Yvonne countered. “Hottie Matt would have sprung up from his hiding place and kicked that creep’s butt. He was just biding his time until he was close enough.” She nodded. “Yep. Hottie Matt would have saved us if I hadn’t gone and screwed things up.”

Izzy patted her friend’s arm. “Don’t say such things. It makes me feel sad when you talk like that.”

“It makes
me
feel sad when I talk like that.”

“Then don’t,” Izzy suggested reasonably. “You know it’s not true. You saved our lives and that’s how it is. Nothing you say can make me change my mind about that. You’re a real hero, V, and I’m proud to be your friend.”

“Aww, that’s nice of you to say, Iz.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Aww.”

“It is.” She suddenly raised her voice. “Good thing we caught that spy, huh?”

“Huh?”

Izzy gestured at the coffee machine, which she felt was the most likely suspect to conceal a camera.

Yvonne quickly caught on. “Oh. Oh! Oh, yes. Good thing we caught that nasty spy!”

“We caught him all right. Red-handed!” She quickly rose to her feet, and moved over to the coffee machine, giving Yvonne a conspiratorial wink.

“We caught him with his hands down the cookie jar!” bellowed Yvonne, also extracting her bulk from the chair and toddling over to the coffee machine.

“I’m gonna give you a big clue now, V.”

“A big clue?”

“Yeah. The biggest clue. So you listen carefully now, huh?”

“Uh-huh.”

She quickly mouthed ‘one-two-three’, then both women suddenly pounced on the coffee machine.

“Gotcha!” screeched Izzy.

“Busted!” boomed Yvonne.

Izzy slapped the top of the machine, while Yvonne wriggled its snout. Nothing happened.

“It’s
inside
the machine!” yelled Izzy, her cheeks glowing red.

“Stand back!” growled Yvonne, and yanked a small cannon from her pocket.

Izzy squealed. “You go, girl!”

Yvonne raised the pea-shooter to eye level and took direct aim at the coffee machine. “Take this, you scum!”

“What’s going—”

Izzy turned to see who’d joined him just when Yvonne fired the first round. There was a sound like a minor gas explosion, and the next moment, the coffee maker erupted into a geyser of coffee spraying in every direction.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing!”

“Oh, hi, Hottie Matt, I mean Agent Matt. We’re just—Eeeek!”

Yvonne had taken aim, and directed another shot at the coffeemaker, then kept on squeezing the trigger, sending round after round tearing through the machine. Smoke funneled out of the appliance, and water sprayed all over as Yvonne blasted away, the gunshots thundering through the cafeteria.

Finally, the noise died away, and Yvonne lowered the gun tentatively, still squinting at the machine, daring it to retaliate.

“What the hell!” cried Matt, holding an empty mug in his hand.

“We caught the machine spying on us, Agent Matt,” squeaked Izzy, a little breathless.

“Spying? You caught the coffee machine spying on you?”

Izzy thought for a moment the man might explode. His face was all red and the veins on his temples were throbbing. But instead of spontaneously self-combusting, he stalked up to Yvonne and quickly wrested the gun from her fingers, then dropped it.

“Ouch!”

He stood blowing his fingers and glaring at Yvonne.

“You shouldn’t do that, Agent Matt,” commented Yvonne, pointing at the gun. “The barrel is hot from all that shooting.”

“I know that!” he growled. “Where did you get this gun?”

“Oh. Agent Frank gave it to me.”

“Frank—Frank gave this to you! Frank gave this to you!”

“He said it was standard issue.”

“He said—he said it was standard issue! He said it was standard issue!”

Izzy took out her own gun and showed it to Agent Matt. “I also got one, Agent Matt, but I haven’t used it yet.”

Matt changed his balance to favor his other leg, and nodded furiously. “You—you also got one! You also got one!”

Izzy thought it weird that Matt kept repeating his sentences. Perhaps he
had
suffered some form of brain damage from all those blows to the head? She decided not to voice that suspicion just then. The man seemed very upset for some reason.

Yvonne walked over to the coffee machine and gave it a once-over.

“Do you
see
any spies lurking inside the coffee maker?” yelled Matt.

“I’m not sure.” She gave the entire contraption a pull, and it fell to the floor with a crash. She eyed the tangle of wires and tubes suspiciously. “I’m no expert, though. I think we should have it looked at. By an expert.”

“By an—by an expert! You want to have the coffee machine looked at by an expert!”

“Yeah. Better ship it off to the lab. You do have a lab, don’t you, Matt?”

Izzy nodded vigorously. “And while you’re at it, Agent Matt, I think it would be best if you had this entire place swept for bugs. There must be hundreds of them.”

Yvonne pointed at her friend. “What she said.”

Matt babbled something unintelligible for a moment, then threw his hands in the air, and stalked out.

Izzy directed a critical eye at the man’s back. “He’s acting real strange, V. I’m not sure he didn’t sustain no brain damage.”

Yvonne eyed her blankly. “I’m not sure, either.”

“I think we’re heading for disaster.”

Matt shook his head dazedly. He’d still not recovered from the coffee machine incident.

“Are you sure the machine didn’t hold the alleged spy equipment?”

Matt slammed his hand down on his desk. “It’s a coffee machine, Frank! Just a regular, dumb coffee machine!”

Frank held up his hands. “Just asking, Matt. I mean, if Yvonne and Izzy think there’s a camera hidden inside it, there must be some truth to the matter.”