The Second Girl

“Okay, I think I got it.”


“Just don’t push the sixteen-year-old girl thing too much or he might get spooked. Lead him just enough to pique his interest and let him ask the questions.”

“Okay.”

I grab my notepad and write down what she needs to remember. I hand it to her.

“Justine, she’s grounded for skipping school. Lake Braddock. You’re in the eleventh grade. You’re calling from school and on break before class. You want to buy a fifty. She calls crack jellybeans.”

“Jellybeans.” Tamie chuckles. “That’s silly.”

“You want to meet him on the corner of Wisconsin and Water right under the bridge, four thirty. Get a description of the car he’ll be in.”

She sets the paper on her lap. “I got it, but what if he asks what kind of car I’m driving?”

“Tell him it’s a newer-model gold Volvo 40. Cops don’t use cars like that.”

“You got a thing for Volvos, sweetie.”

“They’re dependable. Now get into character, girl.”

“Have I ever let you down, Frankie?”

“Never, darling.”





Fifty-five



I have a few cell phones I use for undercover work. I have one that carries a Virginia area code. I set it to record a message greeting and then hand it to Tamie.

She reads from my notepad, “Hi, this is Tamie and I’m not here so please, please leave a message.”

She hands it back to me after it beeps.

“How was that?”

“Good for me. I’ll keep your message on here until I’m done with the investigation, so if it doesn’t work out today and if he calls back, I might have to get right back with you.”

“I’m around.”

“Are you ready for the call?”

“Yeah, hold on.” She takes a last drag from her cigarette and drops it out the window. “Okay.”

I enter his number and tap it to call, then hand her the cell. I can barely hear it ring, and after the third ring a faint, indistinct voice at the other end.

“Is this Playboy?” Tamie asks in a voice that would have me fooled if I closed my eyes.

I lean closer to Tamie to hear as best I can.

“Hi, Playboy. I’m a friend of Justine’s.”

I can’t hear what he says; then he asks, “Who she?”

“Justine, from Lake Braddock High School. In Burke. She said you hooked up a couple of times. She gave me your number.”

“Yeah…” The rest is inaudible, so I move back to a comfortable reclining position and light a cigarette.

“She can’t call you. She got—I mean, she’s grounded and her mom took her cell phone away for skipping school…I don’t know how long she’s grounded for…No…Okay, I’ll tell her to call you when she’s not grounded…Yes, she really, really wanted me to call you for a big favor…Well, we were hoping to get what she got from you before—you know, some jellybeans. I can even drive to DC to save you a trip. I just got my license.”

I give her a thumbs-up for the “license” part.

“I’m almost seventeen…No, I’m white, I mean Caucasian.”

She turns to me and shrugs, like she doesn’t understand why he said or asked what he just did. Maybe it’s something he can sense, ’cause I wouldn’t know the difference if I wasn’t looking at her.

“Blond hair. I’m short, but not too short. Justine said you’re cute…Seriously…Yes…Well, I’m in the eleventh grade…Uh-huh…I have to go to my next class soon, but I can leave here at three…What’s ‘five-oh’?” She shoots me a look and smiles because she knows what it really means. “Police?” she asks, and then chuckles, but it’s a little more refined than her usual deep-throated cackle. “I’m only sixteen. How can I be the police…? No, seriously. You’ll know when you see me…No, that’s so silly…Oh, I drive a gold Volvo. My mom bought a new car, so I got this one…Uh-huh…We’d really like to get a fifty…No, just a fifty. That’s all we can afford…Oh, I don’t know, Playboy.” She chuckles again. “For another fifty? Well, yeah, I guess we could work out some sort of trade. Like what are you talking about…? Uh-huh, I can wait till we get together, but I would like to get an extra fifty…Okay, we can talk more then…I don’t know where that is. I know Georgetown and was wondering if we could meet there…You know where Wisconsin ends, just under the bridge by the water…? Yes…I go shopping there sometimes with friends, so I know that part of DC…It has to be around four thirty because I have to get home by dinner or I’ll get grounded too…Yes, I promise, Playboy…Okay…Okay…I’ll see you at four thirty…Oh, wait. What kind of car do you drive, so I can look out for you…? Oh, I like Lexuses, and black is my favorite color…Okay, I’ll be standing on the corner right under the bridge…Okay, bye-bye.”

She disconnects and hands the cell back to me. I check it to make sure it is disconnected and then put it in the center console compartment.

“He’ll be driving a black Lexus?” I ask.

David Swinson's books