Page 5 of Once Upon A Sale

True to herself, Opie gives us about twenty minutes of light, fun, banter before she reaches under her pool chair and pulls out her laptop.

“Jeez, Opie, are we boring you already?” Tabby rolls her head over to look at me since she’s lying between us like the filling of a best-friend sandwich. “Guess it’s just you and me, now, huh?”

The quick lift and release of my shoulders is my only answer. We both know Opie can’t be offline for long. She craves the information and updates from the multitude of pies where she’s buried her fingers. It’s impossible to blame her for it since she’s the reason we find our targets as quickly and efficiently as we do—mostly.

“I can still partake in the conversation, you know. I’m totally capable of multitasking.” To emphasize said competence, she raises her glass to her lips and takes a huge gulp then grins like a loon. “See? Drinking and sleuthing.Fácil!”

“I don’t know about easy, but it is practical, I’ll give you that.” Taking my own sip from my glass, I rest my head on the back of the chair and run last night’s events through my mind, searching out any mistakes I might have made, anything I could have done differently or better. Of course, there’s always room for improvement, but save for the zoning out on that rooftop, my mission went off without a hitch.

“Holy shit! Oh my God!” Sitting up in unison, both Tabby and I turn to Opie as she scrambles up into a sideways sitting position, her feet flat on the ground, her fingers flying across her keyboard.

“What? What’s going on?” There’s no telling if she’s ohmygodding in an excited or a terrified way since her entire focus is directly and solely targeted at the screen. As I burst out my question, my attention turns to Tabby, who has frozen on the chair and is now staring at the shimmering pool water reflecting the stubborn rays of the sun.

The silent freak out I’m witnessing is only making me panic a little more, which is why I stand, abrupt and determined,making my way to Opie and speaking directly into her ear. “Tabs is losing her fucking mind, Opie. Speak.”

In a nanosecond, our techy girl’s fingers stop their rampant attack on the keys and her face lifts from the screen. The only reason I relax just a fraction is the tiny curl at the corners of her lips giving me hope and reassurance. If we were found out or about to get a bullet in the forehead, she’d be corralling us inside so we could get the fuck out of here.

“I got a ping on our number three.” This time we all freeze at Opie’s words, our eyes landing on her laptop as if we could even begin to understand the codes and weird language she uses on there.

“Are you sure?” I’m the first to break the heavy silence because getting my hopes up like this is a sure way to piss me off if we’re wrong about this.

“Fuck yeah. Remember how we narrowed him down to four aliases? We had a few more, but these four were sure-sure. Like, cement-sure.” I frown.

“Cement can crack, Opie. I need titanium-sure. Anything else could expose us.” Placing my drink down on the small table, I look up to the sky, forcing myself not to get excited about this until it’s a one hundred percent thing happening. The screen that surrounds the entire pool area is like a dark dome above us, protecting us from the outside world. Mosquitoes, of course, but also snakes and any other form of reptiles attracted to the water. We may have a lot of them in Florida, but only four are venomous, meaning the odds are in our favor. Still, I’m not taking any fucking chances, which is why we hired a company to keep our property clean and inhospitable so nothing slithery can hide and scare the fuck out of us. That includes pest control to eliminate their favorite food.

“Look, right here.” Opie points to her screen at what looks to be an invitation to some kind of…gala?

“What am I looking at?” Squinting my eyes as I lean in and bring a hand to my forehead to protect my view from the sun, all I see is the name James Smith. “Oh, shit!”

“Ah, you see it too, yeah?” Opie’s grin is fucking brighter than the Florida sun, and that’s saying something, considering we’re in the “Sunshine State.”

“What is it?” Tabby has joined us, peering over my shoulder and leaning in. It’s when she gasps that I know she’s seen it.

“James fucking Smith. Literally the most common name in the United States, which means finding this fucker is a mammoth project, but fuck you!” Her voice grows louder and louder until she’s double middle-fingering the screen. “My source, who owes me a favor and a couple of orgasms, is temping at a private airfield in Fort Lauderdale. Their clients are all dangerous as fuck. It’s super hush hush, like literally lose-your-life kind of bad if they find out he’s leaked any information.” Opie is Miami born and bred and her use of the wordliterallyused to make my eyes twitch. Not sure when it became normal and acceptable but it only makes me flinch when she inserts it more than once in a single breath. Like now, when she’s so excited I’m afraid she’ll pee all of her gin right onto my pool deck.

“And he risked it for you?” I hate coincidences but I can’t deny this feels good and right and fuckingKarmabulous.

“It’s my magical pussy, it makes men, and occasionally women, do crazy shit for just a taste.” She shrugs like she’s just told us that today is Monday and Tuesday’s on its way.

“Okay, so where’s he headed and how do we know it’s the right James Smith?” Fucking cunt. I wish I knew his real name so I could curse it until he falls dead in the most horrendous way.

“Detroit. He’s there for approximately eight hours before making the return flight. My friend said that he’s sure he’s seen this guy’s image on a flight manifest before, but it was under a different name. Michael Miller.”

“That’s one of the aliases! Holy shit on a stick. It has to be him.” Tabby perks up, almost spilling her drink in the process.

I’ve got a million questions on the tip of my tongue but Opie holds up her finger to stop me as she continues speaking, a smirk on her face because she knows me so well.

“No, we can’t get him on or around the plane or flight field. The security is immense and it’s too dangerous. As for why he’s going to Detroit, I don’t know. But…I’ve been researching for hours and I do know that there is this auction thing happening during the time he’s going to be there. There are no specifics for exact date or location and it’s a long shot, a very fucking long shot, but it’s a lead.” She smiles as though she’s just solved world hunger.

“So I need to go and buy some antiques? Or sell some? Whatever I have to do, I need to get in there.” Excitement courses through my veins at the thought of unaliving another one of these trafficking fuckers.

“Oh, babe. No. It’s not that kind of auction. This one is for people.” Opie’s grin gets wider, mischief shining bright in her big, brown eyes.

“What the actual fuck?” I’m disgusted at the thought. This is exactly what we’re trying to stop from happening and now…

“Okay, so I should probably have led with the fact that it’s not a trafficking thing. The details are all very secretive, but I’ve heard that it’s quite the classy affair. A friend was invited to attend one a few years ago. He didn’t end up going, or if he did, he didn’t say anything.” Looking up from her screen, Opie lifts her glass and downs the contents, super smug about her new revelations.

So I might need to sell my body for a weekend? I’m actually okay with that because I’ll do whatever it takes to rid this world of the evil lurking in the shadows. “Get me in then.”

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