“Yes.” Valentina shook her head. “It sounds like they had to take in one of your neighbors along with Smirnov’s men for getting in the way of the arrest.”
“Shelly?”
“I can’t say,” Valentina answered.
But of course, it was Shelly. How did Shelly manage to get in the way of everything? Really, that’s why she didn’t suspect Fran of more than being nosy. There were so many Frans and Shellys. Every neighborhood, every workplace, every family had one—getting in the way, messing everything up, micromanaging.
“Apparently, she was mad at the agents for not responding sooner.” Valentina looked confused. “She claims to have been calling the cops all week complaining about their illegal parking to no effect.”
Gabby nodded. That lined up with all of the posts on the LISTSERV.
“Long story short, during the altercation, one of Smirnov’s guys came to and accused her of harassment, which was apparently reasonable. They had grounds for a restraining order, according to the cops.”
Gabby laughed. “Ohmygod.”
“Anyway, she didn’t take that very well. They tried their best to work around her and send her back into her house, but she wouldn’t listen, kept getting more agitated. They didn’t want to deal with her, so they let her cool off in handcuffs.”
“Any chance she’ll stay in jail for a while?” Gabby could use the vacation.
“No, but it sounds like the action at your house was as wild as here.”
In the corner, one of the agents started reading Smirnov his Miranda rights in a booming voice. “You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say can and will be used against you…”
As the agent perp walked Smirnov past her, Gabby stared him down. Before she second-guessed herself, she slapped him across the face as hard as she could. That fucker had threatened her babies.
Valentina laughed. “Get him, Gabs.”
Gabby sighed. The violence wasn’t even satisfying. It had been worth a try, though. Really, she didn’t care about him as long as he was gone. “What’s going to happen to them?” Gabby asked.
“They’ll be arrested and booked under various RICO violations.”
There was a flurry of activity outside the door, and someone called, “Help!” frantically. “Someone help me! Camille, where are you? Camille!”
All of the agents straightened up. Several hands hovered over sidearms, braced for the worst.
Valentina spoke into her comm. “This is Agent 442. There is a man calling for help and proceeding toward the back room. Anyone in the front, please head toward the kitchen to provide backup.”
Betty Danger burst into the room, sequins flashing in the EOD flashlights and her blond wig filling the entire doorway. “People, we have an emergency!” she yelled, ignoring the agent response. Once in the room, she stopped what she was doing and took in the scene, which included three guys in handcuffs, the signs of a fight, and Gabby’s black eye.
Valentina approached Betty with her weapon drawn. “Ma’am, what is the nature of the emergency?”
“We’re out of champagne,” Betty announced.
Valentina’s expression said, “This bitch,” as loud as words. Into her earpiece she said, “This is Agent 442 again. Stand down. There is no emergency.”
Gabby threw her arms around Betty Danger. “I’ll help.”
Betty glanced at Gabby’s battered form. “What in the hell happened to you?”
“It’s worse than it looks.” And so much better than it could have been. A little stiffer than usual, she walked out of the room arm-in-arm with her best friend.
Alice stopped her before she got too far. With a quick nod of approval, she said, “Good job tonight, Agent Greene.”
“Thank you, Agent Strong.”
Alice shook her head. “If only we’d gotten those codes.” She grumbled and added, “I must have been groggy from the drugs. Normally my memory is perfect.”
“Oh, we have the codes. I handed Fran my son’s spy pen. The message will reappear tomorrow. I didn’t read the directions, but I think it has something to do with sunlight.”
