Security Squad

Chapter 1

1

“Ladies!” Mrs. Janowski’s voice wavered as she hollered over boisterous bickering in the dining room. “We’re only choosing colors. It can’t be that hard.”

“It wouldn’t be if Sylvia would stop picking animal prints,” Ida said.

“Edna keeps picking mauve,” Sylvia retorted. “Not everything needs to be pink.”

“We’re not choosing either of those,” Mrs. Janowski said. “These are security uniforms, not our bowling shirts.”

“Speaking of which,” Ida interrupted, “we really need to update those shirts as well.”

“I agree. Brown and orange does nothing for my complexion,” Sylvia said.

“We should have pink bowling shirts,” Edna said, her bespectacled eyes twinkling. “It would match my bowling ball.”

“Enough with the girly colors,” Ida grumbled, taking a fortifying swallow of coffee, which we all knew was laced with whiskey.

“What’s wrong with brown and orange?” Mrs. Janowski asked. “They’ve served us well these last three decades.”

“Exactly. Three decades!” Sylvia stated. “It’s time for a fresh look. What about tiger print? We could rename our team Tigresses.”

“Too many S’s,” Edna said.

“I’m not wearing animal print,” Ida said. “Blue. Just plain blue.”

“I might agree with blue,” Edna said thoughtfully. “If it’s a baby blue.”

Ida blew out a great sigh and dug out her flask.

“Ladies, we’re here to discuss the security uniforms,” Mrs. Janowski repeated. “We’ll worry about our bowling shirts some other day. Now, what color should we choose?”

“Blue,” Ida stated.

“Mauve,” Edna said.

“Zebra,” Sylvia said.

“Camouflage,” Mrs. Janowski added.

They all turned to me. Oh brother.

“Mars, what would you choose?” Mrs. Janowski asked.

“Well,” I said, scanning the samples strewn over the table. I felt the weight of several stares as I contemplated my answer. No one was going to be pleased with my choice. “Why don’t we ask an expert?”

“Who?” was the unanimous owl response.

“I’ll call T. He’ll pick the color.”

“Men don’t have any fashion sense,” Sylvia said.

“Neither do you,” Ida mumbled into her cup.

“I think it’s a great idea,” Mrs. Janowski said. “Go ahead and call him. Since he’s the expert, we’ll defer to him.”

“He’s not an expert,” Ida argued. “He’s an ex-con who worked for a corrupt mayor.”

“Exactly,” Mrs. Janowski agreed with a smile. “He’s been around uniforms for a chunk of his life. He’ll know exactly what to pick.”

“Just as long as he doesn’t pick an orange jumpsuit,” Sylvia retorted.

“He recently opened his own private security company,” I said.

“People hire an ex-con for security?” Edna asked.

“Who better to hire than someone who has an inside track to a criminal mind?” Mrs. Janowski answered. “But this puts a kink in the chain.”

“What kink?” Ida asked.

“What chain?” Edna chirped.

“T is our competition,” Mrs. Janowski replied.

I didn’t think T considered the girls competition. They didn’t even have a paying gig yet. To Hank’s chagrin, the ladies have taken up security posts at the Road Hog bar. He barks at me every time they show up for duty. However, I use the word “duty” loosely. Sylvia flirts with the patrons; more often than not, it’s just Mac and Bob. Edna stands in a corner and squeaks if anyone comes too close. Ida sits at the bar with her customary bottle of whiskey at hand. Mrs. Janowski is the only one who actually walks the perimeter and keeps an eye on things . . . which worries me to no end.

“Should I call him?” I asked.

“Yes,” Mrs. Janowski replied. “Let him decide. It’s obvious we won’t reach a decision on our own.”

I quickly called him.

“T.” It was his usual greeting.

“T, it’s Mars.”

“What’s up?”

“The ladies are having a problem deciding on a color,” I said. He knew exactly who I was referring to. “Ladies” was our standard code for the four troublemakers.

“I don’t do colors.”

“They’re trying to decide on security uniforms.”

“Heaven help us. Have they taken any jobs?” T asked.

“The Road Hog.”

“Has Hank had a coronary?”

“He’s close,” I said, remembering how he turns crimson every time he sees a woman with tightly curled gray hair, whether it happens to be one of the “ladies” or not.

“Tell them to choose fluorescent yellow.”

“Won’t that stand out?”

“Yes. They’ll get into less trouble if people can see them coming from a mile away.”

“Brilliant,” I said, eyeing the ladies who were hanging on my every word. “I’ll let them know.”

“Did you open the envelope?” he asked.

I knew exactly what envelope he was referring to. The envelope Brett had left for me was a source of internal conflict. But I couldn’t ignore it. “Yes.”

“And?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Good. Did you tell him?” T asked.

“No. I was hoping you could.”

I heard a mutter and then silence.

“T?”

“Fine,” T finally agreed. “I’ll talk to him later.”

I thanked him and ended the call, looking up to find four pairs of eyes glued to me. They leaned in.

“Where are you going?” Mrs. Janowski asked.

“And who with?” Sylvia asked with a curling smile.

“It’s nothing,” I said, feeling like it was anything except nothing.

“Girls, I think we have a mystery on our hands,” Mrs. Janowski said.

“There’s no mystery,” I stated.

“Then you won’t mind answering the questions,” Ida said.

“There’s nothing to answer.”

“Evading the question.” Mrs. Janowski eyed me from across the table. “A mystery, indeed.”

“This mystery won’t be solved today,” I said. “I have to get to work before I’m late.”

“You can be late. Hank won’t mind,” Sylvia said.

My lips pursed. “Have you not met Hank?”

“Sylvia’s right. He’s all bark and no bite,” Ida said.

“Yes, but I’d rather not have to listen to his barking,” I said, standing to leave. “It makes for a really long shift.”

“Before you go, what color did T choose?” Mrs. Janowski asked.

“Fluorescent yellow.”

The ladies crinkled their noses.

“I haven’t worn fluorescent yellow since the eighties,” Sylvia said. “And even then I wasn’t a fan.”

“Did he say why?” Mrs. Janowski asked.

“Well,” I said thoughtfully. I couldn’t relay what T’s reasons were. They’d never agree to the color and we’d be back to square one. But I could shape it to sound reasonable. “One of the reasons is safety. Emergency crews sometimes wear fluorescent yellow so they can be easily seen.”

Mrs. Janowski frowned. “I don’t know. I think the whole point is that we should be able to fly under the radar. Get those crooks before they know what’s coming.”

“But what if someone needs help?” I asked. “If you wore a fluorescent color, they’d be able to find you.”

“That’s true,” she agreed hesitantly.

“What if we choose fluorescent blue instead?” Ida asked. “It wouldn’t be as loud as yellow.”

“What about lettering?” Sylvia asked. “What lettering would match with a fluorescent color?”

“What about the hat?” Edna asked. “I don’t want a repeat of the PP baseball caps.”

“No one wants a repeat of those,” Sylvia agreed with a shudder.

I glanced at the clock and frowned. I should have left five minutes ago. Hank’s going to be out of sorts for the rest of the day if I don’t get there soon.

“Ida, you pick the fluorescent color for the shirt. Sylvia will pick the lettering. Edna can choose the hat, and Mrs. J. will pick the logo,” I suggested, hoping that it would appease everyone.

They all gave a tentative nod, which told me I was off the hook. I quickly said my good-byes and hurried out the door and across the street to my house. I only had to grab my purse and then I could be on my way.

As I dashed over to the kitchen table to collect my purse, I upset a pile of papers in my hurry. An envelope fluttered to ground.

The envelope.

I stopped briefly.

No. This was not the time to think about it. Later.

Without picking up the envelope, I crossed over to the door and left.