Spying

by Janelle Amer

There she was, literally, the woman of his dreams. She entered the coffee shop right on cue and exited fifteen minutes later with her scone and almond milk latte. She stood on the sidewalk for a few minutes, blew into the cup and looked at her phone. Oohh, she just bought a new one! That looked like, wait a minute, yes, it was. She had the newest Galaxy 10 model with wrap around screen. He just saw an ad for that phone on the L tram line billboard on the way over. Man, she had some loot to spend on these gadgets! He was using an old cast-off he picked up cheap from a shop on the east side. He needed a job. What he’d do now to get his hands on

some loot so he could have a new phone also.

He was regretting turning down the job Big Jim had offered him last night. It was a big one, some famous actor and his pad. Big Jim had shown him the list of items he wanted stolen and the security codes to get inside. He would have made a lot of money off that deal. But he hesitated, and then said no. Big Jim had not been happy. Maybe next one, he told Big Jim. I’ve got other things to do right now, he told him. He had left without a second thought. Big Jim would offer him another gig, and then he’d buy himself a new phone too. Maybe he’s get an

iPhone. His friend had one, listened to all types of music on it, too. That would be an idea. He’d buy himself one of those, then he could stand on the corner with his coffee, no latte deal for him, just black coffee, and listen to his music also from his fancy phone. He would start a conversation, maybe ask her, Hey, whatcha listening to? They could share music files and then meet later for dinner. But first, he needed money to buy a fancy phone. Once he had it, then he’d look for the opportunity to meet her in person.

Oh, he knew so much about her already. He knew that her favorite low-cut boots were dark brown, and she wore them when it was chilly outside. When the weather turned warmer, her new favorite shoes were red flats, with a small heel. She wore them with her short skirts, her skinny jeans, shorts that barred her butt moons, and even with a pair of pajama bottoms on that one time she was out late at night for a small container of coconut milk mint chip frozen dessert. Oh yes, he also knew of course where she lived, downtown near the edge of the run-down section of town. She lived with a roommate, a girl her age who liked to hang with her other friends more than her roomie. The roommate was not home much, a couple of nights a week at the most. She’d come in sometimes just before dawn, go to bed, and get up in the evening. He did not know what she did for a living, he never saw her getting ready to go to work. Unless of course she worked at night on the streets. But she did not look like any of the hookers or fancy escorts that he’d met.

His dream woman, however, held down a steady job Monday through Friday. She was a service representative for a fancy tech company just uptown. He knew her exact title because he once got inside her workplace, posing as a disgruntled customer. He did not initiate contact with her then, that would have been too obvious. He made sure to go by her desk and read her nameplate though. She wouldn’t have recognized him anyway with the hat, glasses and facial hair he’d grown out for this occasion. It took him a month to plan it. But it paid off, because now he knew her first name, initial of her last, and her title: Annabelle M., Customer Service Representative.

He often spent his evenings dreaming up a new name for her. He didn’t like her given name, he thought it didn’t suit her. It was too fluffy, and she was not fluffy. She was spiky, and wild, and exotic. She was sexy and smart and wore good clothes. Annabelle reminded him of some kid in a story book from his childhood, a kid who lived in an orphan home and was not pretty at all like his woman. Right now he was stuck on the name Roxy for her. She was a better Roxy to him than she’d ever be an Annabelle. He had been watching Roxy every day for the last two months. Before that, he only spied on her four or five days a week.

He vividly remembered the day he found her. It was a Tuesday, five months and ten days ago, in a grocery store he had never been to. A friend with money offered to pay him to travel to a certain store, buy a particular product, and bring it back to her. His friend had just broken her leg and really wanted a particular brand of tea, of frickin’ tea, that was only available at the goochy market on 5th street. He said yes, he’d go get it for her, as long as she had the cash right then to pay him and for the tea. No way was he going to fork out before his ten-dollar payout for some tea with some weird Zen name. She gave him the cash and off he went, riding the L line

downtown. With a little luck, and the help of a hot grocery worker, he found the little box of tea, all packaged in pink and teal with I Ching symbols blazoned all over. He knew they were from the I Ching, he’d read the little book one time while sleeping over at a friend’s pad for a week. As he was mumbling to himself while standing in line in the express lane, he saw her. Right in front of him.

She turned to her left to read one of those check out magazine covers. She was gorgeous, and all he’d ever dreamed about. Jet-black hair, cut above her ears and with short bangs, bright red lipstick and made-up eyes. She looked like a girl from the flapper time, back in the 1920’s. She was wearing tight black jeans and a red sweater, her perky boobs pushing the material out as she turned to the left. It was all he could do to hide the boner growing in his pants. He had to turn away fast so she wouldn’t see. When he heard her talking to the checker, he faced the front again. She was busy chatting and paying for her groceries, not looking at him. He was free to watch her fine ass moving around in those jeans as she bagged her own stuff, reaching and

bending. He was in love. She was it, the girl of his dreams, the one he’d been searching for. He just knew it. At that moment he decided to devote his time to watching, following, and learning all he could about her. It would only be a matter of time until he was able to meet her in person and disclose his undying love for her. They’d be together forever, he was sure.

His chance to meet her face to face arrived. It was one week after Roxy showed up at the coffee shop with her new phone. He saw her come out with her latte and scone and she walked right up to him! He wasn’t prepared for this encounter. As he was fumbling with his coffee cup, she asked him to help her.

“Hey, can you help me? Do you know this place?”

She showed him a picture on her Galaxy 10 phone.

“I was told the food at Mo’s Travelling Diner was fantastic, but it does not come up on a search and I never heard of it before. Thought you might know by chance?”

He was caught off guard by her approach and then her question. But then, he did remember seeing a food truck last night parked by the M line, and it actually said Mo’s Travelling Diner on the side. What luck!

“Uh, yes! I know that truck! I just saw it last night! I can tell you where it was, maybe it will be there tonight again?”

“I’m Annabelle, by the way. Why don’t we meet there later tonight, and if it’s still there, it will be my treat! Unless your busy, of course! I don’t want to impose on you or assume you’re free. But it’s always funner to try a new place with someone else, don’t you agree?”

“Uh, yeah, better to have two people than one, sure. OK, sounds great! How about we meet at seven? Last night the truck was parked two blocks from the cliffs, next to the M, on the corner of Second and Bridge.”

“Great! I know where that is. I will meet you there at seven. And thanks, I really want to try their food and it’ll be fun to go together. See you later!”

And then she was gone, and he did not know what had just transpired. For the rest of the day, he fretted over what to wear and showered twice. He got to Second and Bridge early and was greatly relieved to see that the truck was parked there again tonight. What luck he had seen it and she asked about that particular truck. It was finally happening; he was meeting the woman of his dreams! Did he even tell her his name? He couldn’t remember. He barely remembered what else she said to him besides let’s meet tonight.

He had the menu almost memorized by the time she arrived, a quarter past seven. She was dressed in skinny jeans, but no red flats. Instead, she wore black running shoes, a pair he’d never seen before. She had on a leather jacket that was zipped up and did not carry a purse. She looked different. She stared him down as she approached, and he almost turned to run. But then she called out to him, and his gut reaction to run disappeared with her voice.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late! Thanks for waiting for me! So it’s here, wonderful! What can I get you?”

What had he been thinking? She was perfect! Who cared if she dressed different tonight? It meant she cared how she looked for him and he was important enough to her. That’s why she must have been late, he told himself. She could not decide what to wear and it took her longer than it took him because she was at work all day and he wasn’t.

"Hey, no problem! I’d like to try the Meat sub. It seems to be really popular. Glad you made it!”

Roxy/Annabelle purchased two meat subs and suggested they stroll down Bridge towards the ocean. They ate as they walked. The sun had just set, and the streets were now quiet. They finished their food before they reached the end of the road. She had kept up a steady stream of conversation as they walked, keeping him distracted. Suddenly she turned towards him and reached inside her jacket, and pulled out a small, golden handgun. Aiming at his chest, she stopped walking and planted her feet firmly on the ground.

“Hey, what the hell?? What are you doing? Why are you pointing at me with that gun?”

He backed away from her, but there was no place to go. She’d lured him to this dead-end cliff, and his options were to try to run around her without getting shot, or to jump. He knew the edge was a steep drop-off that tumbled onto rocks a hundred feet below. He could hear the waves crashing beneath him. She stood there and glared at him. She could have pulled the trigger but she hesitated. Maybe he had a chance after all.

“Hey, let’s talk this out! What can I do for you, what do you want?”

“Nothing personal, but you’re the mark, and I gotta deliver. A girls got to have money. Just so you know, you’re a pretty crappy spy. I knew you’d been following me for months. You should have done better. Too late now.”

“Drop the gun now!!! We will shoot and you are surrounded!”

What the heck? Who were these guys? Out of nowhere four guys in uniforms wearing full battle flack had popped up and had their weapons drawn on her, his Roxy, who was about to shoot him! There was one guy on either side of him, and out of instinct he dropped to the ground and covered his head. He hoped beyond any prayer he’d never issued that these guys were real, and he was not hallucinating. He didn’t look up, but he heard multiple safety locks click off and felt the tension in the air increase.

“Drop the gun now, McCoy! It’s over, we’ve got you on video and voice recording! We know the hit was ordered by Big Jim and we know where to find him too. You’ve just admitted you took the job for pay, and there is no place for you to run. Testify against Big Jim and we’ll talk about reducing your time. And thanks for the great set up by the way. You made our job easier tonight catching you!”

One of the cops near him called out and told him to crawl away to the side and keep on the ground. He snuck a peak at the standoff as he belly crawled as fast as he could. The cops closed in on Roxy, no, McCoy? Was her name really Annabelle McCoy? Was she really a hit woman and had he really been her mark?? Did she really know how long he’d been following her? These thoughts raced through his head in a matter of seconds, just the time it took for McCoy to run straight to the edge of the cliff. He saw her body flail, her arms continue to circle

and her legs continue to run, as the bullets hit her, knocking her off the edge and into the crashing waves below.