Getting from Manhattan to the semi-rural New York countryside had been a lot harder than Angie expected. No cabbie she flagged down would agree to take her out there, so she finally resorted to calling in the favor Martha owed her from that time she'd helped her sneak a fella in through the laundry room of the Griffith. Truth be told, she still wasn't sure how he'd managed to fit into that dress.
Angie waited for almost an hour at the garage on 32nd Street for Martha's kid brother to finish changing the oil on a car, but she honestly didn't mind. He was elbows deep in a brand new 1946 Nash 4648 600 Slipstream sedan, and Angie enjoyed the chance to silently marvel at the sleek six-cylinder shiny green automobile. What she wouldn't give to get her hands on one of those, she thought.
When Mickey finally finished, he motioned her around to the back of the shop. Parked near the back of the alley sat a black 1941 Special DeLuxe Plymouth. Angie gave it an appraising look as she walked over to the passenger side.
"How does it handle with that 117" wheelbase?" she asked, her eyes skimming the white walled tires.
Mickey flicked a lazy glance at her. "Not too bad."
"Huh," Angie nodded. She glanced at the hood. "Long-stoke L-head straight-six?"
Now Mickey grinned. "87 hp." He opened the door and slid in while Angie did the same. Turning on the ignition, he laughed. "Martha said you had a thing for cars."
"A little."
"Yeah, a little," he laughed and pulled the car out of the alley and onto the city street. Angie sat back and enjoyed the ride. Ever since living on her own, she hadn't had too many opportunities to enjoy a quiet drive. While the Plymouth was nothing fancy like the newer Slipstream at the garage, it ran like a charm, and Angie told Mickey as much. His pleased smile let her know her hunch that he'd put some serious time into the vehicle had been correct.
When Angie originally decided to snoop on Peggy, she'd hoped to get to the dairy at least half an hour before her roommate and the mysterious Ruth Barton were due to arrive so she could have the upper hand. But New York City being what it was, she and Mickey had sat in standstill traffic for a good hour before they finally began to make headway. As Angie watched the city zip by the window and slowly transform into rolling countryside, she considered how she might go about catching a glimpse of the enigmatic Ruth Barton. She still hadn't decided whether she wanted to catch Peggy red-handed with her or simply size up the competition.
After going back and forth several times and not coming to any reasonable conclusion, Angie opted to play it by ear when she finally got there. She glanced at her watch. It was almost 12:30, and they still had another half hour before they would reach the dairy. That was if they even got there in time. The traffic had really slowed them down. At this rate, she might miss Peggy entirely, and then where would that leave her?
"Martha says you're a wizard when it comes to cars," Angie said abruptly, turning from her thoughts to gaze at the young man seated beside her.
Mickey's lip curled into a cocky grin. "Maybe."
"Done any work on the engine?"
Mickey nodded. "A little."
Angie snorted. A little, her ass. Any grease monkey worth his salt would've put hours into the engine of a car like this.
"Enough to get me to the dairy in the next fifteen minutes instead of thirty?" she challenged.
Mickey looked over, an arrogant smirk spreading across his face. "Martha also said you had a thing for fast cars."
"Maybe," Angie shrugged, but her eyes glinted with mischief.
Mickey chuckled. "All right, Angie, you wanna' be there fast? I can get you there fast. Hang on, Brooklyn!" he warned and reached down to shift gears before punching the pedal to the floor. Angie felt the car dart forward and suddenly they were flying, the green hills and white signs rushing past them as the speedometer steadily climbed. 60. 70. 80. 85.
When they hit 90 mph, she let out a joyous yell, borne of pure exhilaration. Mickey would get her there in plenty of time, and she'd be able to get the information she needed to set Peggy straight about Ruth Barton.
True to his word, Mickey pulled up the dairy's long winding drive within fifteen minutes, and Angie made a mental note to treat him to a slice of pie next time Martha brought him with her to the Automat. She could see several trucks parked out by the loading docks, but she didn't see any sign of Peggy, although she did catch a brief glimpse of some rather shapely legs that disappeared into a white coat tucked behind one of the trucks, but the woman was gone as soon as Mickey rounded the corner and stopped in front of the building.
He shifted the car to park and glanced at Angie. "Need me to wait?"
"Nah," Angie said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "You've done enough already, Mickey. If things don't work out the way I hope, I can always call a friend. He's usually around in the afternoons." She frowned. "Not quite sure where he was this morning, but I'll make do."
Mickey nodded and looked thoughtful. "You know, Angie, you should come by the garage sometime. I can show some of the other improvements I've made on this baby."
Angie grinned and bit her lower lip. "I just might take you up on that, Mickey. It's been a while since I've gotten my hands dirty." She stepped out of the car and shut the door before leaning back through the window. "Tell Martha we're good now, okay?"
"Will do," he promised, waiting for her to step back before shifting the car into reverse.
Angie watched as Mickey pulled away before turning around to face the building. She still wasn't quite sure how this was going to work, but she was here, so there was nothing left to do but go inside and see if she could size up the competition. She put on her biggest smile, sauntered up the steps and breezed through the doorway. A young man was just entering the office when she walked in, and she had to smother a smile when he did a double-take at her entrance.
"Well, good afternoon!" he drawled. "What can I do for such a pretty lady?"
Angie beamed and moved to the counter, settling her elbows on it. It was now or never, she thought.
"Hi there!" she beamed. "I'm supposed to be meeting someone here, but to be honest, I'm not even sure I have the right place."
"Well, I sure hope you do," he replied, leaning in closer. "Who you looking for?"
"Well my friend Peggy said we were supposed to meet here," Angie explained, opting for a half-truth since that seemed like the safest option.
The young man nodded. "Peggy, huh? Don't know anyone by that name." He jerked a thumb toward the side door. "Only dame on the property right now is a health inspector."
Angie felt her heart begin to race. "Ruth Barton?" she asked, hoping the quaver in her voice didn't give her away.
Apparently it didn't, because the man grinned. "Yeah, that's the one. You know her?"
"She's my, uh, supervisor," Angie lied. "I didn't realize that's who we were meeting, though! Can I just pop out there for a minute?" she asked, heart pounding in her chest.
"Nope, sorry," he apologized. "No one's allowed out there without permission."
Angie gave him her biggest smile. "Well then, how about you let me speak to whoever can give me permission?" She laid a hand on his arm and squeezed.
The young man grinned. "Let me get Mr. Bryan. He's the foreman," he explained, sauntering over the door and opening it to yell, "Mr. Bryan! There's some dame here asking to speak to the guy in charge."
Angie listened as he conversed with someone outside and bit back a smile when he called her a real looker. She might not swing that way, but it was always nice to be noticed.
Within a minute, an older man strolled through the doorway, a dour expression on his face; however, when he saw Angie, his expression became a little less severe, and after instructing the young man to wait outside on the dock, he turned back to Angie with a faint smile.
"What can I do for you, ma'am?" he asked.
Angie took a deep breath. It was now or never. She prayed to God her acting skills would see her through the blatant tale she was about to weave.
"I'm from the City Health Inspectors office, and I'm supposed to meet Miss Barton today," she began, but abruptly stopped when she him wince at the sound of the other woman's name.
"Another one? The one out there is bad enough," he grumbled before eyeing her appraisingly. "You don't look like no health inspector," he said.
"That's because I'm not!" Angie replied with a laugh. "I'm only an assistant. Miss Barton's assistant, actually. But I was just assigned to her office yesterday, so she probably wasn't even told I was coming," she explained, bouncing on the balls of her feet and giving him her sunniest smile. "But I have this paperwork I'm supposed to give her," she patted her purse, "and the boys back at the office will kill me if she doesn't get it, so maybe you could just point me in her direction? I promise to be in and out faster than you can say city bureaucracy!"
Angie knew it was a stretch, and she wasn't quite sure what she'd even do if she did get a chance to come face to face with Miss Barton. But she could figure that out later. Right now, she just wanted the opportunity to see her.
Mr. Bryan gave her another glance. "How come you don't have a white coat like she does?"
Angie shrugged her shoulders and smiled deprecatingly. "Just an assistant."
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, they never think about the little guys, do they?" he retorted before pausing. "Or ladies, in your case," he added with an apologetic smile. "C'mon. Miss Barton's outside. I'll take you to her." He motioned for Angie to follow him out of the door.
Angie gave him her brightest smile and trailed behind him. "As long as you're sure, Mr. Bryan," she said. "I don't want to cause any problems for you."
"It's not a problem at all," he assured her. "Miss Barton is right over here." He pointed to a slender woman wearing a white lab coat who was currently turned away from them.
Angie started to reply, but the sentence died in her throat when Miss Barton turned around, and Angie found herself staring into the surprised eyes of Peggy Carter.