Mixed Messages
Chapter 12
A picture is worth a thousand words

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A white sedan sat overlooking the middle school practice field. A man with a mustache lifted and pointed a black camera. He twisted the black rubber ring on a long lens, squinted his eyes, and pushed the button. He brushed salt and pepper brown hair away from his face, snapped several pictures of the middle school cheerleaders practicing, and pencilled notes in a dog-eared notebook.

The same car parked across from the red brick Big Wookie MMA gym on Thursday night, quietly waited, took pictures, and more notes.

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Where are the scars on Lauren's back? Amanda squinted closer at the picture and scratched her head.

She thought back to the time she asked Lauren about the one with her kissing a guy.

"Is that Jess's dad?"

"Huh? Oh, no. That's just an old friend of mine."

Amanda peered at mistletoe and matching garish Christmas sweaters. "Was it a Christmas party?"

"No, we were just out at dinner."

She gently brushed her fingertips over the picture of Lauren, without any scars, standing on a dock overlooking a blue lake, and thought, I kinda doubt glue salespeople hang up fake pictures of themselves. It's sort of weird that she doesn't have one single picture of any friends she seems to know, or even Jess's dad. Well, I guess maybe that's not that weird. She sighed heavily, and retrieved the black and pink LC monogrammed baby bag from the teddy bear decorated room.

"You ready?" Lauren asked.

"Absolutely." Amanda replied.

"Remember, we are only there to watch. Nothing else. We can't let him know we're here."

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Three nights of silence in Lauren's white SUV, staring into the crowds, watching a heavy set man with a grayish beard wander through the park, and Mandy stated coldly, "He's looking for young girls."

Lauren's eyes brightened, and she said, "For himself?"

"I don't think so. Mmm, no."

Lauren patted Amanda's shoulder, and said, "So then he's selling them. Do you think he's doing it himself or is he working for somebody?"

Amanda stared out the window for another twenty minutes. She squinted, paused, tied her hair back into a pony tail, pulled the gray hoodie over her head, and slid out the door into the deep shadows beside the bushes.

Lauren frowned then slid out the other door. She slinked through the shadows behind Amanda.

Amanda milled around, then sat down on a curb behind him, and allowed the light breeze blow past him into her face. She pretended not to watch him from deep within the dark recesses of her gray hoodie. Half an hour later, she milled around, circling him behind a trash can, and made her way back to the car. She leaned on the car, shifted back and forth, and stared. Lauren stood at the edge of the bushes, phone jammed into her ear, and said, "No sir, I understand. I'll keep her out of it. I'll send everything over to you tomorrow." Lauren saw Amanda and turned to face the bushes. She finally finished and they got in.

Amanda brushed some leaves and grit off her pants, and said, "I think he's working for somebody. He's bruised and has sort of a weird limp, like he recently got beat up."

"Anything else? Wesen?"

"I'm pretty sure he's a Skalengek. The smell is pretty hard to miss."

"You can smell that?"

"You can't?"

"Nope, not like that."

"Mine's not as good as Mom's. She'll sniff you out in a second."

"What did I have for lunch?"

Amanda rubbed her hand along the dark gray fabric arm rest, grimaced and thought, What haven't you eaten in this car? I still don't get how you aren't grossed out from all the, ugh. Mom would go crazy with this constant flood of stink blasting your brain, but gosh, Lauren acts like she can't smell any of it. She said, "Jake's Place. Two cheese burgers, bacon cheese jalapeno fries, and a shake. Then you got a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit, a sausage bagel sandwich, and a cup of coffee."

"What kind of shake?"

"You had two. Chocolate mint and peanut butter."

Lauren laughed out loud. "Are you hungry? I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry."

"Want to grab a burger?"

"What about him?"

"What happens if we do something now? We won't know who he's working for, if he's got any girls, or where he keeps them."

"I think he might."

"Might what?"

"Have some girls. I smelled something like perfume or girly soap, too. More than one type. Something that doesn't seem to fit a guy like that."

"Like girl stuff or women's stuff?"

"Definitely girly stuff. It's not the expensive stuff. Oh, and I found these. He threw them out."

Lauren looked over two crumpled fast food receipts. "Vancouver? Notice anything?"

"Twenty eight cheeseburgers? Not even you eat that much."

"Bingo."

"We have to go figure out what's going on!"

"Mmmmm." Lauren ran a hand through her short hair, and paused, staring out into space for an eternity. She quietly grumbled and said, "Nope. That's in another country with different laws and law enforcement. You and I can't exactly create a ruckus across an international border without arousing a lot of attention. And just how would we get girls back here, if there are any? We have to stay away from people who ask a lot of questions. I'm going to pass on all our info to a buddy at the local FBI field office, but you can't be involved with that."

"Lauren!" Mandy whined with a definite grump.

"And what would your Mom do if she got a call from the FBI about you? Trust me, there are plenty of bad guys out there that nobody will miss. You have to stay out of this!"

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The tall, slender woman looked up from her desk and stared out the window, into the reds, yellows, and oranges of Austrian fall.

She slid several manilla folders out of a locked file and them laid on her desk. She opened the first, stared at the picture of Lauren, smiled, closed it, and slid it back into the locked drawer. She drummed ruby red nails on the Brazilian Rosewood desk and opened the second.

She laid out fourteen pictures of young girls, stared at them, and scowled. She thought back. Four years! Four years in his dungeon, with a dozen girls like that. His personal toys, before father finally rescued me. I swore he would pay. Her mother's warm smile passed through her memory and she gritted her teeth. Mother, murdered as revenge, and father, forced to flee, to the very ends of the known world. They chased him to Portland, Oregon, and even there, they never gave him a single moment's peace, and, well, the king shuttled me off as if I was some sort of embarrassment. She closed her eyes and inhaled, clenched her fists and teeth, paused, and exhaled slowly.

A ghost of a smirk finally crept across her lips as she thought, Ironic how the tides have shifted. They hounded him, and that Grimm singlehandedly killed more of them in the past five years than any single event since The Crusades. Now, I'm the one sitting in a castle.

The smirk on her ruby red lips grew as her steel blue eyes stared out onto the fields full of brown stubble. She peered down at the picture of a man's face, and thought, Maximillian, maybe I can't do anything about you, but at least they'll soon be out of your hands. She closed the dossier, slid it into her locked drawer, and opened the third.

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The following Wednesday Amanda stood in formation, dressed in her blue and white cheer uniform. They counted out a cheer routine, broke formation, ran over, and pulled bottles of water out of a large tub. Jennifer, Allison, and Haleigh marched up and surrounded her.

"I don't know why you keep worrying about Miriam so much. Our squad took another first place without her last weekend, and you're our best flyer." Jennifer said as she flipped her hair. Haleigh and Allison nodded with hands on their blue and white clad hips.

"She's my best friend."

"She was your friend. You know she wouldn't be seen anywhere near you if she was here. All her friends keep telling people you killed her. Face it, Amanda, a real friend wouldn't do that. You're a Lowen, not a Skalengek. You need to stick with your pride."

Amanda grumbled, and thought, What's wrong with Lauren? Why won't she do anything about this? This is my best friend! Fine! It's time for me to do something.

That night, Amanda peeked out her window into the darkness, and thought, Perfect. No moon. She poked her head into the hall and perked her ears. The sounds of heavy sleeping filtered back to her. She pulled a gray hoodie over her head and slid out of the house.

She made her way across town to a gray house in a sketchy neighborhood. She looked out of the shadows and saw the front rooms lit. She slinked along the neighbor's fence line, around the unlit back, and found the door.

Amanda closed her eyes and silently exhaled. She paused for what felt like an eternity. Ready? She touched the brass knob, gingerly tried to twist, and released it. She stood and stared at the door, scratched her head, smiled, and twisted her head.

Amanda crouched, extended black claws, and scratched the bottom of the door along the marks already gouged into bare wood. She scratched five times, paused, scratched five more times, then crouched and waited.

Soon she heard heavy footsteps and a man's voice echo behind the door. "I'm coming, Baxter. I swear the Johnson's don't feed you, do they. Ok, well, hang on."

She scratched five more times, backed up, put her fingertips on the grass, dug in her toes, and waited. The door creaked and cracked open. Yellow light flooded into the yard, and Amanda charged as hard as she could.

The grayish blur burst through the door and crashed on top of the bearded man dressed in sweat pants and a greasy white shirt. Stunned, he swung, scattering fish-flavor cat food in a semicircle across the green linoleum floor, yellow sink, and olive formica countertop.

Amanda felt the gray blur whiz over her head and heard the metallic clatter against the cabinets while she slammed a kicks and punches into his round chest and salt and pepper beard.

He winced and wogued, revealing a yellow scaly hide, yellow eyes, and gills on his neck. He leapt off the floor, straight at her, with a sharp-toothed hiss, but screeched to a halt at the sight of his own Skalengek reflection lurking inside the shadow of the gray hood and a machete raised high. His scaly skin turned greenish and he said, "Oh my God! A Grimm!"

He stared at the black machete in her left hand. The man fell to his knees, pushing backwards, and started yelling, "No! No! No! I swear, I didn't do it!"

She pointed the razor sharp machete at his eye and said "The girls!"

"I don't know what you are talking about!"

She raised the worn machete over her head, preparing to swing, and said, "The girls, Skalengek!"

"They'll kill me."

She hauled the machete back and focused on his neck.

"No! No! Whatever you want! Here!" He threw a thick, rubber band wrapped wad of one-hundred dollar bills onto the counter next to her. A petite, gloved hand reached out and stuffed it into her front pocket.

"Write it down. Everything!" How many, their names, address of the place you keep them, directions, people you work for, schedule to sell them. I want it all."

"I, uh? Swear you won't kill me?"

She tossed a pen and paper to him. "All of it."

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The next night, after MMA practice, she slid up close to Lauren. They sat on the red padded mats dressed in white gi robes, and removed blue sparring pads. Amanda whispered, "I know where they have the girls."

"Huh? What?"

She looked around, and whispered, "In Vancouver. I know the address and everything. They are supposed to ship them out next Tuesday. We have to go rescue them."

Lauren sat up straight as a board, focused her eyes at Amanda, and said, "How do you know this?"

Amanda told her about beating the information out of the guy. She shared all the information. Addresses, schedules, and the rest.

Lauren's face turned red, her eyes narrowed, and she hissed. "You were supposed to stay out of this!"

"Miriam is my best friend! I can't just let them kill her."

A buzz echoed in Lauren's pocket. She fished out a black cellphone Mandy couldn't remember seeing before. She put her thumb on it, entered a code, and finally looked at the message. She cursed under her breath and muttered, "Seriously? Now? No!" then slid it back in her pocket. She paused for a minute, staring at Amanda, and said, "Did you kill him?"

"No. I told him I wouldn't if he told me everything."

She rubbed a hand through her short black hair. "No! Mandy! What are you thinking?"

"What?"

"Don't you think he'll tell somebody? Don't you think they will just clear out? Move the girls, or worse, kill them all?"

"He said he wouldn't tell anybody."

"Right, just like he wasn't supposed to tell you either. Seriously! Mandy! The Authorities are already working on it. You have to stay out of this."

Amanda snuck out that night again. The man's place looked empty and dark. She waited and waited, then finally found a loose window in back, snuck in, and found his body, cold and stiff.

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She yawned and had trouble focusing all day, Friday, She stared at her writing assignment for half an hour and couldn't make any sense of it. She stared out the window in math class until the teacher yelled at her, three times. She stared and picked at the baked chicken and mashed potatoes for lunch, and realized she hadn't eaten anything. She looked at her tray and squinted at a dozen question marks traced in her gravy. Then in Social Studies, she answered the wrong question on the board and everyone stared at her and laughed.

Finally, at cheer practice, she forgot to line up in formation once and turned left when everybody else turned right. Jennifer walked straight up to her, and said "Hey! Our competition is next weekend! Get your head in the game. What happened there in formation? Your timing was way off!"

Amanda looked at her shoes, shoulders fallen, and said, "I don't know, I didn't sleep last night. I'm going to practice counting off the whole routine this weekend. I'll be ready Monday."

"A few of us are getting together at my house tomorrow afternoon to go through it. You should come over."

"My parents have stuff lined up for tomorrow, but I'll try to come over, ok?"

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Lauren sat, at the end of a row of gray chairs, looking out at shadows and lights moving in the darkness. She slurped coffee, rubbed her eyes, and looked down at Jess eating apple slices and a cup of milk. She stared up at the TV screen, ignoring the usual Saturday morning political outrage cloaked as news, and then back out the window. She pointed and said, "Hey buddy, look, an Airplane."

Jess jumped up and scampered to the window. He pressed his face and hands against the glass, and watched intently.

She watched a woman walk up to a podium and look into the sparse crowd. She heard an announcement, stood up, grabbed the handle of a rolling bag, and slung the pink and black monogrammed baby bag over her shoulder. She said, "Come on buddy, time to go."

He stood, talking and pointing. She laughed, walked over, and took him by the hand. She walked him over and stood behind a group of people. She yawned and looked down at Jess, holding his teddy bear and pulling towards the window. A buzz rumbled in her pocket. She grumbled, fished out her phone, and muttered, "Vancouver?"

She shrugged and said, "Lauren, Xander adhesives, can I help you?"

"Hey, it's Amanda. I messed up the other day. I'm going to rescue Miriam."

"What?"

"I'm in Vancouver now."

"No! Mandy! You can't do this!"

"This is what Grimms do. You said it yourself. I have to rescue her."

"Amanda! Listen to me! You can't get involved!"

"I have to. I owe it to her."

"At least wait till I can get there! Promise me you won't do this by yourself."

Lauren stared at the airplane sitting outside the window in the dark, the stewardess standing at the ticket machine, and the TV screen full of numbers and times. She rubbed her left hand through her short hair, then finally looked down at Jess, holding a teddy bear, next to a black rolling suitcase. She cursed under her breath, said, "Sorry," pulled the tickets away from the woman, and stepped out of line. She dialed her phone, and turned around.

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3k 12/15/20 r2