CHAPTER THREE
Monday 20 July, 8:00am
Amanda and Francine sat across from Billy in his office as he briefed them on their assignment.
"California Congressman David Wile has received several threatening letters from a group calling themselves 'Rights of the Unborn,' an anti-abortion group that's been getting more vocal in recent years. They're a radical group and they've been involved in hate-mail campaigns to various members of the pro-choice lobby. Last week, the Congressman received a letter bomb – the day after he opened the new clinic on Q Street where his daughter works. Fortunately, the bomb was intercepted and destroyed, but the group has also threatened to blow up the clinic. I want you two to see what you can find out about the attack."
Amanda shook her head. "I'll never understand how you can claim to be saving a life by taking another. It's just so…arbitrary."
"They see it as protecting the innocent," said Francine. "Yet they don't see politicians as innocent. At least, those who don't agree with their point of view. They see them as culpable and fair game in their war."
"I just don't get it," said Amanda.
"No," agreed Francine, "it doesn't make sense to me either."
"Right," interrupted Billy, sensing the gloom that was descending over his office. "Let's see what we can do to fix this, yes? Amanda, you go through the Agency files and check into the MO, see if we've encountered this particular type of bomb before."
"Yes, sir."
"Francine, go find Max and see if he's dug up the building plans yet."
"Nooo, not Max in Planning?" She groaned. "Where does the Agency find these guys?"
"Who's Max?" asked Amanda.
"You don't want to know. Last time I went down to his office – or should that be lair? – I was lucky to get out of there with my life…not to mention my dress."
"Ooh." Amanda shuddered.
"You remember the grabber?" Francine asked Amanda.
"Do I," Amanda nodded sympathetically.
"Well imagine that yutz but ten times worse and twice as many hands."
"Oh, Francine. Why does the Agency put up with him?"
"He's a genius. He has a photographic memory. He has the entire filing system in his head. Trouble is that means he's the only one who can find anything. Quickly, at any rate. It's okay, Amanda, I can handle him. This time I'm ready for him."
"Karate?"
"Maybe. And if that fails, there's always pepper spray and a stun gun." Francine smiled.
"Francine, please," Billy interrupted. "Can you quit scheming for a second and concentrate?" She nodded. "The clinic was converted for use shortly before it opened so the plans may not be filed yet. We need to know what we might be dealing with."
"Okay, Billy, I'll go see Max. But if you hear him screaming, just ignore it." She grinned. "Once we've got all the data from here we'll head on over to the clinic and see what we can find out."
"Francine, I think we should speak to one of Lee's information brokers – Augie Swann."
"Augie Swann? The Bonanza guy? How sweet." Francine spoke unconvincingly.
"I'll call him. I'm sure he can get something on this for us."
"That's fine, Amanda, set it up," said Francine. "Can I leave you to contact the Congressman too? We need to talk to him as well."
"Sure. Is he under protection?"
"Yes," answered Billy. "There are a couple of our guys on watch around the clock and his personal security team has been increased. There are also people on his daughter."
"I'll make an appointment."
~~SMK~~
Monday 20 July, 11:15am
Amanda parked the Jeep in front of the clinic. As the women emerged from the car, they were hit by the cacophony of noise coming from the chanting protesters. Like their arguments, protesters were split down the center, separated by the clinic entrance. Pro-choice supporters stood to their left as they approached and pro-life supporters to their right. Between the two groups were a number of police officers who manned the barriers keeping the two groups apart and the clinic staff and clients safe.
Francine and Amanda walked through the mass of people and headed into the clinic to the sound of cheers and jeers. As the door closed behind them, muffling the noise, Francine spoke. "That's a scary crowd."
"Yes. I don't envy anyone making the decision to come here. You'd have to be determined to walk through them."
"It certainly wouldn't make the decision any easier, that's for sure."
They were interrupted as a man in his late thirties approached, dressed in a business suit. "Ms. Desmond, Mrs. King?"
"Yes," they agreed, showing him their IDs. "I'm Daniel Hawthorne, the manager here at the Family Center. We've been expecting you. Would you come this way?" They headed to his office and sat down. "Now, how may I help you?"
As agreed on the way over in the car, Amanda began. "We're following up on the letter bomb that was sent to Congressman Wile last week and the other threats to him and the clinic. I understand he's quite an advocate?"
"He certainly is that. He's campaigned to get funding for us and has attended a number of charity events to get sufficient funds to get us off the ground. Of course, it doesn't hurt that his daughter interns here."
"I'll bet," said Francine, looking a little skeptical at the Congressman's motives.
"No, no," said Daniel. "The clinic was Catherine's idea. She's the one that convinced the Congressman to get involved. She's been working for our cause at other locations for a couple of years, but now she's interning here. She won't accept a salary though. Says that she doesn't want to suggest any conflict of interest or impropriety, given her father's position."
"Sounds very…altruistic," remarked Francine.
"Not at all. Well maybe a little, but she's very committed to our cause."
"Do you know why she's so dedicated?"
"I believe a friend of hers from college – she's at Georgetown - committed suicide a while ago. She'd gotten pregnant, and tried to obtain an abortion. After a great deal of harassment from pro-lifers when she visited a clinic, she felt she couldn't take the pressure. Apparently, she took an overdose of pills. Catherine was away on a weekend field trip and was devastated when she got back and found her friend's body. That's when she took up the cause to make abortions freely available to anyone who felt they needed one."
"So it's a personal crusade?" asked Amanda.
"Definitely, yes," Daniel agreed. "And she can be very, er…persuasive." He laughed. "She's a great person to have championing your cause. Trouble is, champions generate enemies. The service we offer is legal, but controversial. Feelings run deep. Bomb threats are par for the course, an everyday occurrence. No big deal."
"Bomb threats are no big deal? You're kidding, right?" Amanda was incredulous.
"Don't get me wrong. We take these kind of threats seriously. Very seriously. But what can we do? We have to be an accessible operation. Too much security may deter women who desperately need the help from coming here so we have to balance security with accessibility. Anyone working here knows the risks and accepts them. It's as much a cause to us as it is to those of the opposing view. We, however, are operating within the law."
"So, how many threats do you get here?"
"Well, we've been operating for about three weeks now, although the Congressman officially opened the clinic last Thursday. We get at least one bomb threat, or something, by telephone every day, then there are the letters. We've not had anyone actually carry out their threats however."
"Until the Congressman's letter bomb?" questioned Francine.
"Exactly," Daniel agreed. "That made the threats seem more real, but we have to carry on."
"Wouldn't it make more sense for the Congressman to stop being so vocal in his support here?"
"Catherine asked him to. It doesn't seem to have worked though. You'd have to ask her for the details."
"Is there anything else you can tell us about the threats? Any pattern?"
"No more than I've already outlined to the cops and the Emergency Response Team," he said. "It seems the group behind the bomb claimed to be called 'Rights of the Unborn.'
"Have you heard of them?"
"They're not a group I've ever come across before. But these groups appear and disappear from day to day. Many of them are loud but often they're inactive, hoping threats will accomplish the results they desire. Looks like this group may be different."
"But it won't stop you operating?"
"Not if I have anything to say about it. Sometimes it's easier to live with the threats than have innumerable visits from the various agencies. Like I said before, too much security makes people nervous."
"Well, we'll be out of here as soon as we can, Daniel." Amanda reached out to shake his hand as she stood. "Is Catherine here now? We'd really like to get her perspective on the threats."
"Sure. Please follow me."
~~SMK~~
After the introductions were over and Daniel had returned to his office, Francine and Amanda began questioning Catherine Wile.
"So, Miss Wile," Francine began this time, "can you tell us anything about the bomb that was sent to your father?"
"Nothing much, and it's Catherine. I just know that it'll take more than a threat of a bomb – or even an actual bomb - to scare me off!" She was obviously angry.
"You think it was just a scare tactic?" Francine was curious.
Catherine nodded. "Yes. They know that Daddy is a supporter of the clinic. They wanted to give him a message. They're cowards! If they wanted to target anyone, they should have sent the letter to me. I'm the one driving this. I asked him to keep a lower profile, said that it could be dangerous. You know what he said?"
"What?" asked Amanda.
"'I always taught you not to run from a fight, Catherine. This is a time to put that into practice.' He's right, too." She laughed. "We make a good team. A stubborn one. I'm definitely my father's daughter. I guess it's because we both lost mom so long ago. Since then we've always been 'The Two Musketeers.' Maybe it makes us a little reckless, or maybe we're just belligerent. Neither of us will be pushed around."
"That's why he's insisting on still coming here tomorrow?" Francine and Amanda were beginning to see why the various security agencies hadn't been able to stop the Congressman from holding his press conference at the clinic reception.
"It is." She nodded. "He's launching another fund-raising drive tomorrow for the clinic. We want to continue to make abortions available to anyone, regardless of their ability to pay. For that we have to raise funds all the time. We hope he can persuade donors that we wouldn't ordinarily reach. If he doesn't go ahead with the press conference, they win. The bomb threat actually gives us more publicity."
Amanda's face showed her concern. "You're both taking a big risk. If they back up their threats with a bomb at the clinic this time, all your lives will be in danger. The patients too."
"We've informed the clients. Some have chosen to stay away, but some refuse to bow to the pressure. As long as they wish to come, we'll continue to operate. We all know the risks."
"That's a brave stance to take," said Amanda.
"Some would say stupid." Catherine smiled. "Have you been to see Daddy yet?"
Francine responded, "That's our next stop."
"Well, good luck. He doesn't think highly of the security services."
"No? Why's that?"
"Oh." She laughed. "Probably because they won't let him do half the things he wants to."
"Hmm. His file reads that he's a bit of a maverick?"
"Let's just say he likes to do things his way," Catherine answered. "One time, he handcuffed two of his security team to the fence outside of his office. He said he had an important meeting." She paused. "He wanted to go and see the latest Indiana Jones movie and they said he couldn't. Of course, he did bring them back popcorn."
Amanda stifled a chuckle and Francine glared at her partner. "At least we've got advanced warning, Francine. Thanks for the heads up, Catherine."
"Good luck," she returned.
~~SMK~~
Monday 20 July, 12:45pm
Francine and Amanda were seated before Congressman Wile's desk at his Capitol Hill office. The conversation was not going well.
"Congressman, don't you think it would be safer for everyone if you didn't hold your press conference at the clinic?" asked Amanda.
"Of course it would be safer. But it would also make me look weak. All of us, in fact. It would show that a simple little device was enough to put a stop to us providing a basic freedom."
"It was hardly a simple little device, Congressman," interjected Amanda. "If it had gone off, it could have killed you."
The Congressman deflected her words with a wave of his hand. "A minor detail and it didn't. I'm doing my press conference and I'm doing it from the clinic. If you…people can't handle that, maybe you're in the wrong business."
"It's not that we can't handle it," said Francine, a little defensively. "We prefer to minimize risks. You're just exacerbating a volatile situation."
"Tough. Get over it. We go ahead."
Francine decided it was time to play hardball. "We could order you not to do it."
Congressman Wile laughed, then glared at Francine. "You're at liberty to try," he said coldly. "Do you like popcorn?" The temperature of the room seemed to drop at least ten degrees.
Amanda stepped in. "Congressman. We're not saying you can't go ahead with the conference, we just want to make sure that everyone is safe. You, the clinic patients, your daughter." Amanda mentioned Catherine pointedly.
"Catherine can take care of herself. She's cut from the same cloth."
"Yes, you're both stubborn," said Francine sharply.
"Francine," interrupted Amanda, "that's not helping."
"Oh, that's okay," spoke the Congressman. "I like a lady who speaks her mind." He smiled an empty politician's smile in her direction. "So, I'm assuming I can leave security in the hands of the various agencies, right? Leave it to the professionals?"
Francine was obviously riled by his tone. "Yes, Congressman. You do your job and we'll do ours."
"Good, then I'm sure it'll be fine." He stood up, indicating that this meeting was obviously over.
As they left the Congressman's office, Francine turned to Amanda. "Well wasn't he Mr. Charm?" She rolled her eyes. "Now I know why someone wants to blow him up."
"Fran-cine!!" Amanda could think of nothing else to say to that.
~~SMK~~
Monday 20 July, 1:25pm
"Fowl Play?" asked Francine, her disdain obvious. They were looking up at a sign on the roof of a large, single-story building. The two letter 'l's were in the shape of bowling pins that were painted to look like chicken drumsticks.
"Does it really matter, Francine?" Amanda sighed.
"No," mouthed Francine, silently, while shaking her head. She waved with her hand that they should continue inside.
They arrived at the shoe rental counter. Behind the counter stood an obviously bored, pimple-faced youth wearing a 'chicken-head' hat, an open beak as the front visor. His jaw moved back and forth as he chewed gum while leaning forward onto the counter. "Size?" he asked, the effort almost too much for him.
Francine glared at Amanda. "Give him your shoes," Amanda said firmly.
Horrified, Francine responded, "No way! I'm not wearing those! They're hideous – they don't even match my outfit! Nowhere in my contract does it say I have to wear other people's shoes. I'm not going to do it!"
"You have to!"
"But these are $75 shoes. You want me to leave them with him?" she spat out the last word. "Forget it."
Amanda was losing her patience and her mild-mannered demeanor. "Fran-cine. We have to meet Augie, right?"
"Yes, but I don't see-"
Amanda interrupted, "And to do that, we have to bowl. This is a bowling alley, Francine. And what is it that normal people do in a bowling alley? They bowl. So, put on the shoes!"
"But thousands of strange, horrible feet have been in these shoes."
"Look around you. I don't think they've had that many customers – it's like a library in here. I doubt that more than a couple hundred feet have been in them and probably some of them even wore socks." She smirked.
"And that's supposed to make me feel better?"
"No," argued Amanda. "It's supposed to make you put on the shoes!"
"I don't like this," Francine said angrily. She grabbed the shoes from the guy at the counter, laced them up and muttered, "Billy's gonna get a piece of my mind when I get back to the office…"
Amanda set off to their lane, taking her ball out of her bag. She was glad she had her own bowling shoes.
Twenty minutes later, Amanda was getting annoyed at Francine. "I guess you and Lee went to the same bowling school, huh, Francine?"
"What?"
"You're not bowling. You have to bowl. You look ridiculous just sitting there. This is a bowling alley and I'm having déjà vu."
"You're what?"
"Lee brought me bowling. You remember when the Agency went into Operation Possum? Well, I had one heck of a time getting him to bowl. Then it turned out he was a natural."
"Oh, he was, was he? Well, I'll show you who's a natural." She stood up and took a ball off the rack. "I'd better not break a nail doing this." She stepped up on the lane and saw the chicken footprints leading up to the line. She rolled her eyes. "Give me a break!"
"What?" asked Amanda.
"Have you seen these?" Francine pointed at the footprints. "Who is running this place?"
Amanda sighed. "Francine, stop procrastinating and throw the ball."
Francine's approach lacked style; she released the ball with two hands. The ball slowly rolled about halfway down the lane until it teetered off into the gutter. Amanda fought to muffle a chuckle. Without turning around, Francine said, "If there is so much as a smirk on your face when I turn around, I'll-"
"You'll what, Francine?" Amanda was fighting her mirth. "Maybe you should've followed the footprints?"
"A-man-da!" Francine snarled.
"Francine, you get another shot." This time Francine was determined. She took a ball, stepped up to the line and released the ball. It rolled a little farther down the lane this time before it clunked into the gutter again. Francine wasn't happy about it. "Would you like me to give you some pointers?" Amanda asked.
Francine turned around to face Amanda. "Sure. But if word of this gets around, I'll have to kill you. You know that, right?"
"I know that, Francine. My lips are sealed." She mimed locking her mouth shut and throwing away the key.
~~SMK~~
They were still playing forty-five minutes later. Unsurprisingly, Amanda was winning – she was the PTA's MVP last year, after all, but the margin was narrowing.
"Is this guy ever going to get here, Amanda? He will be here, won't he? After all I've gone through this afternoon?"
"He'll be here, Francine. He may be a little flaky, but he usually comes through with the goods for Lee. No reason to think otherwise this time."
"So where is he?" Francine asked, testily. "If we're here much longer I'm going to have to burn these clothes. My dry cleaner will never be able to get the stench of fried chicken out of them."
"Trust me, Francine. He'll be here."
~~SMK~~
"Strike!" Amanda turned to look at Francine, unable to suppress the smug smile on her face. That was her eighth strike of the day. Suddenly, her eye was caught as a molting six-foot chicken walked across the bowling alley.
Francine followed her gaze and nodded towards the big bird, wearing a 'Fowl Play' bowling shirt. "Friend of yours?"
Amanda studied the approaching example of human poultry. "Augie?"
"Hey! Mrs. King!" yelled the chicken. His 'wing' did a little wave thing. As he reached them he continued, "How's it goin'? Who's the dish?" He ogled Francine.
Giving him an icy glare, she said, "No one you'll ever know."
"Well, brr…it suddenly got real cold in here." He addressed Amanda, "What's with her? I was just being friendly."
"She's just not a bowling fan, Augie." Amanda made introductions, "Francine, this is Augie Swann; Augie, this is Francine."
"Good to lay eyes on ya, Franny." Augie smiled, waiting for Francine's reaction. There was none. "Lay…get it?" Still nothing. "Tough crowd."
Amanda asked, "So do you have the information? And why are you dressed like that?"
Augie struggled to squeeze the suit into the bench to sit down next to Francine. Francine moved as far away as possible.
"Business is bad," said Augie.
"We saw," Amanda sympathized.
"Seems no one wants to go Chicken Bowling."
"Who'd'a thought," interjected Francine, sarcastically.
Augie gave her a withering look. He carried on. "I mean, business picked up a little after we stopped using egg-shaped balls…"
"Oh, Augie." Amanda placed a comforting hand on his wing.
"Anyway, this is my last attempt to get it off the ground." He thrust a flyer into Amanda's hand.
"Bowl and a bucket, five dollars," read Amanda. She arched an eyebrow in Augie's direction. "You think this will work?"
"If it doesn't work, I'm walking!" responded Augie.
"Waddling more like," came the next barb from Francine.
"Ducks waddle, Francine. Augie's a chicken," responded Amanda.
"That's what I heard."
"Hey! I'm right here!"
Francine jumped in again. "Your point being?"
He flinched at the verbal assault. Realization suddenly dawned on Augie. "She's the one Lee told me about. I knew the name was familiar. He was right."
"Right about what?" asked Francine. "Lee said what?" At Francine's glare, Augie blanched. He quickly stood up and retreated behind Amanda, seeking her protection. As Amanda turned to face him, he rifled inside the costume. He pulled out a brown envelope. "Here." He thrust the envelope into her hand, a few more feathers dropped from the chicken suit as he moved. She opened the flap and looked inside to see photographs of two men and a couple of pages of data.
She gave him back a smaller envelope. "Here's what we agreed." She turned to her partner. "Come on, Francine, let's go…unless you want to finish the game?"
Francine almost ran to the shoe counter, the shoes already held tentatively in the tips of her fingers.
"Thanks, Mrs. King. Stop by anytime. You can bowl free whenever you want…as long as you don't bring her."
"Well…er, thanks Augie. Maybe I'll do that." She didn't sound convincing.
Suddenly, they were interrupted by a high-pitched, "You did WHAT!!!!?"
"Gotta, go, Augie. I guess you'd better make yourself scarce. She has a gun you know, and she's not afraid to use it." She laughed. She'd never seen a guy in a chicken suit run so fast, feathers flying all around him. She walked over to a very angry Francine. "You screamed?"
Red-faced, Francine said, "This guy says he doesn't have my shoes!"
"What?" asked Amanda. The attendant shook his head sheepishly at Amanda, whose smirk was back. "You're kidding. Tell me you're kidding."
"No," said the guy, weakly, looking very nervous. Amanda smiled.
"This isn't funny, Amanda," said Francine, testily.
"Oh, I know." She held her hand over her mouth, but she couldn't hide the sparkle in her eyes. "Looks like you'll have to wear them then." She indicated the bowling shoes Francine had placed on the counter.
"I'd rather go barefoot."
"Well, if you'd rather," Amanda agreed. "But we've got to get moving so come on." Francine looked at the floor, then at the shoes, then back at the floor, weighing up her options. "Well?" Francine was still internally debating her dilemma. "I'm leaving now so you'd better hurry up and make your choice." She headed toward the door.
Francine bent to put the shoes back on and set off in pursuit of her partner. "All right, all right, I'm coming. Amanda! Can we stop at the store on the way back to the office? I need to get some bleach. I'm going to have to soak my feet for a week." She was talking to herself; Amanda was already in the parking lot.
As she got to the door Francine stopped – a striking realization having hit her. They don't have any customers. They couldn't have lost my shoes. "That attendant! I'm going to kill him. He must have done it on purpose." She turned around toward the counter but the attendant was nowhere in sight. "Hmph!" exclaimed Francine. She turned and followed Amanda out of the door.
~~SMK~~
Monday 20 July, 3:55pm
As Amanda and Francine crossed the bullpen, wolf whistles rang out as the various observant agents spotted Francine's footwear. Beaman appeared from nowhere. "Cool shoes, Francine. Are they new?" He winked.
"Can it, Beaman," Francine returned. "Or you'll feel their imprint on your butt as you fly across the room."
Beaman took a sharp intake of breath. "Oh, Francine, that's soo harsh." He reached for his heart. "I'm wounded."
"You soon will be!" She took a step toward him and he retreated behind a partition, his hands in the air in submission.
"Jeez! What's with these guys today?" Francine asked Amanda angrily.
"Why are you so hard on Efraim?" asked Amanda. "He's a nice guy."
"Nice? Nice!!? Don't you remember the Christmas party? I couldn't get him off me."
"We-e-ll…he was drunk." Amanda smirked.
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, nothing." Amanda raised her hands too. "I just meant that you could do worse to than have a friend like Efraim."
"Efraim? A friend? Hell, is that what I've sunk to?"
"That's not nice, Francine. You can never have too many friends, you know."
"Not nice? Good. I don't feel nice. I feel violent, especially after the day I've had." She paused for a second as though formulating an idea, then spoke again. "On second thought… Efraim!" Francine called. Fortunately for him, he was out of earshot.
"Fran-cine!" admonished Amanda.
"Desmond! Stetson! Get in here!" Billy was standing in his office doorway making a performance of looking at his watch.
"Coming, sir!" said Amanda.
"About time." Noticing Francine's footwear, he continued sarcastically, "I do hope I'm not keeping you from something more important?"
"No."
"Good. Great shoes Francine. New fashion?"
"Agghhh! - Men!"
The agents in the bullpen looked toward the Section Chief's office as they heard Billy's laugh ring out, then it muffled as he turned and shut the door behind him.
After Billy had finally stopped laughing, he looked at the two women in his office. Francine's face was still red, though whether from anger or embarrassment it was too hard to tell. "Well, ladies," he asked, "did you get anything useful?"
Amanda handed the envelope Augie had given her to Billy and he emptied it out onto his desk. Amanda and Francine stood either side of him as he flipped through the pictures. Amanda looked to her partner. "Francine, you read the notes Augie gave us, do you want to explain?"
"Sure." Francine pointed to the first photo. "That's Hal Stark. He's the leader," Francine continued. "'Rights of the Unborn seem to have hired him on occasion to do the less legal work of their operation, if you know what I mean."
Billy nodded. "Who's the other guy?"
"That's his cousin, Ricky Ford," Amanda supplied. "He's worked with Stark on several jobs. They don't seem to have a standard MO, though."
"No, it seems they usually act on pretty short notice, using whatever's available at the time. Stark seems to have some kind of hold over some pretty influential people. Our guys haven't been able to get anyone to talk. Yet."
The women walked around to the other side of the desk and sat down.
"Are we sure these are the right guys?" asked Billy.
"Yes," said Amanda and Francine simultaneously.
"Augie said he was sure his informants had the correct information. That's why he was so late getting the information to us."
"I thought it was because he was getting the chicken suit dry-cleaned," interjected Francine. Billy raised an eyebrow and Amanda sighed. "Doesn't matter."
"So, we need to get as much information on these guys as we can," suggested Billy. "Get Clarkson and Fielder working on it. Background, contacts, anything they can dig up. Tell 'em to work all night if necessary. They can present what they find at the briefing in the morning."
"Right." The women spoke as one.
Amanda and Francine exchanged a glance and grinned at the way they had so rapidly become a team. Billy leaned back in his chair and grinned too. "I knew I was right to put you two together. I am sooo good at this job," he laughed. Amanda and Francine rolled their eyes.
"Yeah, that's right, Billy," agreed Francine. "You're our fearless leader." They all laughed.
"Well, I guess you need to speak to Fielder and the guys, then head on out to Rockville to follow-up with the Congressman. After that, the evening's all yours," said Billy.
"What?" asked Francine. "But I have a date-"
"The date can wait," Billy interrupted.
Francine glared at her boss. "Yes, but I expect the opera won't."
"Oh, which one?" enquired Amanda.
"La Traviata. It's on at the Kennedy, but it's only in town for one night. It's on a national tour. Lord Bingham was taking me."
"Fran-cine! If you talk less, you'll be done sooner," Billy said firmly.
"Okay, okay. So, Billy, why on earth do we have to go back and see that…that…er…." For once Francine was at a loss for words.
"That strong-willed gentleman is what I think she's trying to say, sir," Amanda added helpfully.
"I was thinking more of arrogant jerk, actually."
"Oh."
"So, why are we going back there?"
"To show him the photos of these two." Billy indicated the photos on his desk. "See if he recognizes anyone. And to try once again to convince him to stay away from the clinic tomorrow. That would make our lives much easier."
"Billy, we tried," said Francine, sounding a little whiny about her disrupted evening. "What else can we possibly say?"
"Francine. I'm sure you can charm him into a raincheck. How could he possibly ignore your dulcet tones?" Billy smirked.
Amanda chuckled and Francine glared at her. Then she switched her glare to Billy. "But Billy-"
Billy held up his hand to cut her off. "I don't wanna hear it. Get over there and work your magic." He indicated the door with his finger.
Francine stood up. "I'm going, I'm going. But, don't say I didn't tell you it was a total waste of time, Billy Melrose."
As Francine and Amanda left through Billy's office door, he called after her, "Don't worry, Francine. I'm sure Lord Bingham can find someone else to accompany him to the opera. I hear this production is a masterpiece."
~~SMK~~
Monday 20 July, 6:30pm
"I can't believe Billy is making us go back to see the Congressman. You will make sure I don't shoot him, won't you Amanda?"
Amanda laughed and looked across at her partner. "You are kidding, aren't you Francine?"
"I haven't decided yet," Francine replied. "It's a good thing I had a spare pair of shoes in my desk," said Francine as Amanda drove towards the Congressman's house.
"Lucky they matched your outfit too, hmm?"
"Okay, okay, so I have seventeen spare pairs of shoes in my desk."
"Fran-cine!"
"Well, you never know. A good agent has to be prepared."
"What crisis is ever going to warrant the need for seventeen pairs of shoes? I don't think I even own seventeen pairs of shoes."
"However do you manage?" asked Francine, genuinely.
~~SMK~~
Monday 20 July, 7:05pm
"Now what?" The Congressman was obviously not pleased to see them again.
"Congressman Wile," Amanda placated. "We just need to follow up on some information we've obtained this afternoon."
"What is it?"
~~SMK~~
Monday 20 July, 8:15pm
After they left the Congressman's mansion, Amanda stopped and turned to look at Francine. "I can't believe you just did that!"
"What?" asked Francine, in feigned innocence.
"Agreed to go out with him. I thought you wanted to kill him before we went in?"
"Well, yes, but he kind of grows on you." She grinned.
"Ya think?" Amanda rolled her eyes. They began walking towards the car.
"Okay, okay, so his season tickets for the Kennedy grew on me. He can't be that bad with those!" Amanda looked disbelieving and Francine winked. "You just have to get used to his manner," Francine continued.
Amanda shook her head. "Whatever are we gonna do with you?"
"Look, Amanda. I bought a new dress for tonight, and now I'm not going to get the chance to wear it. If a distinguished-looking, mansion-owning Congressman from California wants to buy me an expensive dinner and take me to the opera tomorrow, who am I to discourage him?" Amanda could see the glint in her eyes as she looked at her partner across the roof of the Jeep.
"Francine, you're incorrigible."
Francine grinned again. "I know. Must be my amazing combination of charm and natural beauty that makes me so hard to resist."
"Get in," said a deadpan Amanda. "Unless you need me to get the door for you?" She smiled artificially at Francine who bent to get into the car.
"No, no, it's fine. I'll manage."
Amanda coughed. "You bet you will," she muttered under her breath.
Francine looked back up. "Did you say something?"
"No, no, no," replied Amanda as the two women sat down in the car.
~~SMK~~SMK~~SMK~~