Chapter 8 – Dinner and a Show

Joss.

He called her Joss.

John had never done that before. The Auto Shop teacher paused in the darkness, letting the memory of his voice saying her name float over her, calming, yet thrilling her at the same time.

'Strangers in the night, two lonely people, we were strangers in the night…Up to the moment when we said our first hello…' – Joss smiled at Bear's singing that old Sinatra tune.

Standing there in the dark, looking into John's eyes, it was as if they were meeting for the first time, yet they had known each other forever.

Joss felt like she could say anything, tell John everything, and he would understand.

She also knew, even without asking, that he'd want to help.

For a moment, her heart soared at the thought of them working together, side by side, maybe even with Finch and Bear, too.

After all these years alone …

No. It was too dangerous, she thought. She couldn't bear it if John was to get hurt because of her.

John Reese was much more than just a friend, Joss finally admitted to herself.

It was time to talk, really talk, to him.

But she needed to deal with Quinn and Simmons first.

Joss squared her shoulders, striding towards the ruins of the old library.

The building had existed decades before the founding of Machine High and its small cramped spaces and antiquated mechanicals had turned the space into being little more than a storage facility, crammed full of old books, broken furniture and outdated equipment. Right before the demolition started, the Auto Shop teacher had taken her students on a tour of the site; as the building had been emptied, beautiful old murals had been revealed behind the rickety shelves and stacks of broken and discarded items.

Created during the Depression by the Public Works of Art Project* as a way to ensure the public that better times were ahead, the murals depicted different aspects of American life. An extensive set of paintings in the library along the main staircase and the wide balcony where Joss was standing now had depicted the evolution of the American automobile from its infancy, including the assembly line process.

But it wasn't those murals that drew Joss to the site tonight. It was one mural that she had glanced at during the tour, but not really paid attention to, even though her instincts, honed through her years as an interrogator and then as a detective, had sensed that there something very different about this painting.

It was depiction of a busy harbor scene, freighters and barges and tugs, bales of goods, love starved sailors and burly dockhands. Joss had noticed the mural at first because unlike the other murals, this one wasn't covered with dust and grime; at the time she chalked it up to murals being cleaned prior to their removal from the building, but now, casting her flashlight over the painting, she realized that not only had this mural been cared for, it had also been subtly altered.

There.

Those numbers, the same ones on the Bar None candy bars were there, carefully painted onto the side of one of the vessels. The work had been done so well, so intricately, that unless you knew what to look for, you never would have noticed the changes.

Joss stepped back, taking in the whole scene again. One number led you to information painted on a bale of goods, another to an address on a side of a warehouse, the third to an intricate password on a flag - it was all there, account numbers, passwords, points of contact, trade routes, everything Quinn used to create what she realized now was a vast criminal empire, hidden in plain sight.

The numbers that she had provided to Elias and Antonia were just the tip of the iceberg – once you had them, the rest all fell into place.

The Auto Shop teacher took out her phone, photographing the mural in sections, intent on getting every detail possible.

"Once a detective, always a detective."

Joss' blood ran cold as Patrick Simmons walked slowly up the stairs, followed by a group of men carrying tools and explosives. "The boss thought he might be able to get you to join us. You know how to think like a crook."

"That would never happen and you know it."

Simmons smiled coldly at her. "That's what I said to the boss, but that's why he's the boss - he thinks big."

Joss pointed at the mural. "The man with the plan." Come on, come on, she thought, just a little bit closer.

"Yeah, he figured it all out…I just…execute…it."

As they neared the top of the stairs, Joss suddenly leaped over the 20 foot high balcony. Graceful as a cat, she grabbed on to some scaffolding ten feet down and then dropped silently to the floor.

"Find her!" Simmons screamed, as Joss slipped into a dark corner.

She wasn't trying to get away. There were too many of them and it was more important that she get a warning out. A man like Simmons wouldn't care if he hurt or killed people with all those explosives.

There was the sound of curses, footsteps and cocked weapons as they got closer and closer.

Joss knew that she only had a few seconds.

Cursing herself for disabling her GPS earlier that evening, she re-enabled it, then sent a text. As the men approached, Joss knocked over a huge pile of debris, praying that the noise of it falling over would mask the sound of her smashing her phone. She tossed the phone into the collapsing pile, grabbed a two by four and darted to the back of the space to await her attackers.

The Auto Shop teacher fought furiously, but she was overwhelmed and captured.

"Don't hurt her too much – yet," Simmons commanded as she was searched, bound and gagged.

The Teacher's Union head smiled again when they couldn't find her phone. "You're smart, Ms. Carter, too smart." Simmons took a huge piece of chocolate from his pocket and smeared it on Joss' cheek. "If you figured this out, we need to find out what else you know - and who else you told. Can't wait to see what it will take to make you 'sing.'"

Her stomach roiled as he slowly licked her skin clean. "Dinner – and then a show. Take her away, boys."

Blood ran down Joss' face from a cut over her eye, as Simmons led her captors out of the building.

*In 1933, nearly $145 million in public funds was appropriated for the construction of federal buildings, such as courthouses, schools, libraries, post offices and other public structures across the United States. Under the direction of the PWAP, the agency oversaw the production of 15,660 works of art by 3,750 artists. If your town has a post office or other public building constructed during that period, they may have several of these beautiful murals adorning their walls. - Wikipedia

So, how could #JossCarterIsEternal week end w/o a cliffhanger? The next chapter will be posted on December 1.

Next, Three Men, (a Dog) and a Little Lady