Chapter 41

Blue or pink? I couldn't decide on which color. Both dresses were beautiful, but I couldn't pick just one. I was back at Sandra's Boutique, trying to find a spy dress for the gala tomorrow. It seemed like such a waste to get a new dress when the only reason I was going to wear it was to have an excuse for Monroe to use his Blutbad talents. Surely I'd find another place to wear it some other time. My hand passed over a red dress that reminded me of Sylvia Trench's in Dr. No. I imagined showing up in that alongside Monroe in a tuxedo. A small grin passed my lips. Too bad it was red. No, back to the pink one… or perhaps maybe the blue? Hmm…

"Go with the blue one," said Sandra as she came up beside me. "That cut will look better on you."

"Thanks, Sandra. Do you have it in a…"

"Six?" she chimed in with a knowing smile. "Absolutely! Let me go grab one, so you can try it on."

She bounced off to the back room as I looked around some more. Another lady was perusing the clearance rack and I smiled at her as she picked up a red strapless dress. Ah, another red one. And it was absolutely gorgeous. Sometimes I really missed that color. But, that was fine. Red could stay in the back closet. She looked at the price-tag, let out a sigh, and her face contorted into a beaver. Her woge was brief, and she put the dress back as she retracted.

"Size six!" Sandra said as she emerged from the back. "Go try it on. You'll be pleased with this one."

I took it to the dressing room, and sure enough, Sandra was spot on. The long, sapphire blue dress was the perfect cut, and the floaty, layered fabric just added to the glamour. I redressed quickly and took my purchase up to the counter.

I cast Sandra a warm smile. "Blue wins."

"I'm in this business for a reason. I know what looks good." Her squirrel features sprung out from her round face and I nodded at her.

"So, will I be seeing you at the gala tomorrow?"

"Not this one. I've been busy with dress schedules. We're coming up on the busier months for weddings, so I've been working with dealers for bridesmaid dress lines instead of painting. It's been crazy. But the next gala I'll be there. Let me know how Johnna's first gala goes, okay? I'm curious how she's going to run things. I'm so used to Lydia."

"I heard she was doing interactive art?" I posed it as a question since I was still clueless what that meant.

"Interactive? Really?" She seemed surprised. "Well, that's not my style, of course, but it would be interesting to see."

"Umm, what is it exactly?"

"It could be a number of things. Some interactive art uses real people to act out their work, like a performance. Some of it is computerized, digital images, and some even incorporate video. It's really interesting to see what they come up with because the style has so many different variables."

"So how do they sell it?"

"Most don't. It's like they're trying to spread an idea or a message with their art," Sandra explained. "I'm sure some exhibits can be rented out, so there's still ways to make money with it." She shook her head. "It's not my way of expression, but it's really nifty to see what others do with it."

"I'll miss seeing you there." There weren't too many people I knew at these things, so familiar faces were always nice. At least I had Natalie.

"I'll be at the next one as long as she goes back to displaying paintings."

Price-Tag Lady was standing behind me, waiting patiently. I said a quick goodbye to Sandra so she could take care of her.

After shopping, I stopped in at a sandwich shop next door and grabbed some lunch. I ought to be doing work instead of shopping. But I was mostly ahead; just some minor details were needed on the next training. My mind was focused on other things like Waschbars and galas. Hopefully with the large, open room Monroe could determine if Natalie was Wesen. Maybe he could even tell if Johnna wore Chanel No. 5. If Monroe could clear Natalie's name, that was worth going to the gala. Her alibi couldn't be confirmed and that worried me. Granted, Nick had nothing to connect her to the theft either, or she wouldn't have been allowed to leave. But that she could be… Well, I just had to know if it was a possibility. As for Johnna, Nick had said her alibi, while not ironclad, was more justifiable than Natalie's. He wouldn't tell me much more than that when I'd called him earlier today. Monroe would figure it out. Monroe's nose was better than any alibi.

As I was finishing up, I felt eyes on me and looked toward the sandwich shop window. Nothing out of the ordinary. I shook it off and headed back to my car.

On the drive home I listened to Goyte's 'Smoke and Mirrors.'

"You're a fraud and you know it,
But it's too good to throw it all away.
But it's always been a smoke and mirrors game.
Anyone would do the same…"

Was Natalie playing out some charade? Was it all just a game to her? I couldn't imagine her being a thief, or even Wesen for that matter. But in this world there was deceit around every corner. Things weren't always what they appeared to be.

As I turned left on Northwest Gilsan Street, a glimpse of an orange truck in the rearview mirror caught my eye. It was behind me on West Burnside Street, too. When I turned again on Northwest 23rd Avenue, the truck followed. Were they following me? No, I was just being paranoid. Many people drove this path. When I finally turned on my street, the truck was still behind me. I pulled into my driveway while watching my rearview. The truck drove on by. See, just paranoia. I shook my head and went inside.

I placed my dress in the closet and took out my notes for my training tomorrow. Something still felt off. I stood from the couch and peeked out my window. The orange truck had returned and was parked across the street from my house. No, this wasn't a coincidence anymore. I pulled out my phone and called Monroe.

"Hey. I wasn't expecting to hear from you until later this evening," Monroe said.

"Are you busy?" I asked.

"What's wrong?" he instinctively responded. I told him about the orange truck and how it had followed me.

"It's parked across the street from me, and it may be nothing but…"

"Say no more. I'll be there in ten minutes. Stay in the house." He hung up before I could reply.

I remained fixated near the window. Was it a man or woman in the truck? I couldn't make out the face from here. Perhaps I oughta get the license plate. Police ran plate numbers all the time on those cop shows. Leaning in closer to the window, I squinted to make out the plate, but it was too far away.

Ignoring Monroe's advice, I opened the front door to get a better look. As my foot hit the last step, the truck sped off. Fortunately, I caught the license plate numbers before it had gotten too far away. I went back inside and jotted it down on my notepad.

My nerves were all jittery and I trembled as I double checked the front door lock. Who or what was following me? I had too much on my mind to add something else. Clearing my thoughts, I sat back down on my couch and focused on work as I hummed 'Somebody's Watching Me.'

"I always feel like somebody's watchin' me,
And I have no privacy.
Oh, oh, oh, I always feel like somebody's watchin' me.
Who's playin' tricks on me?"

Whoever it was, they were gone… for now.

Shortly after there was a loud knock on my door. I jumped up and checked the peephole. It was Monroe. Thank goodness.

I opened the door and he looked me over. "So where is this truck? I didn't see anything orange parked anywhere."

"They drove off not too long after I got off the phone with you. I'm sorry, maybe it wasn't anything." I purposely failed to mention they drove off after I'd gone outside.

"But you said they followed you home?"

I nodded. "They were behind me when I left on Southwest Ash Street, so that's a good seven turns to my house."

"Let's call Nick just to be safe." Monroe paced the floor a bit. "It just doesn't sound good to me." It didn't sound good to me, either.

"I hate to bug him if it's nothing."

"No, you go on and bug him," Monroe coaxed as he gestured his hands out. "If it's nothing then it won't hurt anything, you know?"

I pulled out my cell and dialed Nick's number while Monroe kept close watch at the window.

"Burkhardt," Nick said sharply into the receiver.

"Hey, it's Renée."

"Everything all right?"

"Well, maybe. Maybe not. I think I may have been followed home." I told Nick the same story of the orange truck. "I got the license plate number, if that helps."

"Was it an orange Ford truck?" Nick asked.

"It could've been. I'm really not sure."

"What's the plate number?"

I reached for my notepad on the coffee table. "It was an Oregon license plate, 734 BFU."

Nick was silent a moment. "Let me call you back here in a minute, okay?"

"Sure, that's fine."

Monroe turned as I hung up the phone. "You got their plate number?"

I sat down on the couch. "Well, yeah. Isn't that what you're supposed to do?"

"Yeah. I didn't even think about the plate number until you said you had it."

"I watch too much TV." I gave him a half-smile.

"Well, if Starsky and Hutch keeps you safe, then so much the better."

I laughed. He could always make me laugh. "I'm not watching Starsky and Hutch. That was cancelled ages ago."

"Shows you how much I keep track of what's on television, huh?"

The phone rang again. It was Nick. That was fast.

"Sorry, I had to go someplace where I could talk," said Nick in a whisper.

"So, were you able to run the plate?"

"Didn't have to. I know the truck you saw today."

"You do?"

Monroe moved over toward me. "He does, what?"

I put the phone on speaker. "Yeah, it belongs to an Eisbiber. I had a talk with them well over a month ago when they did the same thing at my house," said Nick as he grumbled into the phone. "You haven't had anyone over to work on your refrigerator, have you?"

"No, my fridge is fine. What does that have to do with an Eisbiber?"

Nick told me about Bud the repairman and how he'd fled Nick's house when he'd realized he was working on a Grimm's fridge. Juliette had spotted an orange truck outside their house, taking pictures. After driving to the truck owner's house, he'd confronted two Eisbiber about spreading the word a Grimm was in town. This story sounded very familiar.

"I don't know how they found you and why they're right back to spying again," Nick sighed loudly. "I'll just have to drive over there and have another talk with them before they start egging your house."

"Egging my house?"

"Yeah, these Eisbiber kids coated our windows, sunny-side up."

"Great." I sighed into the phone. Just what I needed to clean up.

"It takes time for chickens to make those," said Monroe. "Don't kids learn that in school?"

"Maybe that missed that class," I replied, refraining from grinning in case he was serious.

"So, this Eisbiber…" I said to Nick, who surprisingly hadn't retorted to Monroe's remark. "Did he think he barely got out alive when he ran off?"

"Yeah, sounds about right. Why?"

"I think I know how the Eisbiber community knows about me. I'll call you back." I hung up the phone before Nick asked any questions.

Monroe sat on the couch next to me. "How do they know about you?"

"Two words," I sighed as I shook my head. "Sewing circle."

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

I dialed Sandra's business number.

"Hi, Renée. Umm, something wrong with the dress?" she asked nervously.

"No the dress is fine. But I need to ask, have you said anything to anyone about my little secret?"

She gulped on the other end. I took that as a 'yes.'

"Sandra, please tell me you didn't."

"Well, I really didn't mean to. The lady that was behind you… Well, that was the one I'd talked to before about the male Grimm that was spotted. You remember me telling you about that?"

"Yes, I remember. Go on."

"Well, she was talking to me about the Grimm again, how she and her husband actually followed him home, but then the Grimm's girlfriend had followed her back to her house. She was afraid for her and her children's lives. Then her husband and the other Eisbiber… You know, the one who'd been in the Grimm's house? Well, they were confronted by the Grimm again, and the Grimm promised he wasn't going to kill any of them if they promised to leave him alone. Well, she didn't believe it when they told her about what had happened. She told me she still thinks that a Grimm is gonna murder her family." Sandra took in a breath. She'd been talking nonstop. "So that's when I told her that Grimms aren't all bad and there's good ones out there, too. So then she wanted to know why I'd think such a thing, and then I mentioned I knew one. So then she asked if it was the same guy, and I told her it was a woman. So then she didn't believe me, and I said… Well, I told her it was you." She heaved out another breath and a few chattering noises came out. Clearly she was having a woge from the sound of it.

"Oh, Sandra."

So, it had been Price-Tag Lady who was stalking me. She was probably watching me at the sandwich shop, too. I really needed to listen to my instincts more often. I wasn't as paranoid as I thought.

"Renée, I am so incredibly sorry! Please don't be angry!" She was making more chattering noises along with a few clicks mixed in, which reminded me of Chloe. "The next dress you pick out is totally on me. Will you forgive me?"

I turned to Monroe, who was shaking his head at me. He had been right. A Nussesser just couldn't be trusted. They were chit-chatters.

"Yeah, I forgive you, but please try to refrain from telling anyone else. That lady followed me home and scared the crap out of me."

"Oh, golly! She did?"

"Yeah, and I almost called the police on her." Well, actually I had called the police on her. And she was probably going to get a personal visit from him, but Sandra didn't need to know that.

"Renée, oh, I am so sorry. I had no idea she'd actually follow you. Well, maybe I should've since she said she'd followed that other Grimm, but I was trying to let her know that you all aren't terrible people like we were brought up to believe. I really was trying to help, honestly I was."

"I know you meant well, but let's just keep from talking about it going forward, okay? Even if they talk bad about Grimms, just let it be."

"I will. I promise. Thank you for not being upset. And I mean it. Your next dress is free!"

Monroe shook his head at me as I hung up with Sandra.

I let out a sigh. "You can go on and say it."

"I don't think I really have to, do I?"

I rested my head on his shoulder. "If Natalie is Wesen, I'm not saying a word."

Monroe patted my back. "Good idea."

A/N: The Eisbiber community is back to stalking again. Guess Monroe was right, Sandra was a chatty Cathy after all.