ELLIS
ASSISTANT TO THE UNDERSECRETARY OF THE UNDERSECRETARY OF THE SECRETARY OF THE ASSISTANT TO THE DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE HOMELAND SECURITY
NEW ORLEANS, LA
Re: progress report stats
(to be filed under field notes, personal, only )
Textiles which originated with Marie Despré to be seized for suspicion of acting as a method of smuggling diamonds. Textiles include but are not limited to: purses, belts, shoes, and accessories. Please note that suspect’s other hobbies include sculptural art—al1 known pieces are to be searched, galleries plus private collections. Various offices around the country, including FBI, tasked to help.
Cam drove away from his mom’s house where Stacey had managed to shove two chocolate chip cookies into her mouth before she’d been there one whole minute. She was such a determined little kid, he just prayed that whatever she decided to do when she grew up was legal. He hated to think about the damage someone with Bobbie Faye’s genes could do if she actually
planned
it.
The radio crackled with officers finally on the scene at Ce Ce’s. The gunmen, whoever they were, had begun shooting after Francesca had entered the store. Given Francesca’s dad’s mob ties, this could not bode well for Bobbie Faye, though Bobbie Faye seemed to have gone willingly. The officer called in a “last reported sighting” location and the direction the witnesses believed Bobbie Faye had driven away. Cam spun his car, stomping the gas. There was a chance—a small chance—he could intercept them and find out what the hell was going on.
If Bobbie Faye’s car had started on the first, or even the third try, Fluffy-head would have been stuck riding with the other cousins and Bobbie Faye could have had the few minutes’ ride to Marie’s to think through the day’s events. Instead, Francesca had made it to the car in time to join her and was now practically trying to levitate above the torn-and-duct-taped ICEE-stained seat in order to avoid touching anything.
“Bobbie Faye, you really need to get a new car. With leather seats. You should get leather for days like today when you’re cut and bleeding—leather wipes off easier.”
“Right, because the seats are the thing I should be worried about when I’m bleeding.”
“Just don’t let anyone Luminol them. Leather really isn’t ever the same after that, I don’t care what the detectives tell you.”
“You never really had a chance at a normal upbringing, either, did you?”
“We’re normal,” Francesca answered, hurt, her voice petulant.
“Frannie, anyone whose dad routinely heads out to the garage with an Uzi in one hand and a pistol in the other is not leading a normal life.”
“There were raccoons that tore up our trash. Daddy was just scaring them off. We’re
normal
.”
“Uh-huh. Three of the references you listed for your first job after college were in prison for organized crime.”
“Oooh, that was the job at Cosmetics Heaven! They loved me over there. I did the best makeovers,
ever
. I got so good, they gave me all of the hard cases.”
Bobbie Faye accelerated, weaving through the back streets, neatly avoiding the multitude of cop cars zooming toward Ce Ce’s. It was a sad commentary on her life that Bobbie Faye knew which side streets to take to accomplish this feat. She knew from the decibel level of the sirens that Benoit, Cam’s best friend, was leaving Rosie’s Diner four blocks away and heading her direction, and that he’d probably be biting into a shrimp po’boy with juice dripping down his chin, and forgetting to look to his left, where she passed by just a block away. She resisted waving to his profile as he did just that.
“You need a complete overhaul,” Francesca said, pushing a finger against Bobbie Faye’s cheek. “You have to do something about those pores. You could park a truck in there.”
Bobbie Faye had the sudden impulse that an animal in a trap would have: chew anything off just
ASSISTANT TO THE UNDERSECRETARY OF THE UNDERSECRETARY OF THE SECRETARY OF THE ASSISTANT TO THE DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE HOMELAND SECURITY
NEW ORLEANS, LA
Re: progress report stats
(to be filed under field notes, personal, only )
Textiles which originated with Marie Despré to be seized for suspicion of acting as a method of smuggling diamonds. Textiles include but are not limited to: purses, belts, shoes, and accessories. Please note that suspect’s other hobbies include sculptural art—al1 known pieces are to be searched, galleries plus private collections. Various offices around the country, including FBI, tasked to help.
Cam drove away from his mom’s house where Stacey had managed to shove two chocolate chip cookies into her mouth before she’d been there one whole minute. She was such a determined little kid, he just prayed that whatever she decided to do when she grew up was legal. He hated to think about the damage someone with Bobbie Faye’s genes could do if she actually
planned
it.
The radio crackled with officers finally on the scene at Ce Ce’s. The gunmen, whoever they were, had begun shooting after Francesca had entered the store. Given Francesca’s dad’s mob ties, this could not bode well for Bobbie Faye, though Bobbie Faye seemed to have gone willingly. The officer called in a “last reported sighting” location and the direction the witnesses believed Bobbie Faye had driven away. Cam spun his car, stomping the gas. There was a chance—a small chance—he could intercept them and find out what the hell was going on.
If Bobbie Faye’s car had started on the first, or even the third try, Fluffy-head would have been stuck riding with the other cousins and Bobbie Faye could have had the few minutes’ ride to Marie’s to think through the day’s events. Instead, Francesca had made it to the car in time to join her and was now practically trying to levitate above the torn-and-duct-taped ICEE-stained seat in order to avoid touching anything.
“Bobbie Faye, you really need to get a new car. With leather seats. You should get leather for days like today when you’re cut and bleeding—leather wipes off easier.”
“Right, because the seats are the thing I should be worried about when I’m bleeding.”
“Just don’t let anyone Luminol them. Leather really isn’t ever the same after that, I don’t care what the detectives tell you.”
“You never really had a chance at a normal upbringing, either, did you?”
“We’re normal,” Francesca answered, hurt, her voice petulant.
“Frannie, anyone whose dad routinely heads out to the garage with an Uzi in one hand and a pistol in the other is not leading a normal life.”
“There were raccoons that tore up our trash. Daddy was just scaring them off. We’re
normal
.”
“Uh-huh. Three of the references you listed for your first job after college were in prison for organized crime.”
“Oooh, that was the job at Cosmetics Heaven! They loved me over there. I did the best makeovers,
ever
. I got so good, they gave me all of the hard cases.”
Bobbie Faye accelerated, weaving through the back streets, neatly avoiding the multitude of cop cars zooming toward Ce Ce’s. It was a sad commentary on her life that Bobbie Faye knew which side streets to take to accomplish this feat. She knew from the decibel level of the sirens that Benoit, Cam’s best friend, was leaving Rosie’s Diner four blocks away and heading her direction, and that he’d probably be biting into a shrimp po’boy with juice dripping down his chin, and forgetting to look to his left, where she passed by just a block away. She resisted waving to his profile as he did just that.
“You need a complete overhaul,” Francesca said, pushing a finger against Bobbie Faye’s cheek. “You have to do something about those pores. You could park a truck in there.”
Bobbie Faye had the sudden impulse that an animal in a trap would have: chew anything off just
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