The Girl in the Mob — Part Two
The FBI’s Proposition
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The three FBI agents had not exactly forced Deborah Barnes into the black SUV, but joining them had not been her idea. Now, they were taking her for a ride and she had no idea where they were going.
Rain pelted the roof. The windshield wipers swished back and forth. The SUV pulled away from the curb. Deborah swallowed hard. She could think of nothing she had done to run afoul of the law. It must be Linda, she silently thought. Linda, her roommate, did use drugs, but only recreationally. Even if the lawmen had confused the two young women, what could Linda have done to attract the attention of the FBI?
“Of course not. Relax, Miss Barnes, you are not in any trouble,” the first man said. “There is something you can help us with, in our investigation.”
“Can I see your badge again?” she asked.
He handed it to her, and she studied it — Special Agent David Signals. She had no idea what a real FBI badge looked like, but this appeared to be official. She handed it back.
“What investigation?” she asked.
After driving only a few blocks, they pulled to the curb in front of a Starbucks. A fourth man entered the front passenger seat. He was carrying a cardboard tray with four cups of coffee. As the SUV pull back into the stream of traffic, the new man passed out the coffees.
“A caramel macchiato, just like you like it,” the first man, Agent Signals, said, handing Deborah one of the cups.
She said nothing; however, their demonstration of exactly how well they knew her had been noted. Holding the warm cup between her hands was somehow comforting. She inhaled the familiar, sweet aroma. The car passed the Empire State Building and joined the flow of traffic heading towards the Queens Midtown Tunnel.
“Where are you taking me?” She tried one more time to gain information from them.
Agent Signals drew in a breath. He released a heavy sigh, and said, “There is nothing to worry about, Miss Barnes.” He smiled. “You really did have a great performance tonight.”
And I was afraid of stalkers, she mused. “What does that mean? Why are watching me?” she asked.
“We want to get to know you. You are from a place called Billings, Montana — whatever that is. You attended the University of Colorado for two years, and then got a scholarship to NYU. After three years, you graduated with a degree in applied theater. Since then, you’ve had a variety of parts in Off- Broadway productions, and you work as a waitress at the Stardust Diner. Quite illegally, you still have a Montana driver’s license. You share a one-bedroom, third story walkup apartment in Greenwich Village with Linda Grant, but you are not a lesbian.”
“All right, enough. I get it.”
“I am sorry for our own little theatrical production here, but I wanted to make certain you understood how serious we are.”
“I understand that!”
“Good. We need your unique skills. Your government would like to have your assistance in the pursuit of real life gangsters.” He paused and waited for her eyes to focus on his. “The only thing necessary for evil to triumph is for good women to do nothing.” He smiled.
“That’s not exactly what Burke said,” Deborah countered.
“But, you get my point. We are closing in on some evil men, and we need a good woman to take action — to help us.”
“Surely, the FBI has a complete staff ready to jump into this situation.”
“If we had the luxury of time, of course. But, we need someone with your skills and background immediately.”
“Immediately?”
“Yes, tonight.”
The rain abruptly stopped as the SUV entered the tunnel. The driver switched off the windshield wipers. The lights inside the tunnel illuminated the faces of the four men with a ghostly, yellowish light.
“Where are we going?”
“Brooklyn.”
Deborah didn’t drive in the city, but she surmised this path, while much longer than a drive along FDR Drive, would have much lighter traffic; thus, it could be the fastest way to Brooklyn. She sipped the warm coffee. The thick, creamy sweetness soothed her throat.
“What, exactly, do you want me to do?” His mysterious approach had piqued her curiosity.
“Ah, first off, let me thank you, on behalf of your government. Your service will be invaluable, I assure you. And, you will be in no danger. We have an agent deep undercover with a specific crime family — much like the one in your play.” Agent Signals chuckled, as though he had told a joke, but Deborah found there to be nothing funny about the experience of being kidnapped by the FBI. He continued, “Our agent has gained the trust of the mobsters, and has been invited to a ‘gathering’.” He used his fingers to place quotes in the air as he spoke the last word. “Unfortunately, he needs a girlfriend, and we have no one available who could pass vetting by these gangsters.”
“Vetting?”
“They are not going to research your background. They already know who you are. Your play is popular with the mob. I’ve seen your performance several times while I was following some of these gangsters.” He held her stare again. “Everyone already knows you.”
“Jesus!” Deborah nearly dropped the coffee cup.
“That is, they know who Kate Wells is.” He smiled. “You have done an excellent job keeping your real name a secret. Hardly anyone at the theater knows Kate Wells is not your real name. This is very useful to us.”
“You want me to pretend to be the girlfriend of your agent so the gangsters will accept him into the crime family fold?”
“Exactly.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes. We need you to start tonight.”
“Start?”
“We expect your services will be required now and again.”
“What if I say, no?”
THE END of Part Two
Part Three, Deborah Goes Undercover
Copyright ©2023 by S. M. Revolinski All Rights Reserved
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