25. Oatmeal CookiesA Chapter by Craig2591Chrissy finally finds out what's on the memory card that caused so much uproar.All Chrissy would tell the police when she arrived at the hospital was where they could pick up the Branković brothers and why they should be arrested. Then she clammed up and remained silent for the next two hours until her husband emerged from surgery and the doctors assured her that he was going to be okay and probably make a full recovery.
After that she sat down at a table with several men and women who all flashed various badges and ID cards at her and told them the whole story from start to finish. There were several times when they exchanged skeptical glances with each other as she related all the events that had happened, but she didn't care. She knew that once the evidence was collected - ballistic reports, witness statements, security cam images, cell phone records, etc - that it would all corroborate her story and they would have no choice but to believe everything she told them. She gave them vague, generic descriptions of Jonathon, Stefanie and Becka.
Emily sat nearby and watched a movie on someone's laptop. Chrissy steadfastly refused to allow them to question her until at least the next day so that she could have a chance to calm down and recover.
At 11pm she stood up and said, “Enough! I'm taking my daughter and going home for some badly needed peace and quiet. If you have anymore questions, you know where to find me. Call first!”
When they got back to the apartment, Chrissy locked the door behind her and she and Emily latched onto each other and held one another for the next half hour. Whenever it began to dawn on her just how close she had come to losing her husband and daughter she quickly pushed it out of her head. She knew that she would have to deal with those thoughts sooner or later, but... not yet... just not yet.
She finally said to Emily, “Go get into your PJs and I'll go to the kitchen and fix us a snack. You'll sleep with me tonight.” As Chrissy headed for the kitchen, her phone chirped. She didn't recognize the number but worried that it might be the hospital so she answered it. “Yeah?”
“Hello, Chrissy.”
“Jonathon!”
“I called to see how Ian is doing.”
“He'll be okay,” she answered, “The doctors say he should make a full recovery.”
“Good! I was worried. How's your friend?
“Benjamin? He's okay. He won't stop talking about it. He thinks getting shot in the a*s by a Serbian spy is the greatest thing to ever happen to him. He's already connected you guys to three of his conspiracy theories.”
Jonathon chuckled, then his voice grew serious. “How's Emily?”
Chrissy sighed. “She's okay so far. I imagine she'll be having nightmares for a while”
“She will,” he responded, “So will you. But you'll get through it. I can tell.”
“So... are you ever going to tell me what was on that goddamn card?”
There was silence on the other end for several seconds. He finally said, “I suppose I can tell you now that the card is safe and heading back to its rightful owner. Besides, no one will believe you if you repeat it. It's a recipe for oatmeal cookies.”
“Very funny, Jonathon. If you don't want to tell me, then don't!”
“I'm not kidding, Chrissy. Have you ever heard of Nana Scot's Famous Oatmeal Cookies?”
“Of course. Who hasn't. Those things are to die for.” Her eyes suddenly grew wide as it dawned on her. “You mean it's the secret recipe for Nana Scot's Famous Oatmeal Cookies?!”
“Yup. It was stolen from their corporate headquarters and I was hired to get it back using any means necessary.”
“You're telling me that my husband was shot and daughter kidnapped for a cookie recipe?!!” she practically hollered into the phone.
“Think about it, Chrissy. How much do you think that recipe's worth to the right buyer?”
“I don't know. A million bucks maybe?”
“Try ten or twenty million,” he answered.
“Seriously?!”
“Or more! People have killed for a lot less money than that.”
“So, that grey haired little old lady hired you?” Chrissy had an image in her head of Nana Scot in her shawl handing Jonathon a briefcase full of money in a darkened ally.
“She's just a spokesperson, Chrissy. I was contacted by one of the corporate brass. Of course, my client and I will deny it.”
“Of course. Well, you're right about one thing. No one will believe me if I tell them. Even Benjamin.”
Jonathon chuckled. "Before I sign off, I have a favor to ask.”
“Favor? What kind of favor?” she asked suspiciously.
“I want you to hold onto something for me and keep it safe. Something important.”
“Are you out of your mind?!” she responded angrily, “Not on your life, Jonathon!”
“Too late,” he replied, “I've already dropped it off. It's on your back patio.”
She rushed to the back door a flung it open. Even in the dark and under a tarp she could recognize it. “The Triumph,” she replied.
“I hope you don't mind. I couldn't very well take it on the plane with me. It's only for a month or two.”
Well... it doesn't have micro film or anything stashed in it, does it?”
Jonathon laughed. “No, Chrissy. I promise. It's just a motorcycle.”
“You realize I can't watch this thing for you without taking it for a spin, don't you?”
“I know. Just leave some gas in it for me.”
There was a long, awkward pause. Finally Jonathon said, “Jusqu'à ce que nous nous reverrons mon petite fleur.”
She smiled. “Adieu, Jonathon.”
She disconnected.
© 2013 Craig2591Author's Note
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7 Reviews Added on July 27, 2013 Last Updated on August 11, 2013 Tags: intrigue, adventure, danger, spies, undercover AuthorCraig2591OHAboutI am a visual artist with no formal training in creative writing. I get stories knocking around my head and sometimes I write them down. I decided to join this site to share them with other writers .. more..Writing
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