|Beckett checks his voice mail...and isn't happy with what he hears|
It was nearly 1 AM when the manager finally ushered the last of the rehearsal guests out the front door of Salvatore's. It was hard to tell exactly who was holding who upright as the men gathered on the sidewalk in the front of the restaurant. Leaning between his brothers, Jamie and Brendan, Patrick worked at maneuvering his iPhone in an attempt to call for a taxi back to the Park West. Of the group, only Fr. Kevin was sober enough to drive his rented Toyota, while the Groom and his Best Man debated about the possibility of walking home instead of taking either of their cars.
When he first arrived for the celebration, Beckett had no intention of getting hammered. He was set to be on his very best behavior in preparation for the stress of the following day, and was planning to make an early evening of it. But Maureen's insistence that they spend the night apart, and the appearance of his long time buddy, combined to tempt him into relaxing his guard, and imbuing more than was prudent for the night before one's wedding.
As the discussion of transportation volleyed among the group, Beckett took the opportunity to check his voice and email for the first time in a number of hours. Seeing the large amount of missed calls, and the long list of waiting voice mails, he swore under his breath, and stepped away from the cluster of people. Despite the fact that it was the wee hours of Saturday morning, he dialed the number, and someone on the other end picked up on the first ring.
"It's Beckett. What's the problem?"
"We've been trying to reach you for hours, Sir."
"I see that. What's up?"
There was a moment of hesitation. "I'm sorry, Sir. We've seemed to have lost the target."
The statement hit as a mental kick to his balls, and the gaiety of the previous hours evaporated like steam into the humid night time air. "Damn it! How could you lose her? She was one fuckn' civilian woman! How the hell could she shake your tail? You're supposed to be trained agents! When the hell did you last see her?"
"I'm sorry, Sir. I take complete responsibility for this, and we're working around the clock to re-locate her.
"Answer the damn question, Lister! When was the last time you had visual contact?"
The voice on the other end sounded sheepish and strained. "We followed the target into the Volusia Mall, directly across from the Daytona Speedway, at approximately 4:00 PM on Friday afternoon. She window shopped a bit, and then entered Macy's at 4:22. Once inside the department store, she went to the sports wear section, and searched through some racks of swim suits and cover-ups, taking an armful into the store's dressing rooms. I had a team stationed in various locations just outside the entrance, but she never re-appeared. After 30 minutes, I asked the saleslady if she could check on my "wife", but the woman returned saying all the dressing rooms were empty." There was pregnant pause, and then Lister continued. "The store had a storage room at the far end of the space we were unaware of. She must have slipped into there, and exited on the other side of the wall without us noticing."
Beckett swore again, this time loud enough for the others to hear. They stopped their conversations, and stared at him with drunken faces. Turning his back on them, he asked, "And there's been no sign of her since?"
"No, Sir. But she only had a 30 minute head start on us, and we have the airport, bus terminals, car rentals, and train stations covered. It would be near impossible for her to travel anywheres out of the Daytona area without transportation."
Spitting in disgust, Beckett offered, "Unless, she perhaps stole a car from somewhere?"
There was more silence before the embarrassed agent answered. "We'll look into that right away, Sir."
"Do that. And call me as soon as you hear anything." He ended the call without further comment, and sliding the phone back into his pants pocket, wandered back to where the rest of men were standing.
It was Kevin who observed him with suspicion. "Something wrong, Sheriff?"
Beckett smiled, hands in his pocket relaxed. "Nothing serious, Father. Just some last minute checking for tomorrow's festivities."
"At 1 AM in the morning? That seems odd."
He grinned, and shrugged his shoulders, but the joviality didn't meet his eyes. "I want everything to be perfect for my bride on our wedding day, Kevin. If I have to knock some people out of bed, so be it. I got it all covered."
The Votes Have Been Tabulated...
The votes on a party dress for Roxie Spinelli have been tabulated! She is all ready for Ted and Maureen's wedding on Saturday! For now, I will leave the winning dress a mystery...(bet that doesn't surprise you at all...LOL)
I entered the names of everyone who voted on their personal choice, from those who commented directly on the post, as well as those who have sent me a note via e-mail. In a blind draw... the winner of the Give Away is...
Congratulations Jennifer, and thank you for taking the time to vote. Please send me your name and address, so I can mail Baby William to you. If you are by some chance, not a miniaturist, ( I do have some readers who read only for the story, and not the mini scenes) let me know. I can send a different prize.
Thanks to everyone for taking part in our little fashion discussion. Hope it was as fun for you as it was for me. Please know that I am ever grateful for your continued following of my "mini" literary endeavor. With the millions of blogs out there in cyber land, I truly appreciate the fact that you take time out of your busy schedules to come read mine. A special wink to all of you who leave comments each week. Know that I read and cherish each one!
Please join me on Saturday for the start of the much anticipated wedding of Theodore Henton Beckett and Maureen Margaret O'Kenney! It promises to be quite the social event of the year!
Until then, stay safe and happy!
Copyright 2013 Victoria T. Rocus
All Rights Reserved
All Rights Reserved