A Penny for your Thoughts

“Agent Stafford, hi, hello, my name is Merritt Bexley at Georgetown, Professor Danforth gave me your number and suggested I give you a call regarding some early Sumerian cuneiform and interpretation surrounding the lilitu mythology,” said a pleasant sounding feminine voice.

“Abel, please call me Abel,” he offered. “I actually called the professor about the term lamia. He gave me a fairly descriptive rundown on the topic. Something about a temple and some tablets or other,” he explained.

“That’s splendid,” she said warmly. “While the professor is brilliant, I myself have delved a little more deeply into this field of study. There have been some very interesting things coming out of the archeological site of Jemdet Nasr that I believe directly relates to the lilitu or the mythology surrounding the origin of the archetype,” she shared.

“Okay,” Abel replied haltingly.

“If you could manage to come over to the university, I would be happy to show you what I mean. It’s easier than trying to explain the nuances of proto-cuneiform,” she clarified.

Checking his watch, Abel nodded, “Sure, given traffic at this time give me like an hour?”

“Excellent, it will give me time to get a few things ready,” she replied before giving him direction on how to find her office on campus.

Grabbing his jacket from the rack, he walked over to Penny’s office. “I’m heading over to Georgetown to check up on something Gil wrote down. Want to tag along?” he inquired, donning the coat.

Looking at the stack of files, Penny frowned and shook her head. “There are a couple of things I want to check up on if that’s alright?”

“Like?”

“I’ve been thinking DC is one of the most heavily surveilled cities in the world and maybe one of those traffic cameras might have caught something useful,” she answered, offering a hopeful grin.

Abel nodded, “That’s a great idea,” he praised. Boring as shit, but still a heck of a good idea.

Penny beamed at the compliment.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he replied.

Going to the parkade, he got into his car and fastened the seatbelt before starting the engine. The phone in his pocket buzzed. Letting out a breath, he removed it and opened up the screen, tapping the text icon. From an unidentified private number, it read, “Hello Abel.”

“Goddamn it you bitch,” he growled. “Where is Albert?” he queried via text.

A pornographic close up picture of smooth female genitalia, the end of a single finger in the frame resting atop an engorged expose clit, the nail on the finger French cut, a smiley face in black ink over the clear polish. It was similar to the reply he got when he first asked about Gil.

Staring at the image, Abel frowned. “I’ve seen your pussy before, why don’t you send me a picture of your face?” he typed into his phone.

Another image appeared on his phone, a pair of full looking feminine lips painted ruby red and puckered up into a kiss.

Jabbing his thumbs over the screen, “Albert?”

“Alas gone too soon,” came the reply accompanied by a sad faced emoji.

“Why are you doing this?” he typed.

An emoji blowing a heart shaped kiss appeared.

Chuckling menacingly in frustration, Abel shook his head. Gil disappeared from a bustling New Orleans amidst Mardi Gras while Albert vanished from his apartment with no one seeing anything. How does that happen?

“Are you still there Abel or have I frightened my cute little agent away?” flashed on his phone.

“Give me a time and a place and I’ll show you how afraid of you I am,” he replied.

“I think your new partner has some serious potential, a tiny bit of strategic makeup, hair different she could be a real little charmer,” Lily sent.

Abel glanced over his shoulder toward the door leading out of the parking area and into the basement offices. There was a card lock on the door. Snarling, he shut off the car and disengaged the seatbelt before getting out and hurrying back to the door. Passing his card over the scanner, the door opened. Entering, “Penny?” he called out, pulling out his pistol while hurrying to her office.

Setting her phone screen down on the desk, she looked up, “Did you forget something?” she asked, before noticing the sidearm in his hand. Expression changing, “What’s going on?” she questioned.

“Everything is okay? You’re okay?” he asked, eyes darting up and down the hall.

Brows furling, “Fine,” she replied, a puzzled expression still on her face.

Sliding the pistol back into its holster, Abel shook his head. “Lily, she’s screwing with me again,” he replied, eyes drifting down to Penny’s phone.

Seeing where he was looking, “A gal pal of mine works at DC metro, I was asking her how I could circumvent interagency BS and get my hot little hands on copies of yesterday’s traffic cam footage,” she explained.

Abel nodded, relaxing visibly. “I,” he shook his head, “just be careful,” he urged.

Chuckling softly, she got up from her desk and joined him near the door. “Are you okay?” she asked, placing a hand on his arm.

“Yeah,” he replied, looking down at her hand, at the nails at the ends of her fingers, at the French cut manicure.

Expression turning inquisitive, “Do you think you could you forward me the conversation so I can document it?” she asked.

Nodding, “Um, yeah, sure,” he answered, looking at her and giving her a weak smile.

“Good,” she responded, smiling and patting his arm and returning to her desk. “I’ll be fine,” she assured, making a shooing motion with her hands. “Go to Georgetown and follow up on your thread.”

“Yeah,” he verbalized, nodding to himself and shuffling away, mind beginning to tun like a locomotive picking up speed. How common were French cut nails? Was it coincidence? Was it a message from Lily she peeped on Penny? Then a strange thought popped into his head, what if Penny was Lily? The phone?