Chapter 4.4: Secret Agent Sara Slater

Sara had another reason to not be at home after the incident with her uncle Rico and tried to find leads to take down her father.

Like everyone else who was home that day, they all believed that Rico was a sexual deviant, and Sara was relieved that the police took him away before something worse had happened.

Early one February morning, Sara went out on a mission.

She was a Secret Agent.

At least, she liked to imagine she was.

Like any other secret agent, she didn't want to stand out too much. That was hard since she was very tall, but she tried to find the right clothes to blend in; not too bright, not too dark.

So she wore a brown sweater dress, with some pantyhose underneath, a small pearl necklace, got out her brown and gold Fucci bag, and set out on the town. Her first stop was Anderson manor.

Mayor Anderson had agreed to help her. She was furious that Maximillian took no responsibility for the October Massacre, had no idea that Sara made it worse, and wanted to ruin Maximillian for endangering the life of her child and those of her other rich and connected friends.

Mayor Anderson was the one who approached Sara with the offer, and Mayor Anderson knew she would take it. If Maximillian was horrible to everyone else, she knew he must be worse behind closed doors.

Sara drove herself there, and she took the longest route to get there, making sure no one was following her. She would sometimes go around the street a few times, to shake off anyone, covering her tracks like a true intelligence informant.

Sara parked her car a few blocks away, her fancy WMB matching all the other cars in the upscale neighborhood. It was the nice part of town, a neighborhood where people went jogging all times of day, their kids played outside unsupervised, and where people would throw out a new TV because it wasn't the right color.

Sara arrived at Anderson Manor, and the security guard at the front drove her through the front on his little golf cart, through the wide gates, and around the back. Sara's meeting was top secret, and she was going to take the back entrance.

As instructed by the security, Sara went up to the parlor on the second floor.

It was a large and circular room, bright and inviting. Green and blue striped vertical wallpaper were on the walls, and her reflection shone on the light brown and weekly buffed floor.

Old, blue, antique wooden tables littered the sides of the room, but a larger, brown one was in the back, where several people sat, yelling several obscenities.

Smoke filled the air, as Mayor Anderson already had guests over.

They were playing poker and laughing, drinking very early in the day. Sara was upset, as she didn't expect all those people there, and worried that she had come on a wrong day.

She was supposed to discuss a secret plot. How could she do that with all those people there?

Sara quietly approached the table and was surprised to see a large green parrot, sitting on its perch, cackling along with everyone else. It flapped its wings, let out a loud whistle, and screamed out,

"Get your pretty ass in this chair!"

Everyone roared in laughter after Sara literally covered her mouth and clutched her pearls.

The indecency of it all.

"Come sit with us dear," Mayor Anderson laughed. "Don't mind Barnaby Jr, he's just foul-mouthed is all!"

"Oh.. yes… of course," Sara laughed nervously.

She sat down on the only available seat, a creaky old wooden chair with a seafoam pillow on it. Awkwardly she tried to make conversation, not sure how to talk about her plot to betray her own father.

"So uh, if that's Barnaby Jr, where's Senior?"

"I'm right here," yelled a man.

Barnaby Sr. sat on the far side of the table, drunk and slightly belligerent, holding a bottle of John Faniel's, his mustache twitching and face red. He leaned in towards the table, as if he was hard to hear when he was already yelling indoors, and pointed at Sara.

"I know you, you're uh, you're that uh..."

Sara wasn't sure if she should tell him her real name, still thinking she was a secret agent.

"You're the girl that does the commercials for the dealer, yes?"

Sara nodded nervously, not one to fight a drunk man on anything, lest she gets into a stupid argument over nothing.

"Don't listen to him, even when sober he's mindless anyway," said a woman at the table. Mrs.List, unlike everyone else who was dressed very casually, wore a fancy white dress, a black shawl, and a floral patterned hat, with bright purple lipstick.

She looked like she had just gotten off of church instead of sitting at the mayor's mansion, arguing with her and four other men about predicting the market. She had a raspy smoker's cough, and she wheezed, still holding her menthol between her fingers.

"There goes another lung," screamed Barnaby Jr. and Sr.

"Silence you stupid birds," Mrs.List screamed. "The girl is here for something important!"

Sara awkwardly clutched her purse and tried not to look nervous as everyone stared at her, even the parrot. Mrs.Anderson giggled, and flicked a black curl out of her hair, enjoying that if she couldn't kill Maximillian, she could at least make his daughter sweat.

Her makeup was all done, with small diamond stud earrings, red lipstick that popped on her brown skin, and her short, black, curly hair coming undone, getting all over her face.

Mayor Anderson leaned over the side of her chair, got out a manilla file from her purse, and slapped it onto the table, tipsy and unaware of her own strength.

"Careful Sally," Horace told her. "You'll break another table."

Mayor Anderson gave the old man a look, and went about her business, searching through the large file. Everyone went back to playing, smoking, and screaming, including Barnaby Jr, who seemed too intelligent for a parrot.

"Hold! Hold! Hold," the parrot screamed. "Hold your cards!"

"Quiet you damned loon," Mrs.List shouted. "Stop cheating!"

Mrs.List got up from the chair, and stopped herself, knowing that someone new was there, or else she would have given Barnaby Jr. a swift smack.

"Get your pretty ass in this chair!"

Mrs.List stood in defiance, as everyone expected her to, and even Sara laughed this time, and took a drink herself, no longer nervous thanks to Barnaby Jr. Mayor Anderson eyed Sara warily, thinking that maybe she wasn't serious.

It was one thing for Mayor Anderson to be tipsy, in her own house. But for someone that was making a deal with her, Sara was foolish enough to drink around someone that could be an enemy?

Foolish at best, dangerous at worst.

Mrs.List finally sat back down and watched the both of them, the only person at the table without a drop of alcohol in her system. She never touched it, never would, and Mayor Anderson liked keeping her around for that very reason, a woman who always had her wits about herself.

Mayor Anderson took out the papers she was looking for, and screams erupted at the table.

The poker match had ended and Barnaby Sr. was victorious yet again.

"This painted chicken keeps giving him help," Mrs.List screamed. "I'll grill him if he keeps it up!"

"Calm down, please dear," Horace pleaded. "We can play again next week."

Jonathan and James Barker sneered, expecting the same to happen, and folded early, taking the small earning they could get. The two brothers sat between Barnaby Sr and Mrs.List, a buffer between the two of them so another fight wouldn't break out.

"You admit you have lost to a bird," Jonathan asked. "Is your age getting to you already?"

Mrs.List took a long drag from her cigarette and spoke her carefully crafted insult.

"Close your mouth before a fly comes in, attracted to the smell of your shit, dear," Mrs.List said. Smoke curled around her face, as it came out of her mouth like a dragon, seeping into the walls, laughter shaking the table, chairs, and the room.

Mayor Anderson slid Sara the papers, smiled, and made a shoo motion, done with her already. Sara quickly stashed the papers in her purse and thanked her for everything.

"Don't mention it. Really . Don't mention this ever again, to anyone, " Mayor Anderson said.

Sara Slater noticed that Mrs.List was staring at her cup. Sara grinned, and said a quick goodbye, and left, not one to be a bother. Mrs.List's beady eyes watched her as she scuttled out of the room and finally could speak her piece.

"The little whore pretended to drink with us the entire time," Mrs. List said.

"Don't be like that Sally," Horace complained. "Why talk about the girl like that!?"

"She did that on purpose, I know it," said Mrs.List.

"Why would she pretend to drink," the parrot asked.

"To give the impression that she's soft , Junior," Mayor Anderson replied. "Be careful of girls like that. They're craftier than they look."

"She's quite right Junior," Barnaby Sr said. "They'll take your balls and your wallet. "

"Don't worry about the first, you had none, to begin with, dear," Mrs.List replied.

"Quiet you old shrunken potato," Barnaby Sr shouted.

"She must have just done it to fit in with us," James suggested.

"A girl like her doesn't care what other people with a lower net worth than herself think dear. You have to start thinking like them," Mayor Anderson said.

"Like a bitch, " Barnaby Jr screeched.

Their laughter went on for the rest of the afternoon, their weekly poker matches the highlight of Mayor Anderson's week.