Undercover Cookie Exchange

               Olivia fiddled nervously with the bottles of wine and glasses she had set out, moving each one over a fraction of an inch and then moving them back. She reached up to push her hair back and then remembered herself. Instead, she checked that it was still in place, hiding everything that needed to be hidden. She wringed her hands instead.

               The doorbell rang and Olivia took a deep, steadying breath. She really couldn’t believe she was doing this. She plastered on what she hoped was a welcoming smile and opened the door to find her best friend, Debi, with her twin sister, Barb, stood holding plates of cookies and hors d’oeuvres. Olivia was relieved to see them. The twins were not mirror images of each other, but their twin effervescent personalities put everyone at ease.

               “Hello, darling,” Debi kissed her cheek. “This was a big surprise. I can’t remember the last time you had people over.”

               “Yes, well, I wanted to do something to welcome my new neighbor to town. She moved here from Houston and doesn’t know anyone.” Olivia recited this exactly as she rehearsed. “I thought a cookie exchange would be perfect to welcome her to the area.”

               “Her name is Cheyenne, right? This is sweet of you. And the more the merrier. We could always use fresh blood in our little group.” The doorbell rang again. This time it was Sandy, Marcia and Courtney, rounding out the usual groups of friends. As they reached in for a hug, Olivia stayed back a bit to make sure no one would feel the wire running up her back. A small part of her had just started to hope that her new neighbor had changed her mind about coming tonight when the doorbell rang again. This was it.

               “Hi, Cheyenne. I’m so glad you could make it,” she said as she opened the door. As she stepped aside to let the new woman into the house, she glanced down the street to see a dark van sitting on the side of the road. She turned back and smiled warmly. “Let me introduce you to everyone.”

               A half hour later, the cookie exchange was well underway. Marcia had declared herself official taste tester, going back to her favorites over and over to make sure they were free from poison. They had already made quite a dent in the wine and Cheyenne seemed to be enjoying herself. Olivia never had any doubt that her friends would make her feel welcome. She wished she could down the glass of Merlot she had been sipping on since before everyone started to arrive. She couldn’t, though, if she wanted to keep all her senses so she    

               “So, Cheyenne, tell me what you do again?” She had a list of topics she was supposed to try to bring up, but Olivia was quite certain the person that wrote them had never made small talk. “Have you ever vacationed in Columbia?” Why would she ask that out of the blue?

               “I’m in imports and exports,” Cheyenne replied. That sounded like some sort of code to Olivia.

Suddenly a voice came through the speaker in her ear. “We’ve found some things. Try and keep her a while longer.”  Startled, Olivia got up to grab another bottle of wine. Debi chimed in, “That sounds interesting. What do you import… and export?”

“A little of this and a little of that. It changes every day,” Olivia could have sworn she was trying to change the subject. “So, what do you all do?”

This was all that Debi needed to launch into the ins and outs of she and Barb’s marketing business.

Olivia excused herself again to get some more appetizers. From the kitchen she looked out the window over at Cheyenne’s house. Two more dark vans had pulled up in front. Did that one say “SWAT” on the side? She rejoined the group in the living room where Cheyenne seemed to be getting a bit tipsier. “I lived in Miami for years. It was a great place for my business.”

“Oh, I thought you were from Houston. What made you move here?” Barb asked.

“I lived in Miami before moving to Houston,” Cheyenne paused as if she was deciding if she should tell this next bit of information. “My boyfriend was sort of famous and he got into trouble.”

“Famous?” Courtney raised her eyebrows, and everyone waited for Cheyenne to continue. Cheyenne looked nervous, as if she regretted saying anything at all.

“Yes, well. I don’t want to talk about that anymore.” You could see the other women’s disappointment, but no one could think of a convincing argument as to why she should continue.

Debi changed the subject. “Olivia, we need another bottle of wine.” Olivia was shocked. She had just brought that last bottle out. Most nights she would try to keep anyone from getting too carried away but tonight she figured it would work to her advantage. The more their senses were dulled by the alcohol, the less likely anyone was to notice that something was going on. Her nerves were really getting the best of her.

She went to the kitchen to fetch the new bottle and took a moment to peek out the window again. She could see lights in Cheyenne’s house, and she realized she needed to keep her neighbor away from the kitchen. She honestly didn’t know how she had gotten herself into this situation. She was no undercover cop. She was an accountant, for goodness sake.

Back in the living room Debbi was now regaling her audience with the story of her latest break up. “Can you believe he expected me to give up my Friday night book club meetings at the wine bar? He said we weren’t bothering to read the book; I should just spend the evenings with him instead.” She paused for dramatic effect. “I mean, the other 6 nights a week wasn’t enough. He was suffocating me.”

“Yes, well mine expected me to wait for him while he was in jail,” Cheyenne blurted out. She had obviously drank enough wine to forget that she wasn’t going to go into the story of what happened in Miami. “Like I’m going to spend the best years of my life living like a nun.”

Never one to pass up on gossip, Debi leaned in. “Jail. You weren’t kidding when you said he got in trouble.”

Cheyenne’s eyes went wide. “Ah, yes. Well, he will be there for quite a long time, so it’s time to move on.”

“Were you in love?” Marcia never had a particularly good filter for which questions were a bit too personal. Cheyenne didn’t look phased by the question.

“I did. It was, um, difficult to love Paulos, though.”

“Wait,” Barb interrupted. “Paulos as in Paulos Montoya, the singer?” She got closer and squinted. “You ARE her. Debi, look.”

“Yes. Your hair is lighter and shorter, but you are Marla Rice. Your fiancé is in jail for trafficking. Did you know?”

Marcia chimed in. “Of course she knew. How could she not.”

Over the wire in Olivia’s ear someone said, “This is good. Keep her talking.” Cheyenne was starting to cry, though, and she stood up and started heading towards the kitchen. Panicked that she would look out the window and see the flashlight beams in her house, Olivia inserted herself between Cheyenne and the door. “Why don’t I show you where the bathroom is?” She put her hand on her back and tried to lead her the other direction.

“No, I just need a drink of water.” Cheyenne pushed her way through the door and Olivia followed with the other women not far behind.

Debi started to say, “Don’t worry. Marcia has no filter. Just ignore…”

Cheyenne interrupted. “Is someone in my house?”  She looked at Olivia, who could only stand there with her mouth open, unable to form words. Just then a large bang came from outside and the door burst open and an FBI agent appeared, holding a gun. At the same time, two men in SWAT uniforms rushed in from behind.

“Marla Rice,” the FBI agent began. “You are under arrest. Garcia, read her rights.” The cop that came in the door behind him started reading the Miranda.

“You don’t have anything on me.” Cheyenne/Marla was practically spitting.

“Oh, yes. We’ve searched your house. A safe hidden behind a painting? You almost made it too easy.” The agent was smirking. “All those instructions and lists of names, from Paulos to you, just sitting there waiting for us to find.” He cuffed her and began to lead her out of the house.

“Oh, and special thanks to Olivia. We couldn’t have done it without her.” Cheyenne-Marla turned to glare at her as she was pushed out the door.

The five friends stood and stared at each other for 5 full minutes before anyone spoke. It was Debi who broke the ice. She took a large gulp of wine and said, “You don’t mind if I go back to throwing the parties from now on, do you?”