Minnesota

Pray

Constantina sat on a bench, her legs casually crossed, eating chocolate ice cream out of a waffle cone. The object of her attention was the Praeda building across the street. It was seven p. m. and she’s been prowling this area for hours. It might be time to go home. Connie thought, looking down at her ice cream cone. When I’m done eating this, I’ll leave. Maybe call Thomas. He had been texting her earlier, wanting to see her. She made up an excuse, feeling the unrelenting urge to stalk Regina.

The sun disappeared behind the building, giving it an eerie look. Steel and windows, illuminated by the waning sunlight. Connie squinted when the door man opened the glass doors. Regina and Mark Praeda walked through the large glass doors. The tall, slender, woman walked up to the curb, checking for traffic before stepping into the street. They walked straight toward where Connie was sitting.

Regina, wearing flawlessly pressed jeans and a stiffly starched white shirt, came closer. The younger man wheezing as he tried to keep up. 

Connie had seen Mark once, at the tournament. The closer the pair came, the more she realized that Nena’s description fit Mark, down to the brown eyebrows standing in stark contrast to his cold blue eyes.

The hunt had been successful.

Knowing Nena’s rapist was in arm’s reach numbed her fingers. Constantina rubbed her hands together and smeared ice cream all over both hands.

“Spectacular.” She whispered.

***

Constantina brushed her hair out of her face and approached the restaurant. She glanced through the windows to see which table her intended targets were sitting, but white curtains hindered her view.

A young man opened the door for her. “Good evening, Signora.”

He had his sleek, black hair tied into a ponytail, and wore a large diamond ring on his left ring finger. A bit out of reach for a normal waiter, isn't it? Connie wondered.

“I would like a table for one, please.” His smile was infectious, the deep, dark eyes looked into hers and Connie felt self-conscious.

“Please, follow me. “He extended his arm. The restaurant was full tonight, the noises of glasses chiming as they touched each other in cheerful toasts, people talking, some of them laughing. Constantina looked at each table, hoping to find Regina and Mark. By the time the waiter reached the table he designated for her, she sighed. I saw them come in here ten minutes ago.

Her table was a table for two, nestled against the wall. It was similar to the table she and Thomas sat at a few nights ago. Cozily tucked against the wall, divided by delicately decorated pine shelves, ivy leaves hanging down like casual curtains, giving each table privacy.

“That’s not the point; it is my car, and I didn’t give permission to have it painted. It’s an old-people color.” A man’s voice from the next table complaint. Connie’s waiter rattled off the specialties of the day. She absentmindedly ordered wine and water.

“Will you get over it? It’s a car. We can always a new one and have it shipped to Mexico.” A woman’s voice assuaged the complainer.

Well, well. Connie recognized Regina’s distinctive voice immediately. The waiter, and Lady Fortuna, had led Connie into Regina’s auditory range.

Connie leaned toward the divider, glancing through the plastic ivy leaves. She saw Mark lifting his hand in protest.

“As usual, you’re missing the point. It’s my property, my life. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t send me to St. Louis for a tech job I could do myself. Or to Mexico to get out of the way of a perceived danger zone.” He paused, fingers playing with the stem of his wine glass. “Steve admitted it himself. Nothing was found in Duane’s apartment. The police aren’t coming for me. And if you would have consulted me right from the get-go, we could have kept the computers. Instead, he hands it all over to that men-hating tech bitch.”

Connie sat up straight so fast her spine made a clicking sound.  It’s stupid to talk about something like this in public. Aren’t these people afraid of anything?

Connie watched as Regina's face turned red, nostrils flaring. Looks like auntie Gina has a different version of events.

Mark, not done airing his grievances, didn’t give her time. “And let’s make this clear; I am not driving to New Orleans to get on a shit boat to cross the ocean into a third world country. And he can take his itinerary and shove it. I have appointments in Thailand next week, so I won’t be leaving the day after tomorrow to go to …”

Connie hid behind her menu, pretending she still needed time to decide. She needed to pay attention to the details of Mark’s future.

“The car will be ready and dropped off at the office. And you will leave for Mexico. I’ve already had the office reschedule your appointments.”

Mark slammed his hand down.

Connie leaned back, putting the menu on the table. I have what I need. She sighed.

“We have a way of doing business …” Regina began, but she couldn’t finish. Her phone rang. “I got to take this.” She said, picked up the phone, got up and walked to the back of the restaurant.

Mark winced. “Fine, talk to your boyfriend, I’ll go to the restroom.” He, too, got up and walked away.

Connie glanced through the fake vines, watching them leave. She saw half-eaten bread pieces, water and wine glasses and small plates on their table. And his phone. Connie glanced around, took a quick visual measurement of the lattice separating the table and realized she could reach through it to the other table. She had to get out of her chair, lean down and through the lattice, but it took less than thirty seconds and she held Mark’s phone in her hands. She quickly sat down again, frantically getting her phone out, clicked on the link Gabe had sent her and activated the tracing program. Mark hadn’t secured his phone with a code, so she had access to all his information. While the tracing program downloaded, she browsed through his searches, his contacts, his call and text records.

And here it is. She saw text messages between Mark and Duane going back a week prior to Nena’s abduction.

‘I’m going to get that bitch.’ One message read. Connie kept scrolling. ‘I don’t have time to download the video. We’ll post this one after we’re finished.’ She saw Mark sent the message two days after Nena disappeared. The same day Connie found her.

‘I need the money, I’m broke, so post this shit already.’ Duane responded.

‘If you had thought of bringing charging power, I wouldn’t have had to leave to charge the equipment. Shut up and get rid of the evidence. I’ll loan you whatever you need.’ Mark said.

Connie re-read the message and realized, had she not acted when she did, Nena would have died that night. The weight of the realization crushed her into her chair.

Connie pulled herself together. The tracking software didn’t need to be installed into Mark’s phone. It just needed his phone in proximity to download the phone codes, the cellular data plans and then attach a node to it. It was done within a minute. She hurried the phone back on to Mark’s table.

Why is this so easy? It felt too easy. She wondered if it would even work.

When she clicked on the link, it had automatically downloaded the app and put it on to her home screen. Since this was her burner phone, it was the only app there, looking lonely.

I’ll be damned. The app opened and devoured the entire screen, a purple dot blinking next to a green one. Mark’s is purple, my phone is the green dot.

Now she had everything she needed.