Chapter Text
“Beatrice! It’s really not a big deal!” Ava insisted over brunch. “I mean, it’s disappointing, yes, but I’ll get over it. It’s not that important.”
“It’s your wedding, Ava.” Beatrice put emphasis on the word, even though it pained her to do so. Ava was her best friend, though, and Beatrice was determined to be supportive, no matter the cost. “It is important.”
“A church wedding is cliché.”
“Who cares?” Shaking her head, Beatrice continued. “You should have it wherever you want. It’s your wedding. ”
“JC said he is willing to get baptised for it, but the priest said that it wasn’t good enough.” Ava explained quietly.
“Why not?”
“Because he felt like it wasn’t genuine.” Ava paused to take a bite of french toast. “Like JC was only getting baptised for the wedding, not because of any genuine religious reason. Which is true, but still.”
“I see…” Already, the gears in Beatrice’s mind were turning, but she was careful to keep her face neutral. “I mean, you’re not particularly religious either, Ava.”
“No, yeah, I know.” She laughed and Beatrice felt lucky to hear it. “But I spent a lot of time there as a kid. It’s important to me.”
“I understand.” Nodding, Beatrice took a sip of her smoothie. She got the same thing every time they got brunch, despite Ava always telling her to try something new. A little odd, perhaps, given that they went to the same restaurant almost every Sunday, and sat on the same patio, no matter the season.
“So, I guess we’ll find a new venue. I can ask Camila, maybe. She always has the hookup.” Ava shrugged and tried to pretend like it didn’t bother her. It did, though, that much was obvious. Beatrice didn’t comment.
“Indeed she does.”
“For an accountant it’s sometimes surprising how popular she is,” commented Ava. “She always knows the best spots, and usually the owners too.”
“Camila handles a lot of the accounts for these local businesses.” Beatrice lied. She was used to lying to Ava but it never seemed to get easier. “And she always brings baked goods to the account meetings. They grow to like her.”
“I can see why.” Laughing, Ava looked out towards the street. “In college she used to do the same for our professors. When we first met I thought it was so they would raise her grades.”
“Camila definitely didn’t need her grades raised.”
“Yeah, I realised that pretty quickly.” Ava turned her gaze back to Beatrice, it was hard to stay calm beneath the weight of it. “Anyways, it’s good your firm puts her on the outward facing jobs. She is by far the friendliest.”
“You and I are friends, though.” Even nothing this fact gave Beatrice a slight thrill. She needed to control herself. Ava was getting married soon, and the nothingness between them would become permanent.
“Only after years of awkward interactions! I finally wore you down!” Ava recounted with no shortage of emotion. And she was right. They’d met through Camila, Ava’s friend since college, at a party several years ago. A party which Beatrice hadn’t even wanted to attend anyhow. But Camila loved to meddle, so here they were.
“Yes, you were very persistent.”
“I know.” Ava shoved the rest of her french toast in her mouth with a syrupy grin. “And good thing, too. You’re more fun than I thought.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“That was a compliment!”
“Okay, okay.” Beatrice shook her head. “Whatever you say, Ava.” Whatever you say. Oh, how true that would ring.
“Speaking of parties…” Always the good-natured antagonist, Ava continued. “JC and I are having a Christmas party in a few weeks. Well, sort of the engagement party we never had, too. But also a Christmas party. Tis the season.”
“Tis the season.”
“Anyway, you’re invited. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” echoed Beatrice with a rare smile. Ava returned the expression, which made it impossible for Beatrice to say anything else. Luckily, Ava wasn’t one to let a conversation fall to silence.
“And you could bring a date, if you wanted…”
“A date?” Beatrice almost choked.
“Yes, a date. ” Ava made a weird and rather suggestive hand motion. Beatrice rolled her eyes. “I mean, Lilith made a comment the other day about how you were interested in someone. And to be honest, I was a little mad, because you didn’t say anything! Who is it!? And more importantly, you can ask them to come as your date so I can meet them!”
“Oh my God.” Beatrice ran a hand over her face. She was going to punch Lilith in the throat next time she saw her. “There isn’t anyone in my life, Ava. Lilith was just being a jerk.”
“Hm. That tracks.” Ava didn’t look entirely convinced, but didn’t push, either. “Well, if you happen to find a date, they are welcome too. Camila hooked up a great deal at a bar downtown, I’ve rented the whole place out. Isn’t that awesome!”
“Very much.” Nodding, Beatrice had a strong feeling that Camila’s hookup was of the illegal variety, but obviously she didn’t communicate the suspicion to Ava. “I’ll be sure to keep you posted about my date, and likely lack thereof.”
“Don’t look so depressed about it!” Ava mumbled. The waiter came by before she could continue, and Beatrice beat Ava to the punch, handing him her thick, black credit card.
“I’m not depressed.” In truth, her emotions were more complicated than that. There was only one person Beatrice would ever entertain dating, but said person was engaged to another.
“You seem sad. Also, you always pay! I owe you like ten brunches now.”
“I’m not sad.” A lie. “And I make good money, don’t worry about it.” Not a lie, but also not a truth. Beatrice’s actual career was more than just good money. “I’m also not planning a wedding.”
“Fine, fine.” Ava pouted, but acquiesced. She knew better than to argue with Beatrice at this point. “But I owe you a drink. Well, several drinks. Maybe I’ll finally meet drunk Beatrice.”
“I hope not.” Being drunk around Ava seemed like a terrible idea.
“You are no fun.” Ava finished her mimosa in a single gulp. “I’m requesting drunk Beatrice at my wedding reception and you’re not allowed to say no.”
“I’ll consider it.” Beatrice lied again. The waiter returned and Beatrice quickly signed the receipt, leaving him a generous tip. Money was no object and she and Ava had become regulars. Beatrice had grown to like this restaurant… But perhaps that was just the fond memories colouring reality.
Rising and smoothing the linen of her shirt, Beatrice looked to Ava. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” With a smile, Ava led Beatrice back out to the parking lot. It was unseasonably warm for late November. They’d parked beside one another, Beatrice’s luxury vehicle next to Ava’s sensible Toyota. “Til next week, then?” Ava asked, as she reached over to hug Beatrice goodbye.
“Until next week.” Blushing slightly, and hoping Ava didn’t notice, she climbed into her car.
Ava waved goodbye with a smile, before backing out and heading back across town. Beatrice sat in silence for a moment. Every time she saw Ava it left her feeling slightly off balance, and this time was no different. Internally she admonished herself, frustrated. Thankfully her phone buzzed, a momentary distraction from her emotional inadequacy.
Mary: SOS. meet at office asap! [sent 1:03pm]
Suddenly anxious in a new way, Beatrice started her car without savouring the soft rumble of the finely tuned engine. She sped towards the office, through the thankfully minimal Sunday traffic. Within ten minutes she’d parked and made it to the elevator, which carried her to the top floor office suite.
As usual, she was greeted by the black and gold sign that read: Oliver, Conely, and Sharpe - Financial Services. It was a front, of course, but it was fancy enough to justify the office space, and boring enough to avoid scrutiny. Beatrice ignored her reflection in the polished sign as she typed in her access code on the door panel.
“Beatrice.” Mary waved her over. Everyone was already there, gathered around Camila’s computer. How was she the last one to arrive? She’d barely taken any time to get here. Frustrated, Beatrice crossed the well-appointed office space.
“What am I looking at?” Beatrice forced her nerves to calm and focused on Camila’s screen. Now was no time for emotion.
“This.” Camila rewound the security footage. On-screen, a man walked into a bank on the other side of the city. It was clear, even given the grainy quality of the camera, that he was wearing a bulletproof vest beneath the jacket that wasn’t seasonally appropriate. Right after he crossed the threshold, the camera blinked out, leaving only fuzzy static on screen. Camila pulled up another tab, a news article from the day prior.
“He robbed the bank. Killed the hostages, escaped custody.” Lilith explained with her typical demeanour. She was cold, sure, but Beatrice appreciated the clarity.
“And it’s one of our banks.” Camila mumbled, as she buried her head in her hands. “I feel like a fool.”
“Cam, don’t do that.” Shannon put a hand on Camila’s shoulder, before turning to Beatrice. “Long story made short, we’re missing ten million dollars.”
“Oh, is that all?” Mary rolled her arms before crossing the room and unlocking a filing cabinet, which was full of weapons. “This is a declaration of war.”
“Are we sure?” Beatrice didn’t disagree with the sentiment, but she wanted all the information before going into battle.
“Pretty sure,” whispered Camila. “They made a mistake by not cutting the cameras earlier. I can see if I can ID our suspect. That should at least give us a clue what family he is from.”
“This was our safest financial institution.” Lilith paced back and forth across the thick carpet. Her steps were soundless, her thoughts were not. “One of us needs to head down there and inventory what was taken. If it was dirty bills, this could get worse in a hurry.”
“I’ll go.” Camila rose from her chair. “And Lil, come with me. I have a good relationship with the owner… Though he might be a bit angry after this. I’d appreciate the back up.”
“I doubt you’ll need it but I’ll never say no to accompanying you.”
“Lilith, would it kill you to be that nice to the rest of us?” Mary asked as she picked out a weapon.
“Yes,” was all Lilith replied with.
“Don’t bicker.” Shannon muttered. “Mary and I are going to take a lap of our other fronts. See if we can’t turn up any threats.”
“I have a contact I might be able to tap for information.” Beatrice whispered, half to herself. She walked over to the cabinet to retrieve a weapon of her own, an unmarked 9mm that was easy to conceal. “Not sure. I’ll have to find him first.”
“Communicate only when necessary.” Camila told everyone. “And use your encrypted phones.”
“Will do.” Shannon moved towards the door. “Mary, let’s go.”
Only a few minutes later, Beatrice found herself back in the car. No one had spared any goodbyes, despite the potential danger they were getting themselves into. Such was the nature of the work and she trusted the competence of her friends. Without that to fixate on, though, Beatrice’s thoughts flew back to Ava as she drove into the sketchier part of town.
The first three dive bars were a bust, but the fourth offered Beatrice’s grey-haired salvation. Keeping her gaze focused firmly on the nasty floor, Beatrice crossed the room and stealthily unholstered her weapon.
“Vincent. Nice to see you.” Beatrice pressed the barrel into his back, careful to angle her body to make it look like she was giving a hug to an old friend. The most difficult part was the proximity, he reeked of whiskey.
“Beatrice.” Vincent was a professional. He wasn’t phased. “Long time no see.”
“Do you mind stepping outside with me for a moment?” It wasn’t a question.
“Sure. What’s a shared, drunken cigarette between friends?” Casual, Vincent left a too-large bill beneath his half-empty glass, before leading Beatrice out of the bar's side door. In the dark and empty alleyway, Vincent turned to hit her. She’d been expecting this.
Ducking, Beatrice heard Vincent’s hand smash into the wall. He was a better fighter when he was sober. Quickly, she kicked out his front leg before rising and throwing a fist into his jaw. Vincent fell backwards, hitting the brick before sliding to the ground.
“I was willing to be peaceful.” Beatrice holstered her weapon, it was clear she wouldn’t need it. “But clearly you want to do this the hard way.” It was hard to believe they’d been friends once.
“What do you want?”
“Information.” Crouching down to meet Vincent’s eyes, she spoke in a harsh whisper. “About the robbery.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” bit Vincent. Wrong answer. Beatrice punched him in the nose, breaking it with a satisfying crack. Blood ran down his face.
“Try again.”
“What robbery?” The alcohol was probably blunting the pain, but Vincent could be a stubborn bastard sometimes. Beatrice grabbed him by the collar and lifted him from the dirty pavement. Frustrated, she pushed him against the wall, before throwing several strikes into her former confidant. A final elbow drove him to the ground once more.
“One more chance.” Beatrice pulled out her gun. Her knuckles were bloody and starting to bruise but she felt nothing.
“Fine, fine.” Vincent was a mess, though that was only partially Beatrice’s doing. “It’s Adriel. He is making moves… Big ones…” He paused, pained, pressing a hand to his ribcage. “Don’t know the details but… More to come.”
“See?” Beatrice put away her weapon. “Was that so hard?”
“Fuck you.” Vincent spit, as blood dripped down his chin.
“No, fuck you. ” Beatrice rose to leave. “You’re so goddamn lucky I didn’t kill you for what you did to us… For what you did to me. ”
“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain.”
“Don’t even start.” Beatrice turned. She’s almost forgotten that Vincent was a priest once. A priest. Beatrice had another stop to make tonight, before her adrenaline completely tapered off. “You are no man of God. You never were.” She walked away before he could reply, there was nothing worth hearing. Not from Vincent, not anymore, not ever.
A few blocks away, a priest finished his final service of the day. In retreating to his back office, however, he was clearly surprised to find a young woman sitting in his chair.
“Oh, you must have made -”
“There is no mistake, my father.” Beatrice slowly set her pistol on the table, before rolling up her sleeves. She probably looked intimidating, knuckles broken and shirt stained with blood. Her smile was harsh and unfriendly. “Sit down.”