Shoe Strings

enormous amber daisy pendant hanging
from a leather cord.
    “Is it too much?”
    The look in her eyes said little sparrow while her outfit
screamed peacock.   He could only
chuckle.   “No, not at all.   You ready?”
    “I think so.”   She gathered her purse from the floor near the door and headed into the
hallway.   “I’m nervous, Jesse.   What if they don’t believe me?”
    “All you can do is tell the truth.”   He held open the door to her SUV and
slid behind the driver’s seat.   “I
don’t think it’s going to be anything like the movies.”
    “I hope not.   I
don’t do well under pressure.”   She
reached over and grabbed his hand.   “I can’t thank you enough for coming.   I don’t even want to think about what
would have happened if I’d signed that contract.   I could have been arrested!”
    “Don’t go putting the cart before the horse.”    He squeezed her hand before
letting go to maneuver around a fender-bender on Spring Street.   Despite the years and obvious updates to
Midtown, Atlanta traffic hadn’t changed a bit.   “Let’s take this one step at a time.”
    It didn’t resemble the movies at all.   The federal building sat along a busy
highway, twenty-six stories of concrete with security that would set your teeth
on edge if you were late for an appointment.   Jesse felt certain the guard at the
front wanted to frisk Angelita by the looks he gave her chest as she emptied
her purse and undid her strappy feathered sandals.   It would have been quicker to enter the
building with the tin man.  
    The agent who greeted them after a thirty-minute wait that
Jesse had filled with concession coffee and a pack of M&M’s was a head
shorter than Jesse.   He made up for
his lack of height with an impressive barrel chest and a grip that could have
crushed aluminum cans without even trying.   “Mr. Bloodworth, Ms. Barros,” he said in a surprisingly high octave considering
his girth.   “I’m Agent Fielder.   Come on back and we’ll see if we can get
this straightened out.”
    He closed the door behind them after leading them to what
looked like a conference room.   The
royal blue carpet and gunmetal walls gave the room the feel of a morgue.   “Have a seat.”   He motioned to a long wooden table and
blue fabric chairs.   “So, Ms.
Barros.”   He sat across the table
from them.   “Are you related to Davi
Barros, the Brazilian consul in Atlanta?”
    “Yes,” Angelita answered quickly.   She sat bolt upright in her chair and
the nervous swing of her foot caused her to bounce in her seat.   “I’m his daughter.”
    “And your connection, Mr. Bloodworth?”
    “I’ve never met the man.”
    The agent eyed him noncommittally, his bald head shining in
the glow of the overhead fluorescent light.   “So why did you ask Michael Bradomowitz
to look into…” He consulted the thick file he’d brought into the room with
him.   “…the possible closing of the
consulate?”
    “I asked him to,” Angelita interrupted.   She smiled nervously when the agent
glanced at her without moving his head, his beady eyes flicking like a
lizard.   “My father’s been
pressuring me to do business with him, said it could help the consulate stay
open.   When I complained about it to
Jesse, he said he had a friend who could check it out and either refute or
substantiate his claims.”
    Jesse shrugged when the agent looked back at him.   “Just trying to be helpful.”
    “And what is your relationship with Ms. Barros, Mr.
Bloodworth?”
    Ah, the question of the hour.   “We’re friends.   She rented a cabin from my dad for a few
weeks and we got to know each other.”   It seemed safest not to mention how well they’d gotten to know one
another.
    “And when was this?”
    “About two and a half weeks ago.”
    Agent Fielder cocked his head.   “So you made a phone call to Mr.
Bradomowitz and forgot about it?”
    “Basically.   I
figured no news was good news.”   He
didn’t like the way the guy looked at him, as if he had something to hide.   If he’d had a guilty conscience, he’d
have cracked under the heat of Agent Fielder’s stare.
    “When you say your father pressured you, what exactly do you
mean, Ms. Barros?”
    Angelita shifted in her seat, wrung her hands in her
lap.   “At first he said he’d angered
some people in Brazil through his work with the consulate.   He said he needed my business to keep the
consulate open and