The Thing Speaks for Itself

A.S.A. Durphy

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Special Agent Gracie Stratis sat up straight in the passenger seat, her hands cold and damp. Her right fingers slowly worked the beads between thumb and pointer. The smooth orbs radiated warmth from the trip in her pocket. She was careful to keep them out of the driver’s line of sight, hidden behind her right leg. Special Agent Charles Davis drove the Ford Crown Vic, and she wanted to keep this little crutch to herself.

“What do you have in your right hand?” Charles said.

Damn, he was observant. “Keepsake.” She held them up for Charles to see. A loop of black woven cotton strung with round beads; one was ornate silver and the rest were glossy olive wood. Dots of red paint still clung to the smooth wood in places.
Charles glanced at her from under his gold-rimmed aviators. “Ah, komboloi. I was in Greece for a while. They love those things there. You Greek?”

Gracie shook her head, watching the road ahead. “No. My dad brought them back with him from Rhodes when I was a girl.”

“Your dad in the foreign service?” Charles said.

Gracie turned her attention to the world outside the passenger window. She watched the strip malls pass by. These had never been things of beauty. After years of use, they were now a refuge for struggling businesses. Peeling paint, signs with missing letters, and a good sprinkling of rust. These were the up-and-comers, wannabes, never-beens, and has-beens. And plenty of parking. The lectric Was land had seen better days. The Pump N Munch got right down to it. Fred’s elf Storage probably couldn’t fulfill on its promise. In big letters, Capital Buffet boasted Always Open, and just below hung a sign that read Closed.

“No, he wasn’t in the service,” Gracie said. She turned back to Charles. “What should we expect when we get to the house?” Gracie’s skin tingled and the dampness on her palms persisted. She flexed her hands. First the left then the right. Grateful for the strength of what was only a fractionally faded youth. Thirty still felt young. She leaned her head back against the headrest, projecting outward calm. A rookie in complete control. Ready to bust some serious trouble right in the mouth.

The Thing Speaks for Itself Description:

Gracie Stratis, special agent in the Diplomatic Security Service, wants nothing more than to see the world one embassy at a time. Plans change when she suffers grave injuries at the hands of would-be assassins. Her brother, Russel, brings her back to his Oakland home to recuperate. For Gracie, it’s a long road back to active duty, burdened by a hobbled mind and body.

Weeks into her recovery, an old friend mysteriously disappears. Gracie determines to find him, but every angle oozes trouble. Gracie must confront violent criminals with exacting genkan habits, the missing man’s imperious parents, a powerful mayor, and a shady corporation. Each step she takes pulls her closer to facing the dragons that lurk in her past and haunt her deteriorating mind. Time is running out for her friend, her recovery, and what was once a bright future.

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