52 So Much Left Unsaid

She can’t put her finger on a single lipstick stain
Perfume doesn’t linger on a shirt on
There’s no matchbook in his pocket with a number and name
So why does she still hurt

‘Cause a woman knows, when there’s another woman
She can feel her, all over her man
A woman knows, when there’s another woman
You can’t fool her, so don’t try to think you can

What she don’t know, won’t hurt her
That’s what he tells himself
So he hides his cheatin’ heart inside his chest
He thinks he’s put one over, but what he don’t know is
He’s already confessed

‘Cause a woman knows, when there’s another woman
She can feel her, all over her man
A woman knows, when there’s another woman
You can’t fool her, so don’t try to think you can

A woman knows, when there’s another woman
You can’t fool her, so don’t try to think you can

Franziska Von Karma and Shi-Long Lang
Discreet Surveillance Van, Wa Sing Ku’s Neighborhood, Borginia
August 8, 2024, 1:00 AM

“Have that camera drone zoom in a bit closer,” Lang instructed, squinting at the screen. “I don’t know how she managed to do it but even in that tiny getup that perv made her change into, Agent Skye somehow managed to keep her wire on! The question is, how?”

“The better question is, where?” Badd chuckled as he complied with the instructions. “There’s barely anything covering her! I mean, I’m sure Ku isn’t complaining! By the way, she’s still more covered than half the women and men at that orgy pool party…”

“I’m amazed,” Kay admitted, grinning at them as she momentarily removed the left side of the headphone away from her ear. “She’s managed to keep her clothes, wits, and wire about her. I can hear everything clear as day!”

“Detective Badd,” Franziska gritted her teeth as she gripped the back of his chair so hard, her knuckles turned white. “As the more reasonable of the two of you gentlemen, could you kindly hand me another tablet so that I may properly do my job and better partake in surveillance of the situation, thus no longer need to force my way over there and attempt to view the screen over Agent Lang’s gigantic head?”

“I said negative to your request the first time, Miss Claws of Steel, and I meant it! Even though you’re content to try to talk around me as if I’m not here, in the manner of a petulant child, the answer is still no!” The Wolf Man barked before the flatfoot could reply. “You know damn well the reason I refuse to give you another device is that you’ve already broken two of them!”

He gestured to the busted two slate computers sitting to the right of Kay’s seat, one with an irreparably cracked screen and the other split nearly in half.

“Ergo, in the currently unhinged state of mind that you’re in, I refuse to give you another one until you get a hold of that temper of yours and stop being such a hormone monster! Do you have any idea how much those things cost?!”

“Interestingly enough, those are tablets are certified military spec and supposedly indestructible.” Badd popped his ever-present lollipop back into his mouth to disguise his smirk as Lang glowered. “However did a tiny thing like you manage to do that, anyway? What do you do on the side, Franziska? Crack walnuts? Shuck oysters?”

Despite the van being just roomy enough for the four of them and their surveillance equipment, it was also, most fortunately for her colleagues, not large enough for the ex-prosecutor to have room to unleash her wrath with her whip. A glare that would have bored holes through a wall was the detective’s recompense for his quip, instead.

“The first one was probably around the time Lana nearly tripped and had to lean against Mr. Edgeworth for the rest of the night,” Kay reminded them, as though anyone had forgotten. “I think that may have been the one she cracked in two…”

“I am about to be cracking a few skulls in another moment!” The pregnant femme threatened, returning Lang’s furious glare with one of her own. “Starting with my über friendly fiancé and his inexcusable proximity to the now practically nude Schlampe with whom he is cavorting in that pool!”

“For the record, Lana is not in the pool, she’s still sitting outside on the edge…” The Zheng-Fa denizen began but the fiery Agent interrupted him.

“Do not dare to try sidetracking me with semantics, you fool!” The silver-haired Frau snarled. “She is been draped all over my Miles like a cheap Straßenmädchen the entire night and you expect me to keep calm and carry on about this?!”

Lang closed his eyes for a moment and clasped his palms together tightly as if praying for strength before replying.

“I understand your delicate condition, which may be clouding your impartial judgment now, Agent Von Karma, and thus taking a potshot at a fellow Agent and dubbing them a streetwalker but what I expect is for you to put your petty jealousies aside and remain professional!”

“This has nothing to do with me being with child!”

“She’s probably telling the truth, Agent Lang,” the Great Thief offered helpfully. “It’s just in her nature to be possessive and irrational when it comes to Mr. Edgeworth.”

The Yatagarasu crossed her arms and shrugged at the furious look the firey German shot her.

“Quit glaring at me already! You know it’s true! Mr. Edgeworth told me about the time that you threw a hissy fit when I swiped his phone from him and answered it when you called that one time! You erupted like Mount Vesuvius and you weren’t even having his baby back then!”

“I do believe it is high time I fired my unsolicited defense attorney here.” Franziska narrowed her eyes at the raven-haired Agent. “Should you not be paying attention to whatever is transpiring at that party rather than jabbering nonsensically with these trite anecdotes that are personal in nature?”

Whether or not they are true is completely beside the point!

“Stingy pants! We, the defense counsel, are subject to so much ingratitude!” Kay lifted a brown-gloved hand to her mouth to cover her amused snicker as she turned back to her screen with another shrug. “That’s
one client I’m not going to bother trying to defend again!”

“Looks like Lana’s leaving the pool area now,” Badd suddenly reported, his sharp eyes peering intently at his screen. “Edgeworth has arranged some sort of deal for next week – but Ku hasn’t agreed to deliver any of the goods requested until Mr. Banks scratches his back first.”

“Crafty son of a bitch,” Lang grumbled. “Although I suspected as much. Do we have the details of the demands?”

“We’ve got the gist,” Badd nodded. “Pretty sure they can fill us in more on things during the debriefing. We gonna steer this thing and head back to HQ?”

“Affirmative. They know to meet us back there when all is said and done. It will be a very interesting and I trust, civilized exchange of information amongst us…”

Lang cast a wary glance at Franziska, who had crossed her arms defiantly and turned her back to the group now, refusing to look at any of them.

The van ride back to the office was filled with stony silence.

Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma
Interpol Headquarters, Borginia
August 8, 2024, 2:00 AM

The four colleagues were sitting on the edge of their seats in eager anticipation for the return of the playboy and his “playmate.”

Carrying a large coffee cup in her hands, Lana entered first, wearing Mile’s suit jacket draped over her shoulders, along with a drained expression. Her cohort was in tow, looking just as exhausted but with a slightly more triumphant countenance but his features slowly morphed into a mask of consternation as he advanced on the quartet and saw Franziska’s foreboding mien.

Nobody spoke a word as the two lovers stared at one another, gray eyes on grey eyes, one set looking confused and slightly guilty; the other downright mutinous.

The tension in the room was so thick that it was almost visible.

That’s when the ninja cleared her throat and attempted to break the ice.

“Sooo…” Kay’s voice trailed off awkwardly when it appeared that nobody was in a rush to speak first. “Um, since it’s clear no one else is going to bother introducing us…”

With a resigned shrug, she affixed a welcoming beam, rose from her chair, and approached the brunette with an extended palm.

“I’m Agent Kay Faraday. It’s so nice to finally be able to put a face to the voice on the phone from earlier.” Her bright green eyes sparkled with their customary affable twinkle.  “Agent Lang and Uncle Badd have told me so much about you tonight that I feel like I already know you, Lana.”

She smirked at Miles’s fiancée and confided in a stage whisper.

“Also, I heard quite a bit about you from Franziska too but I’m going to ignore most of that!”

The ex-detective smiled uncertainly, then tentatively shook the proffered hand.

“That’s probably a good call,” she agreed cautiously, pretending to ignore the darted look the German woman shot her. “Pleased to meet you, Kay.”

“Well, now that everyone has made all the niceties and been properly introduced…” Franziska’s inflection held the sharpness of a Tachi blade as she cast a pointed glare at Lang. “Could I politely and professionally now request for Agent Skye to remove my fiancé’s attire from her person, post-haste?”

Miles let out a soft groan and clapped a hand on his forehead.

“Ngh! Franziska…”

“Franziska, what?” She snapped. “The sting act is over for the night and your undercover arm candy is no longer posing as your plaything, so why is she still wearing your clothing? Is it not sufficient that she already had you draped all over her the entire night?”

Lana recoiled slightly and let out a pained grunt.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Is your voice always this shrill?” She rubbed her temples. “Ugh, my poor head…”

“Shrill?” Franziska’s unhinged tone rose a few octaves until it transformed into a full, ear-splitting falsetto. “I cannot believe your audacity, you little … Schlampe! Take. It. Off!”

“I will do anything you want if it’ll make you turn it down a notch,” Lana moaned and dropped her skull into one hand. Shrugging off the offending item, she waved it at her undercover partner to take back. “Lucifer’s nipples! My aching head…”

Miles retrieved the jacket swiftly, beyond mortified at his fiancée’s truculent behavior. He wasn’t sure if the others were equally fluent in German and knew that Lana had just been called a slut but he certainly was! Moreover, he was stumped about how to handle his lover’s ire, especially when he couldn’t understand what had caused it, this time!

“Are you all right, Lana?” Lang asked worriedly, ignoring the fuming silver-haired woman for the moment and placing a hand on the Agent’s bare shoulder. “What’s wrong with your head?”

“Are you cold? Take my jacket,” Badd offered graciously, dropping his enormous, battered trench coat over the slumped woman’s shoulders. The brunette smiled gratefully as she took another sip from her Styrofoam cup.

“Er, Lana accidentally ingested a bit more alcohol than initially intended at the party,” Miles admitted sheepishly. “Hence, our slight delay in returning here, as I’d stopped at a donut shop along the way so I could get her a coffee.”

Lang frowned slightly.

“I understand you had to try to blend in with the scene, Lana, but I can’t say I’m too impressed with your inability to handle your liquor intake the first night of the operation…”

“Ugh, I didn’t load up on purpose!” The faux Debbie Dallas drained the last of her java and set it aside. “That party was one gigantic orgy ready to happen and the scene was perfectly set, what with champagne waterfalls and wine fountains and spiked punch and even booze-soaked desserts as the sole fodder there! Did none of you believe me when I told you guys I was a lightweight? Plus, since I was too nervous to eat much dinner, I was so careful to only consume one glass of champagne an hour into the party.”

“Unfortunately, the poor thing inadvertently consumed a huge glass of the spiked punch and two rum-infused desserts, being none the wiser until it was too late,” Miles finished loyally.

“Is that right?” Franziska arched an eyebrow. “Is that why you two looked so cozy on camera then?”

The barrister barely stifled another groan as the reason for the tempestuous beauty’s unveiled ire became apparent. Of course! The surveillance cameras … the overhead drones … Interpol had been watching the action unfold all night and no doubt his fiancée had seen the supposed coziness between him and Lana and fully misconstrued the whole damn thing!

“Lana was wearing four-inch stilettos on a cobblestone patio, meine Dame,” he explained patiently. “Also, as she just elucidated, since she was running on an empty stomach and unexpectedly ended up tipsy, she was thence in need of something to stabilize her and as her escort for the night, the onus was upon me to ensure she didn’t fall flat on her face! However, it may have appeared on the screens, I was a human crutch for the night, nothing more. We had a part to play and we simply did our best.”

“I was only wearing his jacket because I caught a nasty chill being outdoors in this skimpy ensemble and then was forced to wear an even skimpier one by the pool for that creepy lecher, Ku, to save face. Subsequently, I caught an even worse draft!” Lana added, looking Franziska right in the eye. “Miles was simply being a gentleman.”

The pregnant hormone monster broke eye contact first and the former Chief Prosecutor barely stifled a scream of frustration.

“Christ on a Crouton, Franziska! Contrary to how it may have appeared, I was not trying to make the moves on your fiancé, alright?” Lana exclaimed righteously. “You know what really cheeses my whistle? That you’re failing to grasp how this was all just as uncomfortable for me as it was for him! After all, I’m engaged as well, I’ll have you know!”

“You are betrothed?” Franziska regarded her skeptically just as the stunned Miles blurted out: “To whom?”

“Yes, I am.” The accused opted to answer her contender’s question first. “And have been for the past five years.”

“Is that right?” Lady Von Whippingberg persisted, eying the agent’s barren finger doubtfully. “So where is your engagement ring, then?”

“Um, I don’t have one right now. It was … an impromptu proposal.” Lana blushed slightly. “Jake’s er, currently incarcerated right now…”

“Marshall?” Miles gaped at her. “You’re engaged to Jake Marshall?”

“I am.” The brunette lifted her chin piously. “Right before I came over to Europe to commence training, Jake proposed to me and asked me to wait for him. “To hold the power of affection and maintain the roots of love, you must stay trusted. And I not only accepted but I promised him that I would do just that.”

Putting this new information with the other explanations they’d divulged, ultimately the innocence behind the incriminating evidence on the tape did all make sense, Franziska was forced to admit, as her anger
fizzled a notch.

Nonetheless, there was something else that was bothering her. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, which she’d taken note of on that camera, and what the others seemed to have missed entirely, which just wouldn’t allow her to renounce her words or actions just yet.

There were so many things left unsaid that she still yearned to know.

It wasn’t just the actions between Lana and Miles so much as the unspoken overall intimate exchange between the two, which she’d been witnessing all night.

The looks … the overall vibe … the lingering glances. How much of it had merely been part of the act?  Was her fiancé truly just an Academy Award-worthy actor or was there more to this story than he had let on? Moreover, would Miles confirm her suspicions if she inquired later in private? Or would he just wave away her doubts as petty unfounded insecurities yet again?

So many questions, so few answers.

Ergo, she opted to remain mum and let her colleagues continue. Miles was quiet as well – he remained visibly poleaxed by Lana’s betrothal news, Franziska noted perspicaciously.

“Well, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I’m going to demand the question the fellas here are too polite to ask!” Kay announced. “Where did you manage to manage to stash that wire in that itty-bitty bikini, Lana?”

The new Agent grimaced.

“Best not to ask; I’d rather not speak of this subject ever again!” She reached into her bra and recovered the device, tossing it at Lang, who caught it easily. “But for the record, that thing chafes like a bitch.”

“Nice job, Lana,” the Wolf Man praised. “Great work tonight, both of you. I know some events must have been a tad embarrassing but that was some pretty clever thinking, using that monthly feminine excuse to allude to why you didn’t go into the pool when Ku asked.”

“You could have, you know.” Badd removed his sucker from his mouth. “That thing is waterproof.”

Lana grunted. “Now you tell me!”

She then fixed her indignant eyes on Lang.

“I was the agent, and Miles was the escort, technically, even though Ku didn’t know that! So why couldn’t he have been the one who got stuck with that damn wire?”

“It would have been the same outcome even if you’d gone with Badd or me, assuming either one of us could have convincingly played the part of a billionaire playboy, which we most certainly could not! The reason you had to wear it, Ms. Dallas, was because you were the innocent, arm-candy bimbo.” Lang shrugged. “Nobody ever suspects the bimbo.”

The word bimbo, yet again, on top of the unknown foreign disparagement Franziska had hurled at her (which she didn’t quite understand but knew had been intended as an insult) was a bit much for Lana after everything she’d endured that night. Without preamble, she sprung up out of her seat, stalked up to the Zheng-Fa native, drew back her fist, and delivered an ultra-sharp jab right onto his unsuspecting arm.

“Ouch!” Lang’s dark eyes shot daggers at her as he clutched his mildly injured left shoulder, where Lana’s surprisingly strong, practiced blow had connected. “What the hell was that for?”

“What was it for?” She fumed, glaring back at him. “ Tonight, I was intoxicated, nearly froze to death, was degraded and paraded around like a floozy, groped, sexually harassed… and to top it all off, laughed at by some actual rent-a-date jezebel with the stripper name of Destiny Wilder for my even more depraved one of Debbie Dallas!”

“Debbie Dallas?” Kay echoed in surprise. “Wait, isn’t that the name of a…”

“Oh, yeah, right … that,” Lang smirked and rubbed his arm. “Sorry about that, Agent Skye.”

“Was that your idea of spiteful revenge because I vetoed your equal attempts at debasing hilarity, Candy Cane and Lana Kane?” She demanded crossly, hands-on-hips. “You decided to name me after a porn star?”

“Objection! Debbie Does Dallas is the name of a famous X-rated adult film, not its female star,” the Agent guffawed. “I couldn’t recall the name of that skin flick actress if my life had depended on it…”

“Are you missing the point on purpose? Or need I make it with your other arm?” Lana’s teal eyes were blazing. “I was utterly humiliated tonight because of your sick, twisted, perverse sense of humor!”

“Not so fast!” Lang was cracking up now, even though he held up a placating hand as he did so. “Ameliorate your money-makers, please! Sick and twisted I can admit to being but there was no perversion intended, I swear! Every pack has its own rules and as leader of this one, I make a tradition of subjecting all my rookie cubs to a little harmless razzing once they’re on board. An impromptu initiation of sorts.  Sometimes, said hazing consists of giving them a name they don’t particularly care for. Isn’t that right – pretty boy?”

The Wolverine lookalike cocked a wolfish grin at Miles, who scowled back but tersely nodded in reply.

“However, I’m very sorry if you were embarrassed tonight because of it, Lana.” He flashed his most disarming smile. “Sounds like the only person who gave you a hard time about your name was an actual bimbo, so, in the end, does her opinion even matter?”

“Fine. I forgive you,” Lana sighed deeply. “It was just the principle of it all, being judged by a cheap floozy that rents her body by the hour – who then proceeded to shamelessly flaunt it about by parading around nude in the pool with the other drunken debauched bunch. Ultimately, I honestly shouldn’t give a rat’s ass about what some hired piece of tail, who believes she’s hot shit on a silver platter but is just cold diarrhea in a Dixie cup, thinks of me!”

Kay snorted loudly at this colorful depiction, while Badd had to pop his candy back in his mouth to mask his own snickering.

“I recall seeing that naked pool licentiousness she speaks of on the cameras, as well.” Franziska finally spoke. “What sort of depraved party did our inside mole lure them to, Agent Lang?”

“We’re Interpol Agents, not moralists or priests,” Lang shrugged. “And we got the job done, so what does it matter if the man you went to arrange business with is rich as hell but morally bankrupt? No skin off our backs, right?”

“Well, I suppose you are right about that but…”

“The timing couldn’t have been better, we wrapped up the deal just as things were getting uncomfortably boisterous,” Miles spoke up. “We managed to leave the premises just as the host began doing cocaine lines off Miss Wilder’s bare bosom…”

“Shit fire and save matches already! That’s quite enough!” Badd held up a hand. “We have it on tape, Miles. No need to paint us a tawdry picture of the debauchery that you did or didn’t partake in tonight!”

“Of course, I didn’t! Nor did I have any desire to!” The prosecutor was annoyed. “And no matter what indignities Lana was subjected to tonight, there’s no way in hell I would have allowed anything of such depraved magnitude to happen to her!”

There it was again, Franziska noted, narrowing her eyes. That defensive, almost jealous vibe within her fiancé; the same one she’d noted when she’d viewed Lana being subjected to lascivious attention from Ku at the party. At the time, she’d tried to convince herself he’d been merely playing the part of attentive, protective boyfriend to the hilt because he’d very been heavily aware Interpol was watching his every move on camera.

Franziska’s nostrils flared and her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Engaged or not, her gut instincts warned her that Lana Skye was nowhere near as innocent as she tried to appear. Not when the German woman could see that protectiveness manifesting itself on Miles’ face in conjunction with that Verdammte Schlampe for the umpteenth time that night!

And this time, there were no cameras around…

Kenny Chesney – A Woman Knows