Mob Princess - Tess DiRosa's Story
Copyright© 2025 by Argon
Chapter 10: Damsel in Distress
It was good that they postponed the drive home. Another six fake Jacksons had been spotted around Missoula, MT, and Gorman wanted them to pick up the counterfeit money and collect all available information, including interviewing the last known owners. Since it was still early enough, Tess made a run for a coin-operated laundry to get them a few sets of fresh underwear and shirts/blouses. The laundromat was a dump, but the machines worked. After scanning the other patrons, Tess did not risk their clothes and rather stayed put on a bench opposite ‘her’ washer, sitting with her back against a wall and with the entrance on her twelve.
She’d brought her tablet with her and perused news channels, when a young woman sitting to her right started visibly, a groan coming from her mouth. Looking forward, Tess saw an angry-looking man striding towards her seat neighbor, who was hastily dialing 911. Before the operator even came on, the man had grabbed the woman by the front of her shirt and pulled her up, hauling back for slapping her face. That forward movement, however, was stopped by Tess’s block, followed immediately by a leverage hold that forced the man to his knees.
“Federal Agent! You are under arrest for assault!” Tess announced firmly.
“Lemme go, stupid bitch! That’s my woman!”
“I’m not. I kicked his ass to the curb! I’ve got a restraining order, too!” the woman protested.
“Pick up your phone and call 911 again, Ma’am! Tell them to send a unit to pick up this gentleman. Tell them, a federal agent is on the scene and in control.”
The woman complied, righteous anger replacing the fear she had felt, and soon she had the operator on the line. Ten minutes later, two patrolmen of the BPD entered the laundromat, hands on their sidearms.
“Officers, I am Agent DiRosa, US Secret Service. This man assaulted the young lady here, and I interceded.” She grinned. “He’s all yours!”
“Thanks, Agent!” the senior patrolman answered. “Why, look at you, Jimmy! Picked the wrong place to slap Denise, didn’t you?”
“That bitch wasn’t fightin fair,” the man complained.
“And you think slapping a 100-pound woman is fair, Asshat?” Tess gave back. “Officer, the lady claims to have a restraining order against this hero.”
“Oh, we know. He must’ve come right out of the slammer from his last violation. Hey, Jimmy, whaddaya think the Judge will say now? Another two weeks? I don’t think so. More like two months.”
“She’s my woman. I wanter back!”
“She doesn’t want you back, you moron, and what she wants is what counts. Miss Hollis, will you be all right?”
The young woman nodded. She was a bit on the goth side, without ink but with dark eyeliner, contrasting with light blonde hair.
“I’m okay now. Would it be possible to alert me when he’ll be set free again?”
“Sorry, Ms. Hollis! Not our call. Sheriff runs the county slammer. Is it all right if we put Jimmy’s ass in the cruiser now?”
“Yeah. Take him away, please.” She looked at her ex-boyfriend. “I’ll be long gone before you get out. I’ve had it.”
“I’ll find’cha!”
“No, you won’t. Now that I have my degree, I can find work anywhere in the country. Go screw yourself!”
The last words were already directed at Jimmy’s back, as the cops dragged him out. Denise Hollis looked at Tess now.
“Thanks, Agent. That was a real pickle.”
“That’s okay, uhm ... Denise? You’re one of my employers when all is said.”
“If I may ask, you’re young, my age. How long have you been with the Secret Service.”
“I joined the Spokane office four months ago, fresh from the academies. I’m still a rookie.”
“Is anybody important in town?”
“No, rookies don’t get into protective details.”
“What does one need to get in with you guys?”
“A college degree helps, but military training or police work count, too. Then it’s thirteen weeks at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center in Georgia, and for the Secret Service, another 18 weeks in Laurel, Maryland. Then you’ll be a probie like me for a year. You have a business degree?”
“I earned a CPA.”
“They’ll just love you,” Tess grinned. “Here, let me give you my card. Call me if you want to know more.”
“I’ll give it a thought, thanks. Oh, look, your machine’s finished! Let me help!”
Not heeding Tess’s protest, Denise opened the washer and pulled the load into a basket.
“Oh, these are men’s shirts.”
“My boss ran out of clothes, too. He offered to take my stuff, but I prefer that he doesn’t see my knickers,” Tess giggled.
They loaded the dryer, and Tess fed it with the token, before she sat down again.
“I take it you worked your way through college?” she asked Denise, just to keep the conversation going and away from her job.
“Yes, I work for an escort and hostess service, the hostess side mostly. It’s all above board, no ... prostitution, you know. “I’m pretty good with presenting stuff, so I work conventions and such mostly.”
“Sounds like a great job.”
“Oh, yes, it is. I learned a lot from the different vendors and presenters. They also tip generously.”
Tess raised an eyebrow, and Denise grinned.
“Nothing sexual. Just bringing them sandwiches and coffee and giving them smiles.”
“Good for you. How’d you hook up with that fine young man?”
“Blind date. He was nice at first. Had money, too, and he’s driving a sports car. I was horny and stupid. He was a good lay, too, and only a little rough, good rough, you know?”
“It then got worse in small increments, right?”
“Yeah. It’s a good thing I’m not lacking self-esteem. When he slapped me the first time, I kicked him out. The next time, he came by my apartment drunk and tried to break in. I called the cops and got a restraining order. Three weeks ago, he was drunk again and banging on my door. You know the rest.”
“Well, you did everything right from where I stand.”
“Thanks. Do you have ... somebody?”
“I was seeing a girl before I joined the Academy, but we had to end it when we both joined. Before that, I had three boyfriends and sporadic fun with girls. I’m bi. For me, it’s the person, not the genitals.”
To Tess’s surprise, Denise giggled. “That’s a good way to see it. Two more guys like Jimmy, and you can give me a call.”
Twenty minutes later, the dryer buzzed, and Tess sorted the clothes into two plastic bags, one for herself and one for Robert Ball. Then it was time for the two women to part, and they did it with a hug.
“Call me anyway, no matter whether you want to become a LEO,” she told the girl.
“I will. Thanks for everything, Tess!”
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