Coventina (21 page)

AC.
I HAVE THE INFORMATION YOU WANTED.

Denise.
GREAT. HOW CAN I GET IT?

AC.
WHERE ARE YOU?

Denise.
UHM. NOT AT HOME.

AC.
CHECK YOUR EMAIL ASAP.

Denise.
CHECKING IT NOW.

She walked over and turned on the MacBook Air she’d packed, opened Safari and logged in to her Gmail account. Among a few emails from family and advertisers she saw an email from Bootsy titled Dreaming of YOU. She clicked on it to find nothing but a link. It reminded her of links she would avoid ever clicking on. She went back to her phone.

Denise.
BOOTSY?

AC.
YES.

She was just about to click on the link when Layla spoke. “Hey, everything alright?”

“Yes. Just checking email.”

“What time is it?

“Almost 11 p.m. local time.”

“Hmmmm.”

She clicked on the link that took her to a site requiring a password. She went back to her phone again.

Denise.
PASSWORD?

AC.
WHAT ARE YOU TO ME?

Denise keyed in the word sunshine and gained access to the page.

Read this page carefully computer brain as it cannot be copied and will disappear very soon. When you have finished reading it close out your browser and computer and clean everything up like I taught you. I want you to call me from a landline as soon as possible. It is of the UTMOST IMPORTANCE THAT YOU DO SO.

She doesn’t trust anyone, and for good reasons.
She followed AC’s instructions, first reading the page before shutting down her computer securely.

“Baby.”

“Hmmm?”

“I’ve got to get to a landline as soon as possible. I know how you worry about me so, do you want to come with or wait here?”

“Hhi’m uh comig with.” Layla said. Her eyes squinted once her head came out from under the covers.

“Think we can find a pizza at this hour?”

“Mmm, pizza.”

They stumbled around getting dressed and headed out to the Mustang that was parked in the hotel lot.

“Any idea which way to go?” Layla yawned.

“We would have to come back to a city without Starbucks,” Denise laughed. “There’s a place with a solid four star rating near here. Let me see. Go down this block and make a right.”

“Still lots of people out.”

“We’re looking for one of these,” Denise said, showing her an image of what pay phones look like.

“How are you going to pay?”

“Do you think they take American money?”

“Ooh, a spot.”

“Why are we stopping here?”

“I’ll be right back.” Layla walked across the street and into a Pharmacy. She returned in a few minutes with a few calling cards.

“See what some sleep can do for you?” Denise giggled.

“There was a phone in there but I get the feeling you want a little privacy. The guy inside said if we make a right at the next corner we will see a lot of payphones between here and the Colosseum.”

Midway down the next block Layla noticed a telephone and pulled over. They both got out of the car and walked over to it. “Do you know how to use this thing?”

“Nope.”

“Here,” Layla said, holding out her hand. “You break off the corner like this, simply stick in it there, and hope the phone works. Do you want some privacy?”

“Anything but. I need a second memory.”

Denise went through the motions and got a dial tone. She keyed in AC’s number and waited. “How much time do I have on this card?”

“Twenty dollars on each.”

“Hello.”

“Hi, it’s me.”

“Where are you?”

“Not at home or anywhere near it, why?”

“I won’t talk over the phone. You’re in fucking Rome?”

“Maybe.”

“She knows where we are?” Layla whispered.

Denise nodded yes.

“I want you to come to me if possible, and as soon as possible. Can you do that?”

“Well, you won’t talk over the phone so what choice do I have. Where are you?”

“Paris. How soon can you be here?”

“First thing in the morning okay?”

“How about ten in the morning Paris time?”

“I’ll see you then.”

“Great. Call me again, from a payphone when you get here. And Denise.”

“Yes?”

“Hide until you get out of there, and be careful.”

“You’re the second person to tell me that tonight.”

“I hope you can trust the first person who gave you that advice.”

“I can. Til tomorrow.”

The phone on the other end hung up.

“AC?” Layla asked.

“Yes. She would not talk over the phone. She wants to see me in person. She thinks we’re in danger.”

“Tell me something we don’t know. Where is she?”

“Paris.”

“So we’re going to Paris?”

“Oui.”

“Sweet.”

Paris

“I’m seriously craving coffee,” Denise said.

“I’m on my second latte. They make a fabulous latte up here,” Lucilla said.

Denise looked at Layla who was laughing. “Be nice.”

“Any changes to report?”

“No. It is a good thing this ship is so large or I don’t know what the mood might be.”

“You don’t have to stay there, but you must stay out of Europe at all costs, especially Rome.

“But you’re there.”

“Yes but I’m not sure for how long.”

“Have you found something, or someone?”

“I just cannot speak about it now. When I know more we will join you.”

“That is comforting. Things always seem more balanced when you are around.”

“Haa. I’ll be in touch my dear. Remember what I said.”

“I will pass it on.”

“How much longer?”

“Our estimated time of arrival is nine a.m. local time. The skies are clear with temperatures expected to be in the lower eighties. All in all you’re in for a gorgeous day in Paris.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“Let’s get on the ground.”

“Oh yeah.”

The Mustang touched down on Highway A6 appearing to be a red VW Golf. “There are quite a few Starbucks in Paris,” Layla grinned.

“And I’ve already got the address for the closest one.”

Denise directed her to the Starbucks on Avenue General Leclerc.

“Nowhere to park. It should be against the law to have No Parking near a Starbucks,” Layla said.

“There’s a spot around the corner.”

“Sweet.”

“It’s only quarter to ten.”

“How convenient is that? Pay phones right out in front.”

“Will these cards work here?”

“I doubt it,” Layla giggled.

“Coffee first.”

The Starbucks sold calling cards, so once their lattes were in hand, they walked back outside to the payphones where Denise slipped in her card and dialed AC’s number.

“Hello.”

“Lafayette, we are here,” Denise said.

“Okay. Come to 16 Rue de Poitou.”

“Is there parking in the neighborhood?”

“Yes. Ring all the bells at once when you arrive.”

“Right. See you in a bit.”

After heading back in to Starbucks for three more lattes, they made their way across Paris.

Layla drove past the address before finding a parking spot around the corner. They walked back around to the front door. “Ring all the bells at once,” Denise said. Layla did so, but they did not get an answer.

“Is this the right address?” Layla asked.

“Yes, at least I think so.”

“Wait, I hear someone coming.”

The door finally opened to reveal AC wearing a black wrap that covered her head. “Come in. Welcome to Paris.”

“Here,” Denise said, handing her a latte.

“You read my mind, again.”

“You don’t own that gallery on the ground level do you?”

“No. Actually they occupy the floor above it as well. It’s nice having your neighbors gone all night, every night.”

“What about the rest of the building?”

“Empty. Don’t worry, you’ll get to see it all.”

They followed AC up four flights of stairs to the top apartment. As was the case in any place AC called home, the walls were all white. Hanging on one wall adjacent to where she had a desk set up was a painting Denise had given her as a gift a few years earlier.

“You haven’t checked in to a hotel yet have you?”

“Nope. We came straight here,” Denise said.

“Layla. It is important for me to know that you understand the reasons for my distance with anyone new.”

“I can imagine that is absolutely necessary,” Layla said.

“Then I want you to know that any friend of Denise’s that comes as highly praised as yourself is welcome, and a friend of mine.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“Well then, let’s get started. First a tour of the place as you’ll be staying here while in Paris, that is unless for some foolish reason you would rather not.”

“Lead the way,” Denise smiled.

She guided them to the apartment directly beneath her. It had a unique and different appearance to it even though all the walls in it were white. “You can stay here while in Paris. It will be cheaper for you and much safer.”

“I have felt like an air-conditioned gypsy lately but answer me one thing please.”

“Of course,” AC said.

“Why would we want to stay here, in Paris, when our business is in Rome?”

“To stay alive. You can do all your planning from here. I have a feeling that at least until I am finished with what I am working on, you will be safer here than you would be in Makanda.”

“Finished with what you are working on?” Layla asked.

“I believe I have sorted out any and all characters who may remotely have knowledge of two women, who could be men in disguise, that freed, and rather ruthlessly I might add, a certain woman from the U.K. who was kidnapped while traveling to Rome.”

“You got all of that out of the data from those phones?” Denise asked.

“I’ll explain it all to you shortly. I hope you like the furnishings.” Every couch, chair and beddings were a deep purple, right down to the towels and washcloths in the bathroom.

“It looks like we will be very comfortable thank you. How much is the rent?”

AC looked at Denise and squinted. “I was thinking that ten dollars a day was a fair price, along with some of your home cooked meals, especially your lasagna.”

“I think I can swing that, but you know, I’ve seen nothing here in Europe yet the likes of a Jewel Foods or a Kroger.”

“Oh there are plenty of places to shop for all you will need.”

“AC.”

“Yes Layla.”

“What do I call you, you know, around other people?”

“You can call me Aja.”

“Goat.”

“Yes. Goats are extremely curious and intelligent. My parents were both big Steely Dan fans. My mother had the cover of Katy Lied painted on one of her stereo speakers that I remember from when I was very young.”

“Same here with Layla.”

“So, how can you afford to rent us this place so cheap?” Denise asked.

“I own this half of the block?”

Leaving Las Vegas

Denise reached for her ringing phone while on the way to the market. “Bonjour.”

Layla just looked at her and laughed.

“Bonjour? Don’t tell me you’re taking French lessons,” Lucilla said.

“J’ai pense a ce sujet.”

“Oh, vous avez. Eh bien nous pouvons mener de longues conversations en Francais. Comment excitant.”

“You speak French too?”

“And Spanish, oh, and a touch of Swedish.”

“I am even more impressed.”

“We’re coming down there, well not there but somewhere. Can I tell you?”

“Yes.”

“I have to get them back on the ground with distractions other than each other and the stars Denise, so I suggested going somewhere touristy and crazy like uhm, Vegas.”

“Vegas? Really? That’s fabulous. A town full of international travelers, it’s genius really. When?”

“Within the hour.”

“How are you set for cash?”

“Are you kidding me? You’ve handed about a dozen envelopes off to me. We’ll be just fine.”

“Well let me know where you wind up okay. Make sure you call from your phone or another that is secure okay?”

“I will, thanks. Enjoy your stay in Francais.”

“We will, thanks.”

What Lucilla did not say, was that she and Marcus has already been dropped off and were leaving Las Vegas in a van rental that seats twelve people, heading to a rendezvous to collect the other nine members. She had already purchased plenty of water and snacks, ‘just in case’, since they would be traveling through a desert on the way to the west coast. Her plans were to end up back in Las Vegas at some point if the overall mood lightened. Being so near the desert would also make it easy to be picked up and return ‘upstairs’ if needs be.

This trip was also a way for Lucilla to help her decide what her answer would be to Marcus about leaving or staying when the time came. She’d resigned herself to the fact that she was in love with him, and was certain he was in love with her.

She also wanted to see first hand, some of the region where many Native Americans flourished at the time the Roman Empire was at its peak.

The others appeared some fifty yards away from where she and Marcus were waiting in the van. In the bright sunlight there was no way she could tell they were gently deposited there by Aya, or Mys.

“For those of you who have never set foot on American soil before, welcome to my country.”

“It all looks so vast from the air,” Anna said.

“Thank you,” Conventina said.

Maria and Diana just smiled, their arms still around their legionnaires.

Crossing the flatness of the desert had the mood in the van rather subdued. It was not until they approached the greener hills in California that Anna spoke. “Ooh, I like that song.”

On the radio the song playing was Pavement Cracks by Annie Lennox. Diana started singing to it quietly, “The city streets are wet again with rain, But I’m walkin’ just the same, Skies turn to the usual gray, When you turn to face the day.”