by Bryan Davis
Kelly looked back at the van, her face drooping sadly. “By the way, Francesca figured it all out. She knows her mother’s dead. She’s been crying ever since you got on the phone.”
Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he stepped toward the van and looked through the front passenger window. Gunther was helping Francesca climb into the back. Even from where he stood, he could see her reddened, tear-streaked face.
Nathan took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Just let her cry. I know how she feels.”
“How long did you cry when your parents died?”
“I don’t know.” As a slight tremble crossed his lips, he firmed his chin to quell it. “I haven’t stopped crying yet.”
“Sorry. Stupid question.” She brushed her hand tenderly along his forearm. “Where does Nikolai live?”
Nathan ambled toward the van. “He’s in Iowa City, but he insisted on meeting us in Davenport in an hour to save time. He gave me an address, and he’s already on his way.”
Walking beside him, she nodded toward the highway “Davenport is right across the river. Gunther said we’re near the border, so it shouldn’t be far at all.”
“Yeah, that’ll help.” Nathan continued his stroll toward the van. He wanted to complain about having to wait even an hour but it’d just be empty grousing. He had thought about getting Gunther to take them straight to the observatory site. Then he could drive Francesca to Iowa City, but that would be too much of a risk. What would happen if he got caught with her, or something happened to her, and she couldn’t vouch for him? He’d be in jail the rest of his life … or worse. They’d just have to take their chances that this dimension’s time was screaming along.
When Nathan opened the van door, Gunther was sitting alone in the front, reaching over the seat and caressing Francesca’s head as she lay on a mat in the back. Curled in a fetal position and heaving an occasional spasm, she clutched a stuffed rabbit tightly in her arms.
“I told her about Mr. Bunn,” Gunther said. “My little sister left him here months ago. Francesca climbed back there and laid down, so I sang her a lullaby. I guess she went to sleep to escape my voice.”
Half closing his eyes to ward off the tears, Nathan smiled weakly. “Thanks, Gunther.”
Kelly slid in first, followed by Nathan. “I found a place for Francesca,” he said.
“You did?” Gunther’s brow arched up, but his tone seemed less than joyful. “Where?”
“Her violin teacher in Iowa City. They’re childless, so they’re really excited.”
Gunther started the van. “That’s not too far. Little over an hour.”
“He said he’d meet us in Davenport in the Galvin Fine Arts Center at St. Ambrose University.”
“I know where that is.” Gunther shifted the gear and twisted to see behind him as he backed out. “Fifteen minutes. Twenty, tops.”
“Better take it easy, though. If anything happens and we’re caught with a supposedly kidnapped girl, we’d never see the light of day especially you. If you want, we could drop you off somewhere, then take her to Nikolai, and pick you up later.”
“Don’t worry about me.” He shifted again and punched the accelerator. “This little girl lost her mama. I’d do anything for her.”
While traveling just under the speed limit on Interstate 88 westbound, Nathan told the entire story as quickly as possible, relating every detail he could remember, finishing with the disarming of the shotgun-wielding murderer and their transport to the future location of Interfinity Labs, which happened to lie right in the path of the tornado. “So, now we have to try to get Francesca’s life back in order. She has to eventually meet Solomon Shepherd and marry him on the twentieth of December in nineteen eighty-six.”
Gunther glanced at his rearview mirror. “So do I tell all this stuff to her violin teacher … what was his name? Nikolai?”
“Nikolai Malenkov. I guess you’ll have to. He needs to know that someone’s out to kill Francesca. He can’t protect her otherwise.”
“True, but I could keep an eye on her, too, help her find Solomon, kind of guide their steps until they meet each other.”
“You want to be her guardian angel?” Nathan asked.
“Sure. Why not?”
Francesca let out a whimper from the back but soon quieted.
Kelly lowered her voice. “Wouldn’t that take too much time? I mean, you have your own life to live.”
Gunther matched her low tone. “You probably noticed that I’m not exactly a normal guy. I mean, I’m a truck driver who believes this crazy story you’re telling me. I might not be the best student around, but it doesn’t take a genius to see that there’s a higher power behind all this cross-dimensional weirdness, so maybe this is exactly what I was meant to do.” He gave his shoulders a light shrug. “I only have a semester to go. I’ll find a job near Iowa City and be her invisible guardian.”
Kelly gave him a peck on the cheek. “You’re a special man, Gunther.”
“Yeah,” Nathan said. “We’ll never forget you for this.”
Gunther’s face flushed. “Just stay away from twisters for a while. I can’t be waiting for you out on wilderness roads every time you pick a fight with one.”
When they arrived at the university, Gunther parked in the Galvin Center’s nearly empty lot. Only an MG roadster, an old red pickup truck, and a motorcycle occupied any of the fifty or so spaces.
Nathan jumped out and searched the area for Nikolai, hoping he could find a much younger version of his mother’s gentle music teacher. As he crossed the parking lot, Kelly hurried to join him. “Any sign of Nikolai?”
“Not yet. I remember seeing the Earth Red version of him driving a nice BMW, so I don’t think he’d own anything like what’s already parked here. I told him what the van looks like, so maybe he’ll find us.”
“Has it been an hour?”
“Just about. He should be here soon.”
She nodded toward the building. “Won’t hurt to take a look inside, will it?”
“Wait!” Nathan pointed at a light blue Volvo turning into the parking lot. “That looks more his speed.”
As the Volvo pulled in next to the van, the driver rolled down the window. A thin-faced man with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair glanced around nervously before speaking in a friendly but serious tone. “Are you Nathan Shepherd?”
“Yes.” Nathan bent over to address him directly. “Nikolai?”
“Yes, yes.” He craned his neck, sticking his head farther out the window as he lowered his voice. “Where is Francesca?”
Nathan pointed at Gunther’s vehicle. “In the van. I thought you said you were bringing your wife.”
He gave a rapid nod, still speaking softly. “I was, to be sure, but I received a call immediately after yours warning me not to retrieve Francesca. It was a man, a friendly man, actually, who said I would be endangering her life.” He checked his rearview mirror and glanced at the fine arts center before continuing. “I couldn’t leave you waiting for me, so I sent my wife to a safe place and came alone.”
“Do you think someone’s watching your house?”
“I believe so, and perhaps for quite some time, but I was unaware of it until that moment. When I left my house, I became much more watchful and noticed a green pickup truck parked at the curb two blocks away. I am quite sure I saw the same vehicle later on the interstate, but it passed me, and the driver did not even offer a glance.”
Nathan straightened and scanned the area, stretching his arms to make it look like he was yawning rather than conducting a search. “No sign of the truck, but I’ll bet —” Although he stopped talking, he kept turning. “Don’t look now, but I spotted a guy with binoculars behind a tree near that house across the street.”
Nikolai stiffened, and his voice grew jittery. “Do you have a suggested course of action?”
“We need to do something they won’t expect.” Nathan looked at the entrance to the center — three double doors bor
dered by brick columns that rose to the roof. “Do you know this place?”
“I have performed here three times. It was the only destination in the city I could remember.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Nathan turned back to Nikolai. “Can you lead us to the stage?”
“Of course.” Nikolai pushed his door open and got out. “It’s easy to find.”
Nathan collected his mirror and violin from the van and headed for the door with Nikolai, while Gunther, carrying the still sleeping Francesca, followed a few steps behind. Nathan glanced back to check on Kelly. Trailing by several yards, she shuffled along and kept a watchful eye.
As soon as they passed through the entry door, the lovely sounds of someone practicing Dvořák’s magnificent cello concerto greeted their ears. Whoever the cellist was had just begun an early measure of the solo portion and hit every note with vigor and ringing clarity. It sounded like the music was coming from the other side of an open door at the end of a hallway directly in front of them.
“The stage is in there,” Nikolai said, pointing at the door.
Nathan lifted the mirror. The reflection slowly altered, changing from his tired pale face to a dim room of some kind. As the image sharpened, a small stuffed rabbit came into view. He smiled, laughing under his breath. “Mr. Bunn!”
“Mr. Bunn?” Kelly jogged to catch up and looked over his shoulder. “What does it mean?”
“It means we can use my idea.” He strode through the door and hurried down the stairs at the side of the seating area, then climbed up to the stage. As he passed by the cellist sitting at the middle of the raised platform, Nathan gave him a nod. “Nice touch.”
The cellist, a young man with long arms and a bright smile, lifted his bow. “Thanks.”
“Mind if we look around?” Nathan asked as he continued into the backstage area.
“Sure. Go ahead.”
As the others caught up, Nathan scanned the paneled gray floor. “We need sheets, robes, cloaks, anything like that.”
“Curtains?” Kelly asked, lifting a wad of black material.
Nathan picked up another wad, an old red curtain. “I guess they took down these old ones and replaced them.”
“Perhaps they use different curtains for different events,” Nikolai said.
“I think they’ll work.” Nathan draped the black curtain over Francesca and tucked it around Gunther’s arms. “Nikolai, will you bring these back when we’re done?”
He nodded. “Of course.”
After setting down the violin and mirror, Nathan held out his arms, fashioning a cradle. “Okay, Kelly, up you go.”
Kelly pointed at herself. “You’re going to carry me?”
“Sure. You’re not much bigger than Francesca. All bundled up, no one will know the difference.”
She set her fists on her hips. “Thanks. Like I needed another short joke.”
Nathan set one arm on Kelly’s back and slid another behind her knees. With a slight grunt, he hoisted her into his arms. “You and I will go with Nikolai in his car. That way, they’ll probably think I have her.”
She laid her arm around Nathan’s neck. “What if they don’t?”
He eyed Francesca’s bare feet protruding from under the curtain. “She took her shoes off,” he whispered.
“Not a problem.” Gunther shifted the black material and covered her feet.
“No. Leave them uncovered.” Nathan cocked his head toward Nikolai. “Take Kelly’s shoes and put them on Francesca.”
“Ah!” Nikolai smiled as he transferred Kelly’s Nike’s to Francesca. “An excellent plan! I’ll remove her socks as well.”
After her shoes and socks came off, Kelly wiggled her toes. “I have polish on my nails, and it’s cherry red.”
“Let’s hope he can’t tell from where he is.” Nathan turned toward the front of the stage. “Okay, cover Kelly and make sure her bare feet stick out, but not so much that it’s obvious.”
Nikolai draped the red curtain over Kelly, leaving her toes uncovered. “I believe we are ready to go,” he said. “I will get your violin and mirror.”
“Curl up, Kelly,” Nathan said. “Try to make yourself smaller.”
He could feel her tuck her knees up and nestle her head against his chest. “Like this?” she asked, her voice muffled.
“Yeah.” He pushed out a quick breath. “Good thing you’re a lightweight.”
Her voice sharpened. “I weigh one hundred and eight pounds!”
“Feels like one oh seven. I told you to eat more French fries.” Nathan began marching toward the stage’s stairway. As he passed the cellist again, he gave him another nod. “Keep up the good work.”
The cellist stared at him. “Yeah. Thanks.”
When they reached the door, Nathan whispered to Gunther, “Don’t look at the stalker. Let’s just load them up and get out of here. I’ll head north. You head south. Let’s meet where you picked us up.”
Gunther shifted Francesca a bit higher. “Sure thing.”
Nikolai jogged ahead and opened the van and car doors, allowing Gunther and Nathan to set their loads down in the back. After closing the door, Nathan extended his hand toward Nikolai. “Mind if I drive? If they’re out to kill Francesca, it could get dicey.”
Nikolai pulled out his keys and dropped them in Nathan’s hand. “An excellent suggestion.”
While Nathan started the car, Nikolai hurried around to the passenger’s side and set the violin and mirror on the floorboard in front of him.
Giving Gunther a nod, Nathan eased out of the parking lot and headed for the main highway. “I’ll take a direct route to see if he’s following us.”
Kelly spoke up from the back. “Do I have to stay hidden and miss all the action?”
“If anything happens, I’ll give you a blow-by-blow.” When he reached Highway 61, he turned north and punched the accelerator. “Do you see anyone behind us?”
Nikolai looked back. “I cannot tell. There are many cars, but no obvious followers.”
“Maybe when we get to the interstate, we’ll be able to spot a green truck. They’ll have to use that route to cross the river to get to Illinois.”
After a minute or two of silence, Nathan asked, “Could you help me solve a mystery?”
“Certainly, if I can.”
“Remember that night at Ganz Hall in Chicago when a double murder took place?”
“Yes, of course. My wife and I played in the quartet. It was a frightening night indeed!”
“What happened? Do you know who the victims were?”
“I will tell you what I know, which isn’t much. Helen and I stayed after the performance, because a young violinist from the quartet that played before ours wished to speak to us at length about Dvořák, his favorite composer. The three of us sat on stage for so long, someone turned the lights off without realizing we were still there. We thought it amusing at first and simply went on with our conversation. Soon, however, someone entered the side door and set up a floor-standing mirror. We guessed that he had not seen us, so we stayed quiet to see what his intentions were. He went out, and moments later, he and another man brought in two coffins and arranged them on tables on the opposite side of the stage.
“Since we could see bodies in the coffins, we became quite nervous and tried to remain perfectly quiet, but one of the men, a tall, pale-looking fellow, saw us. The two men became violently aggressive toward us, so we defended ourselves. Unfortunately, the only weapons we had were our violins, which did not survive the battle. After quite a skirmish, they captured us and locked us in a storage closet. It took some time, but we were able to break out. I sustained several serious cuts, as did the young musician, but my wife was unharmed. To this day, I have no idea who lay in the coffins.”
Kelly piped up from the backseat. “So that’s why you didn’t make it back home on time.”
“I was quite delayed, to be sure. We stayed overnight in the hospital and answered the authorities’ questio
ns the next day.”
Nathan breathed a long “Hmmmm.” Someone or something led him to believe that Dr. Malenkov and his wife were in the coffins as replacements for the Rosetta pieces. But why? To make him look for Dr. Malenkov’s name in the email draft folder? But so much more was going on than just the solution to the Rosetta puzzle. Whoever this invisible sleight-of-hand magician was, he had more up his sleeve than a couple of aces.
Something green caught Nathan’s attention in the rearview mirror. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “I see the pickup. It’s a couple of hundred feet back.”
Nikolai turned and looked. “He seems to be lagging. Is he really following us?”
“Let’s find out.” Nathan pressed the accelerator and extended his hand. “Please give me the mirror and play something on the violin.”
He laid the mirror in Nathan’s palm and pulled the violin from its case. “This is a strange concert venue, but I will do as you say.”
Nathan set the mirror at his side. “Just watch. Explaining it would take too long.”
“What shall I play?”
“Anything.”
Nikolai raised the violin and began a Beethoven sonata. As they zoomed along in the right-hand lane, the pickup kept pace but stayed back, apparently satisfied to keep them in sight. After a few miles, they passed a police car hiding in a gap in the bushes at the side of the highway. As soon as the pickup zipped by, the patrol car flashed its lights, roared onto the pavement, and gave chase.
The pickup took off and rapidly closed the gap between it and Nikolai’s Volvo. Nathan set the mirror on the dashboard. “That’s weird. All I see is the sky, like the mirror’s pointing straight up.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.” Kelly sat upright but kept her head low. “Is it okay to be seen now?”
“Not yet.” Nathan pointed ahead. “There’s the bridge.”
As soon as he eased up on the gas, a heavy jolt shook the car, shoving it close to the shoulder. Nathan wrenched the wheel back to the left. “The truck’s ramming us!”
Kelly peeked over the backseat. “Slow down more! The cop’s closing in!”
“But the bridge is dead ahead! I can’t let him slam me into it!” Nathan pressed the pedal again. “We’ll take our chances in Illinois!”
