by Kim Baldwin
Vaso snatched up a pen and paper from her kitchen counter. “I am listening.”
“The first is, the leak has been plugged.”
“The leak has been plugged,” Vaso repeated as she wrote down the phrase.
“Correct. Second, Theo sends his regards and asks that you call this number.” Dombrowski then recited his own cell phone number, twice, and had Vaso read it back to him.
“That’s my number,” Dombrowski told her. “Special Agent George Dombrowski. Please tell her I have an urgent message for the witness about Claudia. Got all that?”
“Yes,” Vaso answered. “Anything else?”
“That’s all. I appreciate very much your taking all this down.”
“Of course I can make no promises she will ever get it.”
“I understand. Thank you for your time. I would ask that you please call me at that number if you think or hear of anything that may help us find her.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Dombrowski.”
Vaso sank down into a kitchen chair and stared down at her notes. If Alexi were in London, she was no doubt staying at a hotel, and there were three hotels Vaso knew she liked. The problem was, she also knew her sister sometimes traveled anonymously. How would she find her if she had checked in under another name?
*
Vittorio Cinzano had results within hours of returning home. His boys had already tracked Blayne Keller and her companion to the Toronto airport, through the Subaru license plate and a well-placed bribe within the Ontario Provincial Police. But the trail had turned cold there.
So he’d poured more money and men into the endeavor, and made some threats, and they’d found a British Air gate attendant who was happy to take their money and volunteer what he knew. He told them about the American government’s interest in two women who’d taken a flight to London.
“Have we found out who this woman is with her?” Vittorio asked the dour-faced captain who faced him across his desk. “She’s what, FBI? Marshal? What?”
“We don’t know for sure. Fletcher never gave us her name if he knew it, and looks like the passports they used were bogus. No records on either of the names.”
“What’s happening in London?” Vittorio rapped his knuckle on the desk. Once. Twice.
“We got calls going, checking hotels. Guys at the airport. Nothing yet, but it doesn’t look good. We just don’t have the contacts there, and security’s real tight.”
Vittorio slammed his fist down on the desk. “Then we’re going to have to talk to the other guy,” he decided. “He’s a sure bet. He’ll know where she is. Get on it.”
His captain visibly blanched at the suggestion but said nothing.
Vittorio poured himself another glass of Glenlivet and considered his options as he sipped. He had lots of friends in Europe. Time to call in a few favors.
*
The tension between Alexi and Blayne was so thick the next morning that neither sought eye contact or initiated any conversation beyond a polite good morning.
For Blayne, all the fun and congenial companionship of their first day in London had been spoiled by the evening that had followed, and her bruised ego had erased the desire for more light-hearted sightseeing. So she lingered over coffee on their balcony, silent and stoic, looking out across the expanse of Hyde Park and wondering how she could have been so damned blind and stupid.
She felt wholly inadequate, and sad to the core. And furious at herself that she had so quickly made more of their relationship in her mind than there ever really was. She had started to fall for Alexi, and fall hard. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You kept telling yourself it was all about getting laid, and all the while you were letting her under your skin in a very big way. What a fool.
She knew one thing. Continuing on like this until the trial would be agony. I can’t keep living like this. She may not want me, but I still want her. Even after last night. I still want her so damn bad.
She knew she’d said some hurtful things when she’d walked in on Alexi, and in the bright light of morning she had begun to regret her angry comments. It wasn’t like her at all. I have no ties on her. None. And she really had every right to do what she did. The fact that Alexi had waited after she should have been asleep…and had brought the woman to the suite, so she could still protect Blayne… Well, it had actually been a pretty discreet and considerate way to do what she did. She’s risked her life repeatedly for me. I had no right to accuse her of not taking her responsibilities seriously.
Inside, in the living room, Alexi stared miserably into a cup of cold coffee, bemoaning the loss of what had become welcome and engaging company. She wasn’t close to many people, but she had come to respect and enjoy Blayne as an individual and friend. And she was reluctant to let go of that. Not to mention her attraction to Blayne, which burned like a fire within her. What the hell do I do with these feelings?
She knew one thing she could not do—stay another moment in this room with the woman she had hurt, the two of them barely speaking. She needed to clear her head and come up with a sensible plan for how she was going to manage this assignment. Perhaps she actually couldn’t manage it. Perhaps she needed to replace herself. She knew a few trustworthy people in private security. Perhaps she could hire some muscle and run the assignment at a distance.
She allowed that thought to settle. It was a good idea. She could have a couple of bodyguards taking Blayne wherever she wanted to go in London or even around Europe. Keeping her moving was a good plan. Alexi could monitor them, staying within reach. If she could find the right people today, she could check out of the hotel and into another one not too far away. She could even take a day or two out of London and visit her sister. York was only two hours away by train and it was time she caught up with Vaso. Relieved to have a plan, she stepped out onto the balcony and cleared her throat to alert Blayne to her presence. “I need to run a quick errand and I would appreciate it if you would accompany me so that I can keep an eye on you. It will not take long, and you can remain in the taxi.”
“Fine,” Blayne responded. “You want to leave right now?”
“As soon as convenient, yes.”
Blayne got to her feet but avoided looking at Alexi. She seemed beaten down, like a dark cloud was hovering just above her head. Alexi regretted the loss of that spark that had seemed an integral part of Blayne’s personality.
“You’re calling the shots,” Blayne said dully. “Lead on.”
Alexi gave the taxi driver an address, and Blayne stared out the window as they rode, making none of the excited observations that had peppered their sojourns the day before.
When they parked in front of a florist, Blayne took the first interest in their errand, watching Alexi intently as she exited the cab and went to stand in front of the shop next door, a paper-goods establishment that advertised personalized stationery in the front window.
Alexi observed several people passing by before she stopped one, a young college-age man dressed in a rugby shirt and jeans and laden with a backpack full of books. She said a few words to him and he nodded. She spoke to him some more, and then handed him something—money, it looked like. The man smiled and went into the florist shop while Alexi waited where she was until he came back outside and gave her an ‘okay’ sign.
She returned to the taxi and told the driver to return them to their hotel, and silence fell between the women again until they got back to their room.
“Well that was in incredibly poor taste, to drag me along on that little errand,” Blayne glowered as soon as they were alone. “Send her flowers to say you were sorry you got interrupted?”
“What?” It took Alexi a moment to get a handle on Blayne’s anger. “Oh. No. I was sending a message to my sister. I may visit her while we are in England.”
“Oh.” Blayne’s fury dissipated. Stop being such an ass. She stood where she was a moment, chewing her lower lip. “Alexi, can we sit, please?”
“Of course.”
Blayne chose o
ne end of the couch, Alexi the matching chair four feet away.
“I…I’m sorry about last night,” Blayne said. “I shouldn’t have entered your room without knocking. I shouldn’t have treated your friend so rudely. And I most definitely should not have accused you of ever neglecting your responsibilities in any way. I owe my life to you.”
“Apology accepted,” Alexi said. “Blayne, I regret that you had to see what you did. And for whatever it is worth, I never intended to hurt you.”
Blayne shrugged. “I’m a big girl. You made it very clear you were not interested in me, and I pushed you and pushed you.”
“I think that neither and both of us is to blame. Perhaps I made allowances I should not have. Perhaps I was not clear enough.” Alexi sat back in the chair and crossed her legs.
“It’s clear enough now.” Blayne let out a lengthy sigh. “I have to admit I feel rather foolish to have pursued you so.”
“Please, there is nothing to feel foolish about. You were acting on your feelings, whatever those may be. It has been a terribly trying period for you. Perhaps it was your way of dealing with it all. A distraction. That would be natural.”
Blayne looked directly at Alexi then. “The way that I feel about you has nothing to do with my situation. I know you’ve insinuated that before—that I have some crush on you or something because you’re protecting me.” She took a deep breath and tried to stop her hands from shaking. “But that’s not what it is. I’m sorry you don’t return my feelings, Alexi. But they are real feelings. And they are more than about just sex.” She got up then and began pacing, afraid she had said too much. “Look, it’s my problem and I’m dealing with it.”
Almost without thinking, Alexi went to her and put her hands on her shoulders to stop her from pacing. She hated seeing Blayne so miserable, but once she was touching her, and looking into her eyes, all she could think about was how much she wanted to kiss her. She fought the impulse, and made sure that none of her turmoil could be seen on her face. “How can I make this situation easier for you?”
Blayne gave her a rueful smile. “Touching me like that isn’t helping.”
“I’m sorry,” Alexi dropped her hands and stepped back.
“Telling me that you forgive me for the hurtful things I said will make me feel better.”
“I do forgive you,” Alexi said without hesitation. “I forgave you before you left the room last night. I just want you to understand that your well-being and your happiness is important to me. I miss your smile.”
“Thank you. And I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine. Just need a little time to…” She looked down at her feet. To come to terms with the fact that I can’t have you. How can I smile about that? “I just need some time.”
“Shall I leave you alone?” It would give her the opportunity to make some calls, even meet any prospect who happened to be in London.
No. Never. “I’m not very good company today. I think I would rather just stay in, if you don’t mind.” Blayne looked out of the large glass doors that led to the balcony. “You can do as you like. See your friend. Whatever. I’ll be safe here, I’m sure.” She said this with no malice or anger whatsoever. Only calm resignation.
“I am not going anywhere, Blayne.”
“Your choice.” Blayne opened the doors and stepped out onto the balcony, ending the conversation.
*
The violets were delivered at four p.m., and came from the florist just down the street from Vaso’s cottage on the outskirts of York. It was a close-knit neighborhood, so she had a passing acquaintance with the young deliveryman. She had bested him last month in a drinking contest at the local pub, and he had been begging for a rematch.
“Got a sweetheart, Vaso?” He inquired good-naturedly as he handed her the plant. “Plenty!”
“Shy one, you,” he responded, and that got a laugh. “Going to give me another go soon?”
“Things to do now,” she dismissed him and closed the door.
There was no card with the flowers. She didn’t need one. Violets had been their signal since Alexi had joined WITSEC. Vaso almost laughed out loud. The timing could not be more perfect, but they had always been oddly connected in that regard. She had been thinking a great deal about Alexi ever since that phone call, and she’d half-expected her sister to sense this. What are you up to now?
She went into her room and threw some things into an overnight bag. She would take the morning train to London, she decided. Run a few errands and perhaps spend a few hours with one of the women she knew there before she met Alexi at the jazz club.
*
George Dombrowski arrived at Gatwick Airport at eight a.m. and immediately checked his cell phone for messages. None. He made it through customs and retrieved his bag, and found the train that went to London’s Kings Cross Station, where he could catch the GNER northbound train to York.
He had never been to Europe before, but now was no time to act the tourist and he had no inclination to. He had grown fond of Blayne Keller, kind of like a daughter, and he wanted to do what he could to keep her safe. He saw virtually nothing of the British countryside beyond the impression that everything very green and the houses were old and small. He was too occupied planning for all the likely contingencies of his visit.
*
During another room-service breakfast that Blayne barely touched, Alexi decided it was time to take drastic action to try to break Blayne’s funk. She just couldn’t tolerate another day watching the sadness drag her down and crush her spirit. From the circles under Blayne’s eyes and her haunted expression it was obvious she hadn’t slept well, and she seemed motivated to do nothing but retreat into silence.
It pained Alexi to see the sadness that had descended on one of the most vivacious and vibrant women she had ever the pleasure to know. And it grieved her deeply to know that she was the cause of it. Throughout the previous day she had wanted to hold Blayne. Comfort her. Kiss away her worries and her fears. Tell her what a desirable woman she was, and how hard it was to resist her. Anything to put the smile back on her face.
But Blayne had remained on the balcony, determined on her solitude, until it grew too cold for her to stay outside. Then, she had retreated to her room, letting it be known she wanted to be alone.
“We should get some fresh air,” Alexi suggested as Blayne rose to shower and dress after picking at a slice of toast. “It will distract you from your troubles.”
Blayne forced a half-smile. “Not if you are with me, it won’t.” She continued on to her bedroom but paused at the door. “But it’s fine, Alexi. I’ll go. Whatever you like.”
Blayne waited until she was alone in the shower, immersed in the pounding spray, to let loose the pain of loss and jealousy that was crippling her with a good cry.
Being with Alexi now was torture.
Chapter Twenty-One
The Serendipity club was packed with people, and there was a level of ambient noise beneath the smooth jazz being played by a combo at the front of the room. As they walked past tables, Blayne caught snatches of quiet conversation, laughter, the clink of wine glasses or clatter of cutlery.
Alexi had requested a quiet booth off to one side, where she could get a good view of the front entrance. They were still getting settled when a svelte redhead about Alexi’s age approached their table, arms outstretched. She was fashionably overdressed in a clingy designer cocktail dress in aubergine.
“Alexi! You should have called to say you were coming!”
Alexi stood and embraced the woman, kissing her once on each cheek. “An impulse, Esther. Or I would have.” She turned to Blayne, but kept one arm loosely draped around the stranger’s waist. “May I introduce Fiona Murphy, an American business associate. Fiona, this is Esther Wells, our host. She owns Serendipity. ”
Blayne nodded politely and wished again that she hadn’t agreed to leave their suite for dinner. “Miss Wells.” She fought back a ripple of jealousy.
“Esther, pl
ease.” The redhead returned her attention to Alexi. “Will you grace us tonight?” She tilted her head toward the four-piece ensemble currently entertaining her patrons and smiled. “I’m sure they’d love it. And they’re nearly worthy of you.”
“We will see. Perhaps.”
“Wonderful. I will come back and convince you once you’ve eaten.” Esther released Alexi and bid them both bon appetite, then departed to mingle with her other guests.
“What did she mean?” Blayne asked as Alexi regained her seat and a waiter arrived with drinks and appetizers, followed by another who took their food order.
“Esther is kind enough to indulge me when I am in the mood to play,” Alexi explained. “You asked me once what my hobbies were. I suppose that jazz qualifies.”
“You play? What instrument?”
“Alto saxophone.”
For the first time in many hours, Blayne’s demeanor perked up. “Are you any good?”
Alexi shrugged. “I suppose that is a matter of opinion.”
“Well, I must admit you’ve made me curious, now. I wouldn’t mind hearing you play.”
“If you like.” Alexi really had not intended to take the stage, but if it might bring a smile to Blayne’s face that was reason enough. Losing herself in jazz was also one of the best ways she knew for expressing feelings that she needed to get a handle on, so perhaps it was a good prescription for her tonight as well.
As the evening progressed, she was happy to see that Blayne seemed to be enjoying herself, and was at least sampling some of the dishes she had ordered for them both. So when Esther came back around as they were having their coffee, she acquiesced and agreed to join the combo for a number.
The serious young man on sax readily gave up his instrument, and as she cleaned the mouthpiece and prepared to play she briefed the pianist, bass player, and drummer about the type of arrangement she had in mind.
