The Future Scrolls

by Fern Michaels

“She saw the Monk; she saw Brother Gian . . . I know that’s what she saw,” Maria cried.

  Dani grasped the girl by the shoulder, shaking her. “Maria, stop this. Listen to me. What did you see? Tell me, what did you see?”

  “Nothing, only my mother staring into a corner. She saw him! I saw, too. For the first time, my mother truly saw him.”

  “Stay here; don’t move from this spot!”

  Before she touched the still body, Dani knew that Valerie was dead. She looked at the beautiful features of the woman and felt only pity.

  Into the distance Dani looked at the small speck that was a plane. It was the two-thirty. Could it really be?

  “Oh, look at your beautiful apartment,” Maria cried, her eyes feverishly bright.

  Dani cast an eye around the small apartment. Everything was blurred and out of focus. She no longer cared about it or anything else for that matter. The happenings of the afternoon had left her shaken and trembling.

  “What time do you think Papa will be here?”

  “Honey, I have no idea. I don’t know if he’ll come here or go to the house in the country. At this point, I don’t know what we should do ourselves. I don’t feel like making the trip back to the country. There’s no reason why we can’t stay here for the night. We could spread the blankets on the floor. What do you think?”

  “It is fine with me. Dani, where did they . . . I mean what happ . . . Why can I not cry? Is there something wrong with me that will not allow me to cry? She was my mo—”

  “Baby, I know how hard this must be for you but it was an accident. Don’t ever for one minute think it was anything but an accident.”

  “Who will tell my father?”

  “I’ll tell him when he comes here. Listen, sweetness I have an idea,” Dani said with forced brightness. “Why don’t you go next door to Martha’s and call for a pizza. Stash did a good job of cleaning up this mess but I want to vacuum before I put the blankets on the floor. This way, we’ll both be busy.”

  Maria obligingly trotted out to do Dani’s bidding.

  Lord, how was she to tell Alex? What would he say? Would he in some way blame her? She looked at her watch. He must have gone to the house in the country. Would he come here looking for them? It was five hours since his plane had landed. If he was coming, he would arrive shortly. Shaking her weary head, she perched on the arm of the broken club chair. It was over. Alex would take Maria and she would be alone again. God! After all this, the one thing she didn’t want was to be all by herself.

  The small apartment vacuumed, the girls sat chewing the stringy pizza. The doorbell rang and Maria cast an apprehensive glance in Dani’s direction.

  “You stay here; I’ll get it,” Dani said, untangling herself from the mound of blankets on the floor.

  “Who is it?”

  “Alex.”

  “It’s your father,” Dani said softly as she slid the chain from the door. Maria nodded glumly.

  Quickly and in a soft tone, Dani explained what had happened. Alex stared at Dani, his eyes cold and furious. “What a waste of human life,” he said bitterly. “There was no need for any of this.”

  Dani motioned him to follow her into the empty living room.

  “Don’t tell me that I am responsible for this also,” he said, casting a narrowed eye around the barren room.

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m going away. The insurance company will take care of it. Alex,” Dani said quietly, “you need to talk to Maria. Right now she needs you. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

  Dani fixed herself a cup of instant coffee and was leaning against the sink sipping it when Alex walked into the kitchen.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. It must have been terrible for you.” He looked so dejected, so defeated, that Dani wanted to reach out and comfort him. Instead, she sipped at the scalding coffee.

  “I’ll survive. The question is, will Maria? She asked me why she couldn’t cry. I didn’t have the answer. Do you have the answer for your daughter, Alex?”

  “No. There was a time when—”

  Dani interrupted. “The scrolls are in a case in the living room.”

  Alex nodded. “I’ll send Maria back to Argentina tomorrow. And you, Dani, what about you?”

  “I guess I’ll leave. I think I’ll take a plane and head for Aruba. I’ll bask in the sun and—”

  “And what?”

  “I don’t know. After my soul is warm, if that’s possible, I’ll decide.”

  Alex’s heart pounded at the vague words. “I know this isn’t the time to speak of my love for you but I must. You sound so . . . far away,” he said hoarsely. “I love you, Dani. I think I loved you the moment I saw you. If I seem cold and arrogant, as you say, it is only my defense against being . . . hurt.” The voice was humble in its entreaty. “I decided on the way back from Rome to ask Valerie for a divorce. I want you for my wife, Dani. I . . . I’ll try to change.”

  Dani felt faint stirrings in her heart. “I’m not from your world, Alex. I don’t think I could belong.”

  “You’re wrong. Don’t you see, querida? You are my world. For now, for tomorrow, for all time.” The warm Latin voice was husky with emotion. “I need you, to be complete,” he said simply. “Will you marry me? Before you answer, I must tell you that I am to return to Rome once more. Cardinal Palmerini wants me to bring the scrolls to him. I will return on the seventeenth of January. We could be married, if you agree, quietly, on the eighteenth. We could return together to the hacienda the following day.”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?” Dani said in awe. “I . . . I . . .”

  Maria peered in the door and laughed. “Make her say yes, Papa, then she cannot become a free spirit.”

  “I thought I told you to stay out of my love life,” Dani said crossly. “I’ll make up my own mind if it’s all right with you.”

  “Very well,” the child said, withdrawing her head from the open doorway, “as long as it is yes in the end.”

  “It would seem that you are outnumbered,” Alex smiled.

  “It would seem so,” Dani said thoughtfully. “But there is one flaw in your plan,” she uttered, sliding into the outstretched arms.

  “Flaw! That is impossible. I allowed for any and all possibilities,” he said imperiously, as he crushed her slim body to his. “Is it agreed?” he asked, laying his cheek against her dark head.

  “I can’t,” Dani said, rubbing her face against the rough material of his jacket. “I have a date on the eighteenth that I wouldn’t break for anything on this earth, my wedding included, but if you make it for the nineteenth, you have a date.”

  Alex raised her face to meet his and brought his lips to hers. “Forever and ever,” he murmured.

  Maria smiled and clapped her hands as she withdrew from the doorway. Now Dani wouldn’t be a free spirit.

  For a sneak preview

  of Fern Michaels’s next novel

  WEEKEND WARRIORS

  coming from Zebra Books

  in July 2004,

  just turn the page . . .

  Prologue

  Washington, D.C.

  1998

  The traffic was horrendous on Massachusetts Avenue, but then it was always horrendous at this time of day. Rush hour. God, how she hated those words. Especially today. She slapped the palm of her hand on the horn and muttered under her breath, “C’mon, you jerk, move!”

  “Take it easy, Nik,” Barbara Rutledge said, her eyes on the slow-moving traffic. “One more block and we’re there. Mom won’t mind if we’re a few minutes late. She hates it that she turned sixty today, so the longer she has to wait for the celebration, the better she’ll feel. I don’t think she looks sixty, do you, Nik?”

  “Are you kidding? She looks better than we do and we’re only thirty-six.” She leaned on the horn again, even though it was an exercise in futility. “Just tell me one thing: why did your mother pick the Jockey Club for dinner?”

  “The first crab cakes of the season, that
’s why. President Reagan made this restaurant famous and all her political friends come here. If you want my opinion, thirty bucks for two crab cakes is obscene. I can eat lunch all week on thirty bucks if I’m careful. Mom pitched a fit last week when I took her to Taco Bell for lunch. We both ate for five bucks. She was a good sport about it but she can’t understand why I don’t tap into the trust fund. I keep telling her I want to make it on my own. Some days she understands; some days she doesn’t. I know she’s proud of me—you, too, Nik. She tells everyone about her two crime-fighting girls who are lawyers.”

  “I love her as much as you do, Barb. I can’t imagine growing up without a mother. I would have if she hadn’t stepped in and taken over when my parents died. Okay, we’re here and we’re only thirty minutes late. This isn’t the best parking spot in the world but it will have to do, and we’re under a streetlight. In this city it doesn’t get any better than that.”

  “We really should hit the powder room before we head for the table. Mom does like spit and polish, not to mention perfume and lipstick,” Barbara said, trying to smooth the wrinkles out of her suit. Nik did the same thing.

  “I spent the day in court and so did you. We’re supposed to look wrinkled, messy and harried. Myra will understand. Oops, almost forgot my present,” Nik said, reaching into the backseat for a small silver-wrapped package. She handed Barbara a long cylinder tied with a bright red ribbon. “Your brain must be as tired as mine. You almost forgot yours, too. What about this pile of books, Barb?”

  “They’re for Mom. I picked them up today at lunchtime. You know how she loves reading about murder and mayhem. I’ll give them to her when we leave.”

  Myra Rutledge was waiting, a beautiful woman whose smile and open arms welcomed them. “My girls are here. We’re ready to be seated now, Franklin,” Myra said.

  “Certainly, madam. Your usual table or would you prefer the smoking section with a window view?”

  “The window, Franklin,” Barbara said. “I think tonight in honor of my mother’s birthday, you two can have a cigarette. Just one cigarette after dinner for both of you. I will of course abstain. Yes, yes, yes, I know we all quit, but this is Mom’s birthday and I say why not.”

  Myra smiled as she reached for her daughter’s hand. “Why not indeed.”

  “This is so wonderful,” Myra said, sitting down and leaning across the table. “My two favorite girls. I couldn’t ask for a better finale to my birthday.”

  “Finale, Mom! Does that mean when you go home, you and Charles won’t celebrate?”

  ‘’Well . . . I . . . perhaps a glass of sherry. I did ask Charles to come but he said this was a mother-daughter dinner and he would feel out of place. No comments, girls.”

  “Mom, when are you going to marry the guy? You’ve been together for twenty years. Nik and I know all about the birds and the bees so stop blushing,” Barbara teased.

  “Yes, and it was Charles who told you two about the birds and the bees,” Myra smiled.

  Charles Martin was Myra’s companion/houseman. When his cover was blown as an MI-6 agent his government had relocated him to the United States, where he’d signed on as head of security for Myra’s Fortune 500 candy business. His sole goal in life was to take care of Myra, a job he took seriously and did well. Both girls were grateful for his attention to Myra, lessening her loneliness when they went off on their own.

  Myra’s eyes sparkled. “Now, tell me everything. Your latest cases, who you’re dating at the moment, how our softball team is doing. Don’t leave anything out. Will I be planning a wedding anytime soon?”

  It was what Nikki loved about Myra the most, her genuine interest in their lives. She’d never invaded their privacy, always content to stand on the sidelines and offer motherly support and aid when needed, but never interfered or gave advice unless asked. Nikki knew Myra enjoyed the times the three of them spent together, loved the twice-monthly dinners in town and the occasional lunches with her daughter or perhaps a short stroll along the Tidal Basin.

  Yes, Myra had a life, a busy life, a life of her own beyond her girls. She sat on various charitable boards, worked tirelessly for both political parties, did numerous good deeds every day, was active in the Historical Society and still managed to have time for Charles, Barbara and herself.

  “You staying in town tonight, Mom?”

  A rosy hue marched across Myra’s face. “No, Barbara, I’m going home. No, I didn’t drive myself. I took a car service so don’t fret about the trip to McLean. Charles is waiting for me. I told you, we’ll have a glass of sherry together.”

  “No birthday cake!” Nik said.

  The rosy hue crept down to Myra’s neck. “We had the cake at lunchtime. Charles needed a blowtorch to light all the candles. All sixty of them. It was very . . . festive.”

  “How does it feel to be sixty, Mom?” Barbara asked, reaching for her mother’s hand across the table. “You told me you were dreading the day.”

  “It’s just a number, just a day. I don’t feel any different than I did yesterday. People always talk about ‘the moments’ in their lives. The special times they never forget. I guess this day is one of those moments. The day I married your father was a special moment. The day you were born was an extra-special moment; the day Nikki came to us was another special moment and then of course when the candy company went Five Hundred. Don’t laugh at me now when I tell you the other special moment was when Charles said he would take care of me for the rest of my life. All wonderful moments. I hope I have years and years of special moments. If you would get married and give me a grandchild I would run up the flag, Barbara. I don’t want to be so old I dodder when you give birth.”

  Nikki poked Barbara’s arm, a huge smile on her face. “Go on, tell her. Make your mother happy on her sixtieth birthday.”

  “I’m pregnant, Mom. You can start planning the wedding, but you better make it quick or I’ll be showing before you know it.”

  Myra looked first at Nikki to see if they were teasing her or not. Nikki’s head bobbed up and down. “I’m going to be the maid of honor and the godmother! She’s not teasing, Myra.”

  “Oh, honey. Are you happy? Of course you are. All I have to do is look at you. Oh, there is so much to do. You want the reception at home in the garden, right?”

  “Absolutely, Mom. I want to be married in the living room. I want to slide down the bannister in my wedding gown. I’m going to do that, Mom. Nik will be right behind me. If I can’t do that, the wedding is off.”

  “Anything you want, honey. Anything. You have made me the happiest woman in the whole world. Promise that you will allow Charles and me to baby-sit.”

  “She promised me first,” Nikki grinned.

  “This is definitely ‘a moment.’ Do either of you have a camera?”

  “Mom, a camera is not something I carry around in my purse. However, all is not lost. Nik has one in her car. I’ll scoot over there and get it.”

  Nikki fished in her pocket and tossed her the keys.

  “I’m going to be a mother. Me! Do you believe it? You’ll be Auntie Nik,” Barbara said, bending over to tweak Nikki’s cheek. I’ll ask Franklin to take our picture when I get back. See ya,” she said, flashing them both an ear-to-ear grin.

  “I hope you had a good day today, Myra. Birthdays are always special,” Nikki said, her gaze on the window opposite her chair. “Knowing you’re going to be a grandmother has to be the most wonderful thing in the world. I’m pretty excited myself.” She could see Barbara running across the street, her jacket flapping in the spring breeze. “Do you remember the time Barbara and I made you a birthday cake out of cornflakes, crackers and pancake syrup?”

  “I’ll never forget it. I don’t think the cook ever forgot it either. I did eat it, though.”

  “Nikki laughed. Yes, you did.” She was glad now she had parked under the streetlight. She could see several couples walking down the street, saw Barbara open the back door of the car, saw her reach for the came
ra, saw her sling it over her shoulder, saw her lock the door. She turned her attention to Myra, who was also staring out the window. Nikki’s gaze swiveled back to the window to see Barbara look both ways for oncoming traffic, ready to sprint across the street at the first break. The three couples were almost upon her when she stepped off the curb.

  Nikki was aware of the dark car that came out of nowhere, the sound of horns blowing and the sudden screech of brakes. Myra was moving off her seat almost in slow motion, her face a mask of disbelief as they both ran out of the restaurant. The scream, when it came, was so tortured, so animal-like, Nikki stopped in her tracks to reach for Myra’s arm.

  The awkward position of her friend’s body was a picture that would stay with Nikki forever. She bent down, afraid to touch her friend, the friend she called “sister.” “Did anyone call an ambulance?” she shouted. She heard a loud, jittery response, “Yes.”

  “No! No! No!” Myra screamed over and over as she dropped to the ground to cradle her daughter’s body in her arms. From somewhere off in the distance a siren could be heard. Nikki’s trembling fingers fumbled for a pulse. Her whole body started to shake when she couldn’t find even a faint beat. Maybe she wasn’t doing it right. She pressed harder with her third and fourth fingers the way she’d seen nurses do. A wave of dizziness rivered through her just as the ambulance crew hit the ground running. Tears burned her eyes as she watched the paramedics check Barbara’s vital signs.

  Time lost all meaning as the medical crew did what they were trained to do. A young woman with long curly hair raised her head to look straight at Nikki. Her eyes were sad when she shook her head.

  It couldn’t be. She wanted to shout, to scream, to stamp her feet. Instead she knuckled her eyes and stifled her sobs.

  “She’ll be all right, won’t she, Nikki? Broken bones heal. She was just knocked unconscious. Tell me she’ll be all right. Please, tell me that. Please, Nikki.”

  The lump in Nikki’s throat was so large she thought she would choke. She tried not to look at the still body, tried not to see them straighten out Barbara’s arms and legs. When they lifted her onto the stretcher, she closed her eyes. She thought she would lose it when the young woman with the long curly hair pulled a sheet up over her best friend’s face. Not Barbara. Not her best friend in the whole world. Not the girl she’d played with in a sandbox, gone to kindergarten with. Not the girl she’d gone through high school, college and law school with. She was going to be her maid of honor, baby-sit her baby. How could she be dead? “I saw her look both ways before she stepped off the curb. She had a clear path to cross the street,” she mumbled.