by SY Thompson
“Germany, is that where you learned to pilot?” Sidney asked as she picked up the interview once she got her bearings. “I didn’t know universities taught such subjects.”
“Oh no.” Ronan sat her cup down. “My father was a pilot in the American military and stationed in Germany. He flew everything from helicopters to fighter jets and insisted that I learn as well. He would take me up with him in the small helicopters at first, teaching me how things worked. When I was sixteen he let me take the controls for the first time.”
Ronan’s expression had softened at the mention of her father and Sidney could see that she cherished her memories. “You’re very close then?”
“Alas, no,” Ronan said as tears suddenly shone in her cornflower-colored eyes. “My father died eight years ago. He died during training maneuvers when a landmine exploded. The government had used the field for years and thought all of the explosives detonated. They were wrong.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sidney said, moved by the woman’s loss. “And your mother?”
“Six months after Papa’s death she took to her bed with an illness. The doctors said that she had a blood disease, but I believe that she was missing Papa. She passed away shortly after that.”
Sidney had set her cup down while Ronan told the tragic story and now reached out compassionately to cover the trembling hands with her own. She didn’t know what to say and let the moment stretch out until her guest was ready to break the silence.
“So,” Ronan said as she took a deep breath and pulled away from Sidney’s touch. “Now I am in the United States. I admit that I am not too familiar with your customs, but I can fly a plane.”
Sidney chuckled, relieved that the tense moment had passed. “Well, it certainly sounds as if you’re qualified. When can you start?”
“Right away.”
“Great.” Sidney was happy that there wouldn’t be any delays to hamper her work. “I’m to start shooting a new movie the day after tomorrow and I’d really like to have you settled by then. The movie is about a widowed farmer struggling to keep the business running while taking care of a wheelchair-bound teenaged son. Since a lot of the movie is being shot in rural Kansas I’ll be flying back and forth a great deal.”
“I understand. You’ll have to let me know how you want to arrange the schedule. I’ve taken an apartment in the city, but it’s still almost an hour drive from here.”
“I’ll insist that you take the apartment one floor down. I own the building and the only other people living here are a couple on the first floor. They also work for me. One is my chauffeur, whom you met last night, and the other is his wife who is my housekeeper.
“I’ll expect you to be ready at a moment’s notice,” Sidney continued as she warmed to her subject and didn’t realize how bossy she was beginning to sound. “Also I’ll expect a certain amount of decorum on your part since I am fairly well known. It wouldn’t do for me to employ someone who throws wild parties and stays out all night. I don’t need a scandal.”
“I don’t party,” Ronan assured her with a smile, her eyes sparkling. “And as I already told you, I am new in America. I don’t even really know anyone.”
“Fine, fine,” Sidney said as she stood up. “If you’ll wait for a moment I’ll call Jordy and have him show you into the apartment.”
Both women smiled at the light tone and Sidney honestly tried not to flirt with Ronan again.
“Are you going to need help moving?” Sidney asked. “I can loan you Jordy and the car.”
“Niet,” Ronan declined with a shake of her head. “I have very little luggage. I am sure that I will manage.”
Chapter Six
“THANK YOU SO much for shopping with us today,” the clerk said, handing Ronan her change.
The girl couldn’t have been more than twenty, and Ronan was impressed with the friendliness of the clerk. She came from a world of curfews and oppression and she wasn’t accustomed to this. In the Germany of her time, the whole world of her time, people kept their heads down and voices quiet so they wouldn’t attract the wrong kind of attention. The boisterous cashier met her eyes openly and requested that she “come again” as Ronan pocketed the change.
“Thank you.” Her gratitude was sincere and she wondered if she was supposed to tip the young woman.
In America of the 21st century a gratuity was expected, wasn’t it? On second thought, Ronan remembered, it was only while dining out that she should tip. Even after six months, she wasn’t quite accustomed to how things worked in this century.
Ronan shouldered her bag of groceries and walked out the front of the automated doors to put her purchases into the saddlebags of her motorcycle. The grocery store was very busy at five in the afternoon on a weekday, and she noticed the huge black bike attracted a lot of glances and outright stares from male and female customers alike. She looked the machine over, pleased by the freshly polished shine and the fact that there weren't any signs of rust on the metal pipes.
Although invented in this timeframe, this particular machine was a future model and contained a few upgrades. The engine didn’t run on fossil fuel, but a nuclear reaction chamber housed inside what would be the gas tank. This one also boasted twin laser canons where the exhaust pipes would be, an onboard targeting computer with voice interface, and a bulletproof windshield. Ronan had made the modifications herself.
She didn’t realize that dressed as she was on a beautiful summer day, she was getting as much attention as the BMW. She looked like a blonde supermodel in a black leather jacket with silver zippers, a white button-down shirt tapering at the waist, and hip-hugger black jeans. Ronan picked up her helmet and was about to stuff her long hair into it when she glanced up and straight into the brown eyes of an attractive woman walking toward the grocery store.
“Hi,” the woman said and met her eyes squarely with an open smile. Her manner was so friendly that Ronan wondered if she had met her somewhere before.
“Hello,” she answered and frowned slightly when the woman blushed and looked away. It was only after the stranger passed on her way into the store that Ronan realized she’d been flirting.
She blushed hard and jammed the helmet onto her head to hide her reddened cheeks. She was embarrassed at the attention, but strangely pleased at the same time. In her time that would never have happened and it left her feeling warm and attractive.
To date Sidney had flirted with her almost every time they were together and Ronan couldn’t deny she felt there was some kind of attraction between them. Then again, she wasn’t completely sure it hadn’t just been Sidney being friendly. She could be reading something into the situation that wasn’t there.
She had worked for Sidney as a pilot for several months now and saw a great deal of her. They flew regularly to a small airport in Kansas to continue to shoot Sidney’s new movie, often for weeks at a time. At present, they were enjoying an unexpected hiatus because of a breakdown in some of the specialized film equipment. They weren’t anticipating losing more than three or four days and then they would start flying back and forth again. Ronan took advantage of that downtime to buy some groceries and work on Sidney’s plane.
She rode back to her apartment one floor below Sidney’s, remembering the day after the assassination attempt when she had called to check on her and attempt to cultivate a closer relationship. It hadn’t been difficult to get the position as Sidney’s pilot, but she hadn’t expected Sidney would want to spend much free time with her. She constantly invited Ronan to lunch at the penthouse or out to dinner with business associates when they weren’t on location. Ronan was pleased but suspected residual fear on Sidney’s part as the driving factor. She continued to receive anonymous notes from her stalker and Ronan assumed Sidney wanted her around to protect her. She didn’t mind, except that she couldn’t always be there.
When they weren’t on location in the Midwest, her duties maintaining the plane and the hangar in Maryland took up a great deal of time, and her own pl
ans still had to be set in motion. She also had a great amount of difficulty behaving around Ms. Weaver. Each time they went out together, Ronan flirted shamelessly with her. She’d started touching the small of Sidney’s back. At first, the gesture had been unconscious, but Sidney hadn’t protested.
Winter had finally given way to spring and then to summer. In that time, Ronan had prepared for the eventuality of Sidney’s kidnapping as much as possible. She purchased and stashed provisions in key locations and had acquired a secluded hideaway that only two people knew about. Those two people didn’t even know what they were party to, just that an eccentric woman had purchased an island and wanted the property kept up while she was away. Summer arrived with no further attempts on Sidney’s life, but Ronan resisted the urge to give in to a false sense of security. It would happen.
Ronan pulled the motorcycle into her parking space in the secured garage. She dismounted and went upstairs to put the groceries away. She saw Jordy, the chauffeur, in the hallway near her apartment. As usual, he gave her entire body a once over, showing genuine appreciation. Ronan ignored it since the young man was harmless, and she knew his wife would kill him if she even suspected he looked at her in such a fashion. He never said anything out of line to her and behaved like a perfect gentleman. It was probably an unconscious appraisal, just part of the male animal psyche.
“Hi, Jordy.”
She set her bag down on the floor to pull out her security card. The card fit into a slot in the door and unlocked it, eliminating the need for a key. “What are you doing lurking about?”
“Hi, Ronan.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling. “Just getting ready to take Her Majesty to Sachs. She took today off from rehearsing scripts in the studio and said she needs some new things for summer. I’m sure she has a whole closet full of stuff, but you know those rich people. They won’t wear anything twice.”
His words sounded like a complaint, but Ronan knew he adored his employer and she smiled back at him as she hefted her groceries once again.
“What about you? Anything special going on?”
“No,” she said and shook her head. “I’m just planning for a quiet evening in, a little spaghetti and garlic bread, maybe a glass of wine. Do me a favor though, would you? Tomorrow I have to drive down to Brooklyn Park and do some maintenance on the plane. Keep an eye on Ms. Weaver and make sure she doesn’t take off alone. I’m very concerned about her stalker.”
Brooklyn Park wasn’t that far away, a little less than an hour, and Ronan drove down there every other day when they were in the city. Each time she did, she made the same request.
“No worries. She makes out like the stalker thing doesn’t bother her, that it’s just one of those things a celebrity deals with. I’m not so sure.”
His soft eyes showed the same concern that Ronan felt and she considered briefly taking him into her confidence. Sometimes it was so hard to keep her knowledge of what was destined to happen to herself. Then she decided against it, unsure what she could possibly say to convince him that she was from three hundred years in the future and there on the mission to save Sidney’s life. Instead, she settled for more platitudes.
“I agree, but you know how stubborn she can be. Well, I’ll see you later, Jordy.”
Ronan closed the door and prepared to make her solitary dinner, more worried than ever. It was June now and she couldn’t help but feel time was running out. Had she planned for every possible scenario?
She placed the groceries on the kitchen counter and pulled a knife out of the drawer to slice some vegetables for her meal. Soon sliced peppers and garlic were sautéing in olive oil. Hamburger was browning on the back of the stove and the spicy scents began to fill the apartment. Ronan had a small table set out on the balcony off the living room and planned to have her meal out there, which she did almost every night when she was home. Sometimes she would just sit out there and sip a glass of wine. She enjoyed the sense of freedom it gave her and the sights on the street below were less depressing than the ones she remembered from the future.
She had just sat down with her spaghetti and a glass of wine when she saw the limousine pull out from the underground garage.
Take care of her, Jordy, she thought. She is my world.
THE NONSTOP POUNDING on the apartment door made Ronan jump out of the shower and throw on a terry cloth robe. Rivulets of water streamed down her face and neck so she grabbed a towel and started toward the front door. She felt the robe clinging to her wet body like a second skin.
“I’m coming, just a minute.” What could possibly be so important that someone was about to knock her door off the hinges?
With the soft cotton wrapped turban style around her head, Ronan yanked the door open to a wide-eyed, obviously frightened chauffeur.
“Have you seen Ms. Weaver?” Jordy rushed into the apartment and looked around as if he actually expected to find the wayward woman there. He was shaking and positively frantic.
“No, isn’t she supposed to be rehearsing in studio today?”
Jordy nodded and explained. “They just called looking for her. She was supposed to be there at eight this morning. Velma said she never showed up.”
The overwrought man sank down onto a chair and dragged a hand through his sandy hair. Ronan knew he would never forgive himself if anything happened to Sidney. She had inside information, however, that nothing would happen to her for another few weeks. For that reason, she wasn’t quite as worried as Jordy was. If it weren’t for the still unmasked stalker, she doubted even he would be quite so upset. However, Vel was the producer of the film and would have known of a change in schedule.
Ronan glanced at the clock. “She should have been there two hours ago. Didn’t you drive her?”
“She said she wanted to take the Jaguar today.” Jordy looked miserable.
“Does she often just disappear without consulting anyone? If so, are there any places she usually goes?”
Jordy frowned as he thought about it. “Once in a while she’ll take off. She doesn’t always tell anyone, but I don’t know of any place she goes in particular. It could be anywhere.”
“All right, I’ll get dressed and try to track her down. First I’ll call the studio and see if anyone has any idea where she might have gone.”
Her words were confident and Jordy seemed reassured by them. She thought he relaxed a little under the belief she had everything under control. If only Ronan was so sure.
She showed him to the door quickly, promising she would phone him as soon as she knew anything. As soon as the door closed she flung the towel and bathrobe into a corner and started to dress as fast as her trembling hands would allow. Soon the phone book was out and she had already started to call all of the hospitals in the Manhattan area before she finished putting her shoes on. She felt only marginally better that no one who matched Sidney’s description had turned up in a hospital as she dialed the studio.
It took a few minutes to push through the thickheaded secretary, but finally Vel Prince’s level voice came on the line.
“Prince,” she answered, and managed to sound annoyed through the connection.
Ronan ignored the irritation from the obviously busy woman. “Vel this is Ronan Lee. I’m Sidney Weaver’s pilot.”
“Yes, dear. I know who you are. What can I do for you?”
The tone was much friendlier when the producer recognized the person to whom she was speaking. In fact, she sounded almost casual, a polar opposite of Jordy’s frantic concern.
Ronan frowned. “I received a visit from Sidney’s chauffeur about twenty minutes ago. He said the studio called looking for her when she failed to arrive for rehearsals. He seemed quite concerned.”
Vel actually chuckled into the phone. “I’m sure there’s nothing wrong. Sidney’s the standard for temperamental actresses. She does this kind of thing regularly. She’ll turn up in a few hours and wonder what all the fuss was about. At least she didn’t pull her great escape when we were actually filming
.”
“I see.”
Ronan felt some of the tension leave her chest. Still she wouldn’t be completely reassured until she saw for sure that Sidney was unharmed.
“Well, I’m sorry for bothering you.”
“No problem. Give the chauffeur my apologies for causing a panic.”
Ronan just couldn’t sit around the apartment all day and wait for Sidney to return. It would drive her crazy to do nothing, especially if she was in some unknown trouble. She thought of the assassination attempt the night of the Christmas party. That hadn’t been a part of known history either, but it happened. Unfortunately, no one knew where Sidney took off to when she went on her getaways. All Ronan could do was drive around and look for her. She would try riding up and down the uptown district on the motorcycle first. Maybe Sidney had gone shopping and, with any luck, Ronan would spot the car.
After a few hours, it became apparent that driving at random was an exercise in futility. Sidney was not on the strip, and unless she had traveled to one of the malls located in the suburbs, she wasn’t shopping. Ronan had no choice but to return to the apartment building and wait for her.
SIDNEY PULLED INTO the underground parking structure relaxed and with a smile on her face. She hadn’t felt like going to the studio and decided to take another day off. If they were actually rolling film she wouldn’t have done this, certainly not two days in a row, but sometimes she needed a break. She had behaved for most of the process on this particular film, but she still had a reputation to maintain. Occasionally people expected her to pull a stunt like this and Sidney had to admit it helped her to concentrate better if she took a little mental time out.
