Claire Gulliver #03 - Intrigue in Italics

by Gayle Wigglesworth

  The comfy kitchen looked like something designed to be featured in Italian Living, if there was such a magazine. The terra cotta floor and rough stucco walls were offset by the aged, rough wood used for shelves, beams and cupboards. One large shelf stretched over the windows above the huge sink. This held brightly painted Italian pottery, an assortment of pitchers, platters and serving dishes which would have made Claire’s mother drool. The wide window sill held a variety of small planters filled with herbs, while the glass fronted cabinets on the side held a colorful collection of dishes. The kitchen included modern conveniences, yet still had the look of old country. The generous butcher block cooking island separated the kitchen from the eating area, but still allowed people at the table to feel a part of the kitchen activity. The table was a wooden oval surrounded by a variety of worn wooden chairs. Beside the table was a bank of windows. In the darkness Claire could only dimly see they looked out on the courtyard, and imagined in the daylight it would be very pleasant sitting here. At the other end of the common room was a large fireplace, flanked by two comfortable looking overstuffed chairs. This part of the room was comfortably crowded with a couch, a wooden chest serving as a coffee table, a TV, and a cabinet/bookshelves unit crammed with books and magazines. The hall where Will had led Kristen to the bathroom was at the end of the room and near it was the vestibule with the front door.

  “I guess I could wash up a bit too. That way?” She pointed and headed down the hall to find the small closet under the stairs which now contained a toilet and tiny sink. It was a clever use of space in a house built before modern conveniences were available.

  “...but who do you work for? I mean what do you do? Do you just sit around and wait for someone to call you? Who pays for that?”

  James slouched in his chair, wine glass in his hand. “We’re government employees. And no, we don’t sit around and wait for someone to get in trouble. But if they do, we’ve been known to respond.”

  “Anyone? I mean Claire just called. And the next thing we know the Italian Police Force is coming to the rescue with you. Why would you do that for Claire? Or for me? I can’t believe the government thinks I’m important.”

  “Whoa, wait a minute. We thought you were a major witness on a big racketeering case.” He sat up and spoke sharply to Will, “Get the car out, we’ll just take them back.”

  Emily sputtered, unable to contain her laughter, so she spoiled James’ joke. The shock on Kristen’s face was dissolving just as Claire entered the room catching the end of the joke.

  It felt good to laugh. It relieved the tension that still gripped Claire and Kristen. After the laugher faded all talk was suspended so they could give their attention to the meal Emily had assembled. She had put a large platter of pasta on the middle of the table. It looked like rigatoni, covered generously with a fragrant red sauce and grated cheese. She took two large spoons and tossed it in front of them.

  Claire felt faint with hunger when the enticing smell reached her. It was all she could do to mind her manners and wait for an invitation to eat. They were already shoveling the pasta into their mouths when Emily put the large bowl of salad on the table and took her place at the end where she could easily access the kitchen if she needed. It didn’t take her long to fill her plate; she seemed as hungry as the rest of them.

  Finally sated, plates and serving pieces removed, Emily placed a large platter of cheeses and fruit on the table. After refilling the wine pitcher she sat down again looking from Kristen to Claire expectantly. Now they told their story. Emily and Will were an enthralled audience.

  “Oh my gosh! Weren’t you scared to death?” Emily asked with a visible shiver. “I know I would have been. And I know I wouldn’t have thought of kicking his knee out from under him. That was so brave.”

  “Like me. I just stood there, frozen. Thank God I moved fast enough to grab Claire and steady her before she went off the trail. Then the cliff just disintegrated before us.

  “Well, at first I was just glad. You know? It didn’t bother me a bit to see them slide into space, but then we realized we were trapped. That was really depressing. Just when we thought we were saved, we found ourselves stuck.”

  Kristen looked sad. “And now that I’m out of danger I remember that look on their faces as they went over the edge. They were desperate but there was nothing for them to grab. They knew. You could see it on their faces. They were just people after all.”

  She sat up straight, her look now determined. “But I have to remember that they were scary, bad people. I think about those poor American women in Sienna, and then I think they got their just reward.” She shivered. “Can you imagine how long that fall must have seemed?”

  “Probably not long enough,” was James opinion.

  Claire just nodded. Sitting here in the warmth of this kitchen, with their stomachs full and their wine glasses filled, it was hard to remember how frightened they had been.

  Kristen still had questions about their rescue. “So, James, explain once more how you managed to get a helicopter and a whole bunch of Italian policemen to help you rescue us. It sounds more like a movie plot than real life.” She looked at Claire. “Don’t you think, Claire?”

  “Well, Kristen, I guess you just don’t know who you are traveling with.”

  Kristen looked sharply at Claire then with confusion at James. “What do you mean? I’ve known Claire for years. We used to work together at the San Francisco Library. I remember when she inherited a bookstore from her uncle and decided to turn it into a travel book store. So I do know her. Are you saying she works for you?”

  She turned and looked at Claire. “Is that why you attacked him? Are you really a secret agent, trained to kill?” She was seriously confused.

  Claire laughed. “Hardly. I’m just who you think I am. Retired librarian turned bookstore owner. If I was a government agent, let’s hope I would have been more successful at landing that kick.”

  She said sternly, “James, what are you talking about? You’re confusing everyone.”

  James shrugged. “Everyone in the Company has heard the story, Claire. We know you saved the Vantage flight from Guiness. You’re one of our heroes. I guess you could say you’re a spooky heroine.” He chuckled at his joke.

  Claire felt the heat in her cheeks. “But I was just saving myself.”

  Will shook his head. “I don’t buy that. No one else noticed. And even if they noticed most people would have just shrugged off their suspicions rather than make a big fuss and risk looking foolish. You didn’t. And you saved everyone on that airliner.”

  The looks of admiration from Emily, Will and James and disbelief from Kristen made her even more uncomfortable. “Look, I don’t want to appear ungrateful for what you did for me.” She sighed, her breath catching in a little hiccup betraying her distress. “I just don’t want to get into all that right now. It was only a year ago and between that and the incident in Washington, I’ve had more than my share of violence.” Her eyes turned to Kristen as she explained, “That’s how I met Jack, my friend who gave me the number to call.”

  Her gaze went from Will to Emily to James, as she chided, “I thought all this stuff you guys did was secret. How does everyone know about London?”

  Will and James were embarrassed. Emily was sympathetic. “You poor thing. Please forgive us. We’re kind of isolated here and we tend to glom onto any excitement we can. And you know it’s a small group, so the stories do get around and around.”

  “But this situation isn’t about me,” Claire said firmly. “It’s about Kristen. I’m just incidental, along for the ride, so to say. I just happened to recognize her in Florence. I just happened to confront her at a portentous moment, which caused her to be out of that building when it exploded. And that saved her life.

  “She is the target. She is the one needing protection.”

  Emily nodded turning her gaze on Kristen. “Kristen, let me try to explain better. We work for the Company; you probably heard it
called the CIA. We have people all over the world. And no, we don’t leap into action for just anyone, because most people wouldn’t even think to ask for our help. And we do work for the government and we each have assigned responsibilities. While we’re on location, we are on duty 24/7; most of the time we deal with pretty mundane stuff, but we try to be ready for anything.

  “And, because we all know how dangerous this life can be for any of us, we’re all quick to respond to the Crisis Center whenever a need arises. They are there for us. We know they’re going to do whatever is possible if we need help, and sometimes they do the impossible. They make sure we’re safe. We all appreciate that.

  “So you see, the fact that Claire had the number meant she would be protected. Her friend apparently knew her well. He assumed she would need help sometime and made it possible for her to get it.”

  James glanced at his watch. “Oops, just about time to call in.”

  He and Will pushed their chairs back.

  “What are you going to do?” Kristen was concerned. “Who are you calling?” Her anxiety was appropriate considering her belief there was a mole in the Witness Protection group.

  “We’re calling the Crisis Center. We need to make plans. You can come with us if you want. Actually, it would be best to have you there.”

  Kristen was on her feet in a flash following behind the two men. Claire sat where she was, willing to let the others figure out what their next move would be. “Emily, I’m not much of a cook, but I’m a whiz at cleaning up,” Claire offered.

  While they were loading the dirty dishes in the dishwasher Claire told Emily about her mother’s dream to turn her retirement into a second career catering to people who didn’t have the time or skills to cook. “She’s currently attending the annual Italian Culinary Retreat at the Villa Tuscany. A friend came with her and they’re both going to meet me in Venice on Wednesday afternoon.”

  “Oooh, how lucky she is. I’ve heard of that program. It’s very prestigious. It’s meant for serious cooks and chefs who want a refresher. It’s not like all these cooking vacations that have become so popular. Those are for anyone who wants to brag to their friends and eat well on their vacation. But the Retreat is expensive as well as exclusive. Your mother must have a reputation in the field.”

  “Or her ex-boss has connections,” Claire responded. “Well, actually my mother is a great cook, but of course mostly she was cooking for the two of us. I’m sure we couldn’t eat enough to allow her to really develop her skills the way she wanted. I guess that’s why she wants this second career. She probably should have had twelve strapping sons to feed. If she had she’d be tired of cooking by now.”

  Emily nodded. “I hear you. Living out in the country like this we can’t just decide to go out to dinner. So we have to cook every meal and it can be a burden if you’re not in the mood to cook. Fortunately Will is a good cook. So if I don’t feel like cooking, he gets in the kitchen and surprises me with something elegant. Or when neither of us wants to cook we pull something out of the freezer and nuke it.”

  “Aren’t microwaves wonderful? I’m ashamed to say most of my cooking is done in one. If it’s not a frozen Lean Cuisine, it’s popcorn. But it works equally well on both of them.” But, now looking around the homey yet efficient kitchen, she speculated as to whether or not a kitchen like this in her little bungalow in Bayside might not tempt her to use it more often.

  * * *

  “Did you hear from Claire?” Ruth asked as she came through the door.

  “No.” Millie looked anxious. “I don’t know if she went back to Florence or what. I’m so worried. I tried to get her at the hotel, but she wasn’t there.”

  “Millie...,” Ruth said with some force. “You know how capable Claire is. And she’s careful. Just don’t worry. She’ll call when she gets a chance.”

  Millie nodded. It was easier to say don’t worry than it was not to worry. “I thought you were going to play poker with your buddies. Kind of early for you to have lost all your money, isn’t it?”

  “We didn’t play. Not enough people. Sam wasn’t around. Jacques went down to the village with Randy to play some video games. I had a drink with George and Marybeth, but then I decided to have an early night.” She yawned. “I’m not as young as I used to be. I can’t take all these late nights. And I don’t even get an afternoon nap.” She grimaced. “It’s not on the schedule.”

  Millie smiled. She understood completely, although she never expected to hear Ruth admit it. Usually Ruth liked to party to the end and she never wanted to give an inch due to her advancing years. But obviously the previous late nights were catching up with her.

  “Maybe I should try to call Claire again at the hotel in Florence.”

  Ruth shrugged. “I doubt you’ll catch her. Just wait, she’ll call and leave a message for you when she gets time.” She saw Millie’s expression and gave up. “Whatever you do, please do it quietly because I’m going to bed.” She took her pajamas into the bathroom with her to get ready.

  * * *

  “Hey, Aaron, what’s up?” Jack was tired, he didn’t feel like talking to Aaron; he felt like falling into bed for at least twenty-four hours. But Aaron was a good guy and had saved his bacon on more than one occasion. So here he was calling, just as the message requested.

  “We heard from a friend of yours today. Claire Gulliver.”

  Suddenly Jack was wide awake and charged. His heart was beating too fast. He didn’t know why Aaron heard from Claire, but he knew it wasn’t good.

  “Is she all right?” He forced his voice to remain steady so as not to betray the anxiety he now felt.

  “Yes, yes she’s all right. She is now anyway.”

  “Where is she? I thought she was tucked safely away in some small town in California. I’m guessing I’m wrong about that or you wouldn’t be asking me about her.”

  “Well, she is tucked safely away, but certainly not in California.” Aaron paused. “Actually, I’m surprised to hear from you so soon. Your contact said you were involved.”

  “Yeah, well it’s winding down. I have a few days break before finishing up the odds and ends.” Then he went back to the subject which interested him more. “So where is Claire, and what’s she up to now?”

  “Well, she’s in Italy. She seems to have gotten herself into a situation.”

  Jack nodded. One thing he knew about Claire was she had an uncanny way of getting involved in ‘situations’. “But she’s all right?”

  “Oh, yes. She’s fine now. Our people there worked some of their magic. They’ve got her tucked away in the countryside. She called in earlier today.” He proceeded to fill Jack in on the details of Claire’s escape and subsequent rescue.

  Jack couldn’t believe Claire was in Italy. He hadn’t seen or talked to her since September in Washington D.C. Right after they parted, the events of 9/11 caused him to be deployed immediately. Since then he had no time to think about Claire, his daughter or any other personal concerns.

  Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He had sent Claire a couple of postcards when he had a chance to have colleagues mail them from various exotic locations far from where he was actually assigned. But he hadn’t talked to her. And he hadn’t had any of her letters forwarded to him for months. So he certainly hadn’t expected to hear she had turned up in Italy. And especially he didn’t expect to hear she was in trouble.

  “She what?” Jack felt the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stiffen as Aaron described Claire’s attack on the man pursuing her. “She doesn’t know Karate. Hell, she usually faints when she gets scared.”

  “Well, not this time. She said she was so scared she didn’t think; she just acted.”

  Jack nodded his head; that was his Claire. Well, she wasn’t really his Claire, he just had hopes. Unfortunately, his plans for retirement had been put on hold for a while, which had also put any plans he had of developing his relationship with Claire on the back burner. Suddenly he was so frustrated he w
anted to slam his fist into the wall. But he didn’t. He was used to being in control and showing a calm unruffled persona in the most aggravating moments. It had only been seven months since she had survived the incident in D.C. and here she was in trouble again. What was it about that woman?

  “So, Aaron, you’re sure this has no relationship to anything Guiness is doing?” His immediate concern was that the villain of the past hadn’t once more reared his ugly head. He listened while Aaron responded. Then satisfied that Aaron knew who was involved and why he asked, “So what are you guys planning to do about this?”

  He nodded, listening to the plan Aaron outlined; he agreed it was good. But when Aaron described how he planned to use Claire and Kristen to flush the mole and capture the assassins, he cut in, “But not Claire! You don’t need Claire for that, right?”

  Aaron was silent for a moment, thinking. “I guess you’re right. We don’t need her but I’m not sure we can convince her of that. She’s very protective of her friend. She’s very much the mother hen.” Aaron’s voice clearly communicated his skepticism of his ability to separate Claire from Kristen.

  “Well, you said she was supposed to meet her mother in Venice on Wednesday. Believe me; she’ll want to be there so her mother won’t worry. And I understand it doesn’t take much to worry her mother. Claire will go to great lengths to avoid upsetting her.” Jack was confident.

  “Look, Aaron, I really appreciate what you’ve done for Claire, what you’re doing; but please, do me another favor and send Claire on her way. You can convince her she has already done more than enough. Tell her she’ll jeopardize the operation. Promise to let her know how it all comes out. She’ll believe you. I promise.”

  They talked for a while longer. Jack suggested Aaron replace Claire with a police woman to make sure Kristen was protected. Then after they talked a while more Jack promised to check in the next day. After hanging up the phone Jack sat down on the bed in his bleak hotel room and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “Shit!” That was exactly how he felt about it.