The First Casualty

32

Jason had dozed off after making love. He awoke with a start. Had it been the sound of airplanes from the airport a mile or so away? Probably not. The uninterrupted drone of arriving and departing aircraft had become unnoticed white noise. More likely the departure of direct warmth of the sun as afternoon shadows engulfed the deck along with an increasing sea breeze. Or it could have been Maria leaving the chaise longue. The space she had occupied was still warm to the touch.

Her expedition to the volcanic eruption in Indonesia had been interrupted by a need for additional scientific instruments. Rather than awaiting their arrival in what she described as conditions not quite up to primitive, she had elected to surprise him with a visit to Sark, only to learn he wasn’t there.

From inside, he could hear the sound of the open shower.

Now what? He could still catch his plane, but what was he going to tell Maria? Try as he might, he could think of only one rational reason for immediate departure: the truth. He stretched, got up, and went inside in time to see Maria wind an enormous orange beach towel with the hotel’s logo around her body.

He reached past her to test the running shower. “You still haven’t told me how you knew I was here.”

She was winding a smaller towel, turban-like, around her wet hair. She grinned impishly. “Suppose I decide I don’t want to?”

Jason pursed his lips, the expression of man making a serious choice. “This isn’t some game.” He stepped into the shower. “If you found me, some people I might not be quite as happy to see might find me, too.”

She clearly hadn’t thought of this possibility and gave it consideration as he lathered up. Although Jason had foresworn the violence and death of his past, Maria knew there were still enemies out there, people who had vowed to see Jason dead. She also knew that these enemies were the reason for frequent changes in residences. She could accept that. She could not and would not accept the reality that mayhem, murder, and assassination were sometimes necessary.

She slipped out of the bathroom to return to sit on the chaise longue. He followed, leaving wet tracks on the tile floor.

“Really very simple,” she said. “The volcanic expedition is waiting for additional equipment, and I decided to spend the time with you rather than just sitting around with a bunch of boring scientists. You gave Mrs. Prince an itinerary and told her to ask for a man called Simmons in case there was some emergency with the house or the menagerie, the cat or dog. I remembered that horrid affair in Sicily. You went by the name of Simmons then, too.”

And people thought elephants never forgot.

Complete professional craft would have required Jason to cut himself off from his normal world entirely, not leave possible clues as to his destinations. But he couldn’t ignore the responsibility of the house, Pangloss, or even the truculent Robespierre. Not to mention a way to learn if Maria was in trouble and without her ever-present iPhone.

“But you had no way to know at what hotel I was,” Jason protested, unwilling to admit he had taken more of a risk than he had thought.

She reached an arm behind his neck, pulling his head down close enough to kiss his nose. “You arrived via Windward Air at three twenty-four p.m., local time yesterday.” She leaned over, exposing impressive cleavage. “It was not so difficult to convince the nice Frenchman at the customs office that I wanted to surprise my husband, Mr. Simmons. He let me go through yesterday’s arrival manifests. I knew you were here somewhere.”

“That wouldn’t have given you the name of the hotel,” Jason argued, “When I arrived, I didn’t know where I was staying.”

She got up, removed the towel from her head, and gave a shake, sending dark tresses flying. “But this morning, you rented a car. You have to put where you are staying on the rental agreement.”

Nailed.

“And,” she continued, “you didn’t explain that bandage on your leg.” She wrinkled her nose. “From the looks of it, you need to change it.”

Jason glanced down. The morning’s encounter with salt water and sand had soiled the gauze. “Er, yeah. I’ll run by the pharmacy in Saint-Jean and get a clean bandage.”

Maria was still looking at it. “A Band-Aid won’t do the trick. You are going to need a roll of gauze and adhesive tape. Just how did you hurt yourself?”

“You wouldn’t believe.”

“Try me.”

“OK. I was on this train, see? I got into a knife fight with a woman. She sliced my leg before I managed to throw her off the train.”

Maria gave him a look very much like she might have shown a puppy difficult to housebreak. “I only asked because I care. You can spare me the sarcasm; I won’t ask again.”

And that was fine with Jason.