“Seven it is,” Anlon said. “Tomorrow is Friday, we can always catch up on sleep over the weekend.”
With that, they rose and wished Jennifer a good night. Pebbles said, “I’ll walk out with you, and then I’ll come back and help clean up AC.”
Pebbles and Jennifer walked down the back porch steps to the driveway by the garage. When they reached Jennifer’s car, Pebbles said, “Thank you again for everything today, especially taking charge after the Navarro thing.”
“No problem, it’s actually my job,” she winked, opening the car door.
Pebbles held the door open and said, “I like you Jennifer. You’re a good person. But I’m a little pissed off that you looked into my background.”
Jennifer nodded. She expected Pebbles to raise the topic sooner or later. She replied, “Look, sorry it makes you angry, but it’s my job. I’m not apologizing for doing my job. But I shouldn’t have said anything in front of Anlon. For that, I apologize. It was a slip of the tongue after a long, eventful day. I didn’t mean to out you.”
Pebbles nodded. She believed Jennifer’s explanation. She said, “Apology accepted, and thank you for being straight up about it.”
“No problem, I like you too. I don’t want to hurt you,” Jennifer answered, squeezing the hand Pebbles used to hold the door open.
“How much do you know?”
“Everything.”
Tears formed in Pebbles eyes. She said, “Don’t believe everything you read. Please don’t tell Anlon. I want to be the one that tells him when the time is right.”
Jennifer’s stomach twisted in sympathetic agony. Given what she’d observed in Pebbles over the past few days, she knew in her heart that Pebbles was not the woman described in the police records and news reports she reviewed. She said, “It won’t be me that tells Anlon. And for what it’s worth, I didn’t believe a word of what I read.”
Pebbles started to cry, cupping her mouth with her hand to stifle the sound as the tears rolled down her face. She couldn’t mouth a thank you, she just nodded and walked into the darkness clutching at her abdomen.
Jennifer started after her and then thought better of it. She returned to her car and left. As she neared the main road, she mumbled under her breath, “Talk to him, he’ll understand.”
XVI
MOUNTING TENSIONS
Strutting through the crowded, palatial lobby of the Waldorf Astoria, Quechua212 did her best to appear calm and collected. Aviator sunglasses perched atop her long raven waves, she strode confidently to the registration desk clad in a short, body-hugging, white spaghetti strap dress and black cross-strap heels.
Behind her, the aging bellman toted her bags and ogled her deep tan, cut physique and almost certain absence of undergarments. When they reached the registration desk, she politely handed the man a $10 tip and indicated she could handle the bags from there. Dodging crisscrossing guests as he trundled away, the bellman turned a last time to take in the exotic young woman with a leering gaze and a soft whistle.
The crisply attired registration attendant, Claude, bowed slightly upon her approach and extended a formal greeting, “Welcome to the Waldorf Astoria. How may I assist you this evening?”
“Hello!” she perkily exclaimed. “I’m checking in.”
“Certainly, miss. May I have your last name, please?”
Quechua212 was now used to invoking her alias, so the fictitious name rolled naturally off her tongue. “Moore, first name is Zoe.”
Claude busily tapped the keyboard behind the counter, adjusted his glasses and said, “Yes. Welcome Miss Moore. I see you will be staying with us for three nights. A one-bedroom suite in the Towers.”
“Yes, that’s right,” she replied. Zoe indulged herself with top-shelf accommodations when she traveled these days, a self-anointed perk of her questionably acquired wealth. She removed the sunglasses and tossed her head casually to adjust her bangs, the motion intended to settle her nerves as much as to depict an air of indifferent ease.
“Excellent. Your room is ready and we did honor your reservation request for a nice view of Manhattan. May I have your ID and credit card please?” Claude inquired.
“Of course,” Zoe answered, dipping her hand into the oversized black leather tote atop her rolling suitcase. After chastising AucuChan1 about his earlier mistake, Zoe was careful to extract the correct ID and credit card from her wallet.
A few minutes later, Zoe disappeared behind the private door leading to the Towers elevator bank and ascended in the lift to the 40th floor.
Settled now in the living area of her suite, Zoe peered out the window overlooking the sparkling skyline of nighttime Manhattan and unstrapped her heels. They plunked on the carpet in succession before she padded to the mini bar and opened a small whisky bottle. Zoe dashed its contents into a tumbler, swished the drink around a few times and took a steadying gulp.
Retracing her steps as the warmth of the whisky coated her throat, she curled in a corner of the sofa and glanced at her phone. She would have to call him in 15 minutes. To Zoe, that meant 15 more minutes to get herself together. It would undoubtedly be an ugly conversation. Klaus Navarro didn’t take kindly to failure, and given the beating he’d endured at the hands of the waify PYT staying with Cully, Zoe was certain she would be on the receiving end of his wrath. But she was determined to not allow him to bully her.
Zoe was also worried about AucuChan1 and seriously considered whether she would have to step in to clean up the mess in which they found themselves. AucuChan1 still had not found the map and was unable to track down Pacal. And he had made mistakes. Too many. Zoe grew increasingly concerned that sooner or later one of those mistakes might very well reach back and ensnare them both.
Reaching into the tote again, Zoe extracted the disposable phone she purchased in Miami before her New York trip. Hooking a Bluetooth earpiece behind her lobe, she sighed deeply and dialed Navarro.
On the third ring, the call was connected and Navarro’s mixed accent chided, “Well, if it isn’t the warrior princess. At least you are punctual, despite your incompetence.”
His voice was muffled and more nasal than usual, the result of a swollen jaw and taped up nose. He barked, “Where is the Waterland Map? Is it in your possession? I hope so for both your sakes!”
Zoe gritted her teeth and absorbed his animosity. Clearing her throat, she replied, “We do not have it, yet.”
“And the coins Dobson promised me?”
“We don’t have those either,” she grudgingly admitted. “I know for certain Dobby found the gold coins. He showed them to us, but after his run in with Devlin, something changed. Suddenly he had a change of heart and was going to hand them over to Devlin instead of us. But, before we could persuade Dobby otherwise, he died too.”
“And the Master Stone?”
Cringing, Zoe lowered her head and massaged her temples, “No, we haven’t found the Stone.”
“The sculptures?”
Zoe’s long, silent response was marked only by Navarro’s labored mouth breathing. She reached for the whisky and swallowed another slug as Navarro sternly stated, “You have 24 hours to deliver all of it to me or our association is over! Do you understand me?”
Pacing to the window, Zoe pushed aside the sheers and longingly peered at all the cars and people below on their way to dinners, shows and other fun in the city. She had worked too hard to create her new life and worried she was on the precipice of seeing that life disappear if she did not succeed.
Steeling her resolve, Zoe reminded herself that she did retain some leverage in the relationship with Navarro. If he bailed she could always find another buyer, so when she answered, she did so with a firm tone. “Yes, I understand.”
Navarro laughed, but the laugh quickly turned into painful huffs as his tender ribs reminded him of Pebbles’ thrashing. When he could speak, he mockingly lectured, “No, I don’t think you do! I paid you and your good-for-nothing associate $100,000 dollars in advance! And what
do I have to show for it? Zero. The deal was clear. The map, sculptures, stone and gold in exchange for $500,000. You were given one month. You told me it would be no problem and now look at the dung heap you’ve created!
“First Devlin, then Dobson! Days apart?!? How stupid was that? Without even squeezing the gold coins or information out of him first! When I agreed to deal with you and your associate directly after Dobson decided to quit, I didn’t expect you would cut out Dobson…literally! Then you draw more attention by breaking into Devlin’s office! You represented yourselves as professionals! Professional morons?”
Anger seethed inside Zoe. Against her better judgment she shot back, “Who’s the moron who forced his way into Devlin’s office and attacked a woman? And was seen? How professional was that? No one would have suspected you being part of our little association, as you put it, but you stuck your own ponytailed mug right in the center crosshairs, genius, because you were too damned impatient!”
Navarro raged. Over the phone, Zoe heard heavy thuds from Navarro pounding on a table and deep wheezes as he fought for composure. “You slut! Don’t ever, I mean ever, speak to me in that manner! 24 hours. That’s all you have left. If you fail me, I will make sure the severing of our business relationship is slow and painful for you and your half-wit associate. Are we clear?”
With incredulous outrage, Zoe spat, “Don’t threaten me, you little bastard! You know what I am capable of and you aren’t that hard to find. We have a deal and I expect you to honor your end. I will personally take over the recovery of the agreed items myself.”
“Your insolence is…” Navarro began to shout before Zoe cut him off with vitriolic force.
“Listen, worm! For six months, even though Dobby was the middleman, we supplied you with every treasure you wanted from Devlin’s collection without anyone the wiser. If you hadn’t stupidly bungled your way into his office to sneak out one of your precious statues on your own, we’d have a lot easier time extracting the statues and the other pieces you want now! It’s your fault, you hear me?!
“And who told you about the Stones in the first place? That’s right, weasel, we did! We got old Dobby all liquored up, pressed his buttons about how Devlin wasn’t sharing the wealth and he went ballistic. Told us where the ‘real money’ could be found in the collection. In fact, we’ve done all the work while you sat on your tail tanning yourself!
“I will get the pieces. You chill out and drop the threats or so help me I’ll come down there with my Stone and cast your ass down your pretty mountain top home. Are we clear?”
Again, a long pause. When Navarro spoke again, his voice was nearly a whisper, an evil, animus-laden whisper, “And in 24 hours, if you don’t get the pieces? What then, princess warrior?”
“Then I will have no choice but to pay a visit to Dr. Cully personally and motivate him to hand everything over by whatever means necessary,” she answered.
“And if you are caught?”
“That won’t happen. There may be bodies piled up when I leave, but mine won’t be one of them.”
“I sincerely hope you are correct. 24 hours,” Navarro’s slithery whisper cautioned.
“Oh, two other minor points,” Zoe rebutted. “Point A — you’re not the only buyer interested. Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t do anything additionally stupid, I should say. Point B — I didn’t kill Dobby.”
Navarro roar-coughed again in laughter, “You have bigger balls than any man I know! And, please, don’t be coy with me. Of course you killed Dobson.”
With that, the connection terminated before Zoe could wedge a last word in. She grasped the Bluetooth earpiece and flung it across the room, her earlier nervousness now replaced by stone-cold malice.
After clearing their dinner dishes, Anlon returned to the study but found the room empty. Perplexed, he stepped out on the back porch in search of Pebbles. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light cast by the moon, he noticed her silhouette bent over in the middle of Devlin’s back meadow. She seemed to be crying. Concerned, Anlon took a few steps down the back stairs but then halted.
If Pebbles wanted his company she would have come back inside, he thought. She went all the way out into the meadow for some privacy. So Anlon turned and tiptoed back up the stairs and went inside. He would check on her a little later, it was unlike Pebbles to get emotional. Perhaps, he thought, a result of her head injury?
Alone in the house, Anlon sat back down in front of the map. He grappled with the meaning of the codes. Though Anabel said the markings on the map represented locations where the Stones might be found, Anlon was puzzled why Devlin didn’t use the Master Stone symbols as markings. Instead, he used simple colored dots (red, green, brown, grey and black).
It was quite possible the colored dots were meant to denote something else entirely. For example, he recalled Pacal telling Pebbles that the Story Stones came in multiple colors. Whatever the meaning, Anlon hoped the answer might be found on the Master Stone or the other Story Stone in Devlin’s safe.
Even though they agreed to view the Stones the following morning, Anlon’s curiosity led him to extract the Master Stone from the study safe and place it on the coffee table next to the open map. Then he walked to the kitchen and opened the freezer.
True to Pebbles’ words, there sat the Port Stone perched atop a pint of ice cream. He snickered. It did look like a tuna can. He was surprised how light it was. It almost felt hollow.
Remembering Pacal’s description of Devlin’s first use of the Port Stone, Anlon carefully approached the table with the Port Stone held at a distance expecting the Master Stone to begin vibrating as it neared. But it remained inert.
This baffled Anlon. Was the Port Stone too cold to use? He placed it on the table a foot away from the Master Stone and still no reaction. He picked up the tuna can-shaped rock and hovered it above the Master Stone. Again, nothing. Then recalling that the Port Stone attached to the back of the Master Stone, Anlon flipped the square, black rock over, and voila, the Master Stone started to shimmy on the table. Turning the Port Stone back over again, the vibrations ceased.
“How interesting!” Anlon exclaimed aloud. If there had been any doubt before, the interplay between the two Stones on the table confirmed magnetism was at the heart of their operation. Well, it was better to say cooperation. One end of the Port Stone cylinder attracted the polarity of the Master Stone.
But unlike in a common magnet, when the other end, or pole, was exposed to the Master Stone, a repulsive action did not occur between the two magnetized objects.
In the distance, Anlon heard the back porch screen door open and shut. He called out, “I’m in the study.”
Pebbles didn’t answer at first, and didn’t enter the study. Instead Anlon heard her start up the steps to the house’s second floor. She called out, “I’m heading to bed. See you in the morning.”
Anlon frowned. An odd reaction from a woman who a few hours earlier had nearly tackled him on the lawn. Something was definitely up. He quickly reflected in his mind, “Did I say something to upset her?”
He called back, “Okay, goodnight. Hope you sleep well.”
She did not answer as she continued up the stairs. Anlon sat for a little while going through the three-way conversation over dinner. There was no point he remembered that seemed to upset Pebbles. In fact, she’d been jovial the whole time. Maybe, in a quiet moment, the shock of Navarro’s attack finally sunk in?
Realizing there was nothing to be gained by imagining what was bouncing around inside Pebbles’ mind, Anlon shifted his attention back to the Stones. He said aloud, “Now where was I? Ah yes, the Sound Stone.”
His scientific curiosity awoken, Anlon went to the safe one more time and pulled out the Sound Stone. He had yet to seriously consider how the stone worked. Running his fingers over the smooth, grooved surface of the oval object, he recalled how effortlessly Pacal had lifted thousands of pounds high in the air by simply vibrating his lips on the back of the stone.
Anlon recollected that common speaker systems utilize magnets to transmit sound waves. He supposed the Sound Stone must also be a kind of magnet. A magnet that accepted sound waves from the user’s humming against the surface and translated, no, amplified the smaller waves into powerful surges.
It was mind boggling to consider how the Stone Benders embedded that kind of power into a rock they shaped for this purpose. The imagination required to conceive the idea was gifted beyond comparison.
To satisfy his inquisitiveness, Anlon tried an experiment to test his theory. He held the Port Stone to the backside of the Sound Stone. No reaction. He turned the Port Stone onto its opposite side. Again, nothing.
“Hmmm,” Anlon mused, “maybe I’m wrong.”
Unwilling to give up on his theory, he rotated the Sound Stone to face the Port Stone. Before the rotation was complete, the Sound Stone shot out of his hand and crashed heavily against the wall.
“Whoa!” Anlon gaped, “now that’s what I call reverse polarity!”
Anlon paced across the room and retrieved the Sound Stone. It wasn’t damaged thankfully. He thought, “The magnetic properties of these stones are way more complex than I realized.”
Closing the door to his office, Thatcher Reynolds quickly maneuvered around the tall, disorderly stacks of papers, artifacts and other materials that sat on the floor, desk and credenza. Life as a university professor at an institution that doesn’t highly value archaeology as a field of study meant meager funding and office space allocations.
He tapped his foot restlessly on the floor as he awaited the call. Thatcher had a lot riding on this deal going through and his Hong Kong buyers were growing impatient. He needed more time!
Cully didn’t cooperate as he hoped and Cully’s legal team was now in full attack mode. It was probably a bad idea to threaten him, Thatcher admitted, and getting his cousin involved was inane.
But he was desperate. His confederate, Pacal, had proved just as inane in his decision to shoot Cully across the yard with Devlin’s Sound Stone! Neither of their attempts to dissuade Cully from continuing Devlin’s research had proved effective. In fact, the opposite was true.
Shadows of the Stone Benders (The Anlon Cully Chronicles Book 1) Page 20