Bernard rolled off her.
She closed her eyes, waiting for the verbal onslaught of how she led him on and how she was the one who followed him upstairs.
“What is wrong?” he asked.
“I guess, I guess, I’m just not ready.”
He didn’t say anything and when Marisa finally peeked over at him, he shook his head. He rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on her. Understanding registered on his face.
“You drugged me?” He scrambled across the bed and stumbled into the bathroom. He returned with a complimentary blow dryer and held it up like a weapon. “I should have known.”
Marisa rolled off the bed. She had no idea what he was talking about.
“When I first received the warning, I should have known.” His words started to slur. “I have let my guard down. But that was what you were waiting for. Why else would a beautiful woman want to enter my bedroom?”
Marisa gasped. Beautiful woman? Was he really seeing her? It had to be the drugs.
He slipped into French and with each accusation thrust the blow dryer in her direction. He continued his rant, his words slowing, his movements becoming more awkward until he fell onto the bed.
She stared at the man lying facedown on the covers. What had he said about a warning? He should have known? Was he a target that Will and his family were investigating?
If so, she had to find out. She jumped on the bed and rolled the man over. “Wake up, Bernard!” She slapped his face. “Wake up!”
His one eye opened. He slurred, “Don’t let them kill me.”
She placed her hands on both sides of his face. “Tell me. What did you do?”
Before he could mumble out an answer, his eyes closed and his mouth dropped open. He was out. Marisa jumped off the bed and paced the room. The dots connected. He received a warning. They must have found him guilty so they brought her in on their act of judgment to see if she’d intervene and save him.
The more she glanced over at the man on the bed and her role in his current state, the angrier she got. She’d vehemently told Will she would play no part in their assassination and she would not stand for it.
She didn’t want to cross Will and his family but she couldn’t leave this man here to die.
She had to save him.
Nine
Soon after, Marisa strolled through the lobby of the historic hotel. A couple in the corner of the lounge didn’t look up from their smooching. Several older and distinguished ladies snubbed their nose at her, probably for not wearing Prada. They whispered amongst themselves about her mousy brown hair as they patted perfectly dyed curls.
An older man lounged at the bar and didn’t give her a second look. Marisa’s gaze traveled from his fine suit down to his shiny black shoes. Was he connected to Will? She studied his chiseled jaw, his profile. He reminded her of an older version of Will. His father perhaps?
Her fears might be correct. They were almost done with their “research” and the man upstairs was in serious trouble. Marisa strode, not too fast and not too slow, to the front desk. Using her credit card, she paid for a room. Then with the key card in hand, she slid into the nearby elevator. If anyone in the lounge had taken a closer look, they would’ve noticed her trembling arms and her stumbling French.
Back up in the room, Marisa shut the door and leaned against it, breathing heavily. She was quite certain the man would be up after his drink.
“Bernard?”
He stirred.
Hopefully he could walk.
Somehow she managed to get him to his feet and walk him to her room down the hall. He fell onto the bed and groaned. Marisa pulled the covers over him. “Sleep it off. Sorry, Bernard.” And she meant it. “I have no idea what you’ve done but it might be best if you disappear for a bit.”
“Ms. DeWilflower?” he mumbled.
Marisa hesitated at the door. “Yes?”
“Why?”
It was the only word he could manage but Marisa knew what he was asking. Why did she drug him just to save him? What was her role in this? Why did Will continue to use her in these missions instead of just doing away with her?
Marisa didn’t have any answers.
***
The smell of french toast was simply heaven and the sunshine streaming through the windows glorious. Marisa hummed and set the breakfast table with powdered sugar and freshly sliced oranges. She’d been home for only a day and hadn’t stepped out of her fluffy pink bathrobe. Well, maybe a few times.
“Mornin’ beautiful.” Stephen smiled. His hair was mussed. His socks inside out. And his belly hung over the waistband of his man jammies.
Marisa rushed to him and wrapped her arms around him.
He kissed the top of her head. “You should go away on scrapbooking weekends more often.”
Savvy entered, her long hair in a ponytail. “Yeah, Mom. What was up with that?”
“Good morning, Savvy.” Marisa pulled away from her husband to serve up breakfast. “Did you have fun with your friends this weekend?”
“Yeah, sure.” Savvy grabbed a piece of toast from the platter and took a bite.
Marisa’s phone rang. Her stomach flip-flopped as she picked it up off the top of the microwave. “Hello?”
“Why hello. Look who just can’t help but be the hero. It runs through your veins, Ms. DeWilflower.”
“Why, Susanna, I agree! It was a terrific weekend!” Marisa slammed the platter of toast onto the table and flashed a weak smile to her family. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered with her hand over the phone the moved into the living room.
“Oh, don’t worry I won’t keep you long,” Will said. “I’m just passing on some info. The apartment in Paris is yours. The papers will arrive soon. Hide them somewhere safe. It will be your home base of future European operations.”
Marisa interrupted, her voice a bit higher than usual. “I’d love to get together and chat. I have some questions about the weekend.”
“You don’t need to know anything more.” Will spoke fast.
“Mom! It’s getting cold. Come on!”
“You have yet another fan on the look out for the mysterious Ms. DeWilflower.”
“Listen,” Marisa spoke low and forcefully, “we need to talk. I need answers. And we need to set up some parameters of what I will and will not do.”
Will turned on her. “Make no mistake, Marisa. This isn’t optional.”
Marisa sank into an armchair. The small upright piano stood against the wall. As a child, Savvy would practice for hours. She could hear her daughter plunking out Three Blind Mice over and over again. Her eyes rested on the coffee table where they battled out their word skills with Boggle and Scrabble.
“Fine. I’ll be ready.”
“I’ll be in touch.” Will hung up.
Marisa headed back into the kitchen, and her family. Her husband and daughter who meant everything to her. And she’d do anything to protect them.
Anything.
Ten
For the first time in months, Marisa felt almost relaxed. The window was down, and spring was in the air. The wind rushed through the car and blew her hair around in a mad dance. Savvy sat in the passenger seat, tapping her fingers against the dashboard in tune with the beat of some song on the radio.
Marisa turned her eyes back on the road. Maybe, just maybe, Will wouldn’t call again. She hadn’t heard a peep from him in months. Even though, on returning from Paris, she’d gone a bit nuts with more self-defense classes, secret scrapbooking sessions, and evenings hunched over her computer typing out the backstory for Beatrice DeWilflower. Next time, she’d be prepared.
After the extremely disconcerting escapades in Paris, Marisa arrived home most exhausted. But more importantly, she had a deeper appreciation for her family. She might not live the lies she told her family about the glamorous life of being a scrapbooker, but every moment, every memory with them, she tucked away into her heart.
They pulled into a diner and foun
d a seat on the patio. Fifties music blared from an outside speaker. Once their drinks and sandwiches were ordered, Marisa leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes to appreciate the warmth of the sun on her face.
“Hey, mom?” Savvy asked.
“What, honey.”
“Can we talk about my birthday?”
Birthday? “Definitely.” Marisa opened her eyes and calculated the months. How could she forget? Savvy’s birthday was coming up. And just not any birthday. Her sweet sixteen.
Marisa sipped her iced-tea. “What were you thinking about?”
“I was thinking I could do something cool with my friends and then something with you and Dad afterwards.”
Marisa studied her daughter and wondered what she’d done to be so blessed. “That sounds terrific. What about a square dance? I bet the Browns would lend us their hay barn in the off season.”
“Uh, Mom.” Savvy gave her mom the look that every teenage daughter at some point gives her parents at some outlandish and outdated suggestion. “Seriously?”
“Fine. Fine. What are your ideas?”
Savvy started talking a mile a minute, babbling out places and names and ideas. A smile lit her face and she became more animated the more she talked.
Marisa’s phone buzzed from inside her purse. It had to be her karate instructor gently reminding her about class. That had to be it. Yet, the thought of answering her phone caused sudden sweat to tickle her armpits.
“Mom. Your phone?”
“Oh, right.” But Marisa kept her eyes on Savvy. “Continue on with your ideas.”
The phone buzzed again.
“Answer your phone. I didn’t spend time teaching you how to use it for you to ignore callers. Go ahead.”
Marisa fumbled in her purse and found the phone under a Tasty Cakes wrapper. She ignored the guilt. After Paris she’d been really good about exercise and diet but with each passing week, the feeling of safety grew, as did her lack of self-control. “Hello?”
Will’s deep voice resonated against her ear. “Ms. DeWilflower.”
“Susanna!” Marisa held a finger up to Savvy. “It’s been a while. How are you?” Any tiny bit of safety seeped out, leaving her cold and scared.
“The plane tickets are purchased under Beatrice DeWilflower. You leave the middle of next week. For Greece.”
Marisa coughed up some of her tea then stepped away from the table out of hearing range. “So soon? Well, I mean, don’t you think that’s a bit rushed?”
“It’s a full week. How much more time do you need?”
Marisa didn’t care for the tone of his voice. “I’m sorry but next weekend is my daughter’s birthday.”
“Might I remind you that these missions are about protecting your daughter and husband?” Then Will hung up.
Two seconds later, Marisa heard the loud screech of metal ripping and then the screams.
She whipped around in time to see the large blinking diner sign crash through the canopy and land right on their table. People screamed and rushed away, tripping over each other and the tipped chairs in their rush.
Savvy! Where was Savvy?
Marisa dove into the scene of danger. “Savvy!” She didn’t realize she was screaming and frantically flipping over the plastic tables until someone grabbed her arms.
She fought against them. “My daughter!”
“Mom! It’s me.”
Marisa turned, sobbing, and pulled Savvy into her arms, patting her hair and back. She was safe. “How’d you get out?”
Savvy flashed a weak smile. Her face was pale. “I was in the bathroom.”
“Well, thank God for small bladders.” Marisa tried to laugh it off.
The management came out and pulled everyone to the side. They offered free dinners and apologized profusely. Several angry customers threatened to make calls and shut them down. Marisa just grabbed Savvy’s hand and they slipped away. Safe, but shaken.
Silence fell in the car. Savvy fiddled with the radio. Marisa stared at the road, her fingers tightly wrapped around the steering wheel. Hot prickles spread across her body as she questioned the timing of the falling sign and Will’s call.
Her phone buzzed.
She picked it up right away. “Hello.”
“Don’t ever think I make empty threats. Your tickets for Greece are waiting.” Then he hung up.
Marisa continued to yap into the phone as if she were talking with Susanna. Through the conversation, she tried to make it sound like her career in scrapbooking consulting and selling supplies depended on this weekend. Savvy’s face dropped a bit as she listened.
“Okay, okay, Susanna. I’ll be there.” The words came out flat but Marisa had no choice.
Savvy stared at her mom in shock, the hurt in her eyes quite clear.
“But I’ll have to leave a bit early to get home in time for an important family event. Okay, bye now. See you next week.” Marisa shut her phone and shoved it back into her purse.
“You can’t miss my birthday party. You’ve been so busy this past year, locked in your office working on who knows what. This is important.”
“Savvy.” Marisa reached across and grabbed her daughter’s hand. “I’m sorry I’ve been busy with work. Starting this business and learning the ropes of scrapbooking hasn’t been easy. I wouldn’t miss your birthday for anything.”
***
Somehow the week flew by as Marisa prepared for Savvy’s birthday while laying the lies of her big scrapbooking weekend and reinforcing what a wonderful opportunity it was for her career. After all, with Savvy growing up and being so independent she’d need a hobby that paid. After hugs and kisses and promises of being back in time for the birthday party, Marisa was off.
To Greece.
The plane ride to Athens was long and a bit bumpy, leaving her slightly on the nauseous side. Or it could’ve been the fact that as she read Will’s letter of instructions she grew paranoid that the man three rows behind her was secretly taking pictures of her as he walked by to use the bathroom. Her husband loved spy gadgets and tiny cameras so she knew just about anything could be a camera: sunglasses, the end of a book, the top of a cane, anything.
By the time they arrived in Athens, the stranger went off in a different direction.
The taxi ride was bearable after Marisa convinced the driver to take her out of Athens to the Mediterranean Sea. To the shore. He didn’t seem to want to leave her at dusk by herself but when she paid him, he went on his way too.
Where was Will? Why were they meeting here?
The stone wall beneath her feet kept the sea at bay. Music from local bars echoed in the evening air along with the laughter of men starting on a night of booze. She clutched her thin coat closer to her body. The drive through Athens and the seaside villages left her feeling nostalgic for an earlier time period. An old, no, ancient feeling permeated everything. Like crumbling stone temples should be on every street corner. But the nagging worry about the unknown details of the mission stole the romance of being near an ancient city.
Water lapped against the wall and boats bumped into the docks. No sign of Will yet. Marisa tried not to be too annoyed because she wanted to make it back early to Savvy’s party.
“Where’ve you been?” Will had walked up behind her.
Eleven
Marisa reined in her surprise then her annoyance. “I’ve been waiting for you, just soaking in the smells and sights of a coastal village.”
“Let’s go.”
He strode along the dock, not bothering to help her down from the wall. He led her onto the biggest sailboat at the end of the dock. Large white sails that looked silver in the moonlight sagged by the beams. Polished wood gleamed across the hull. Will stood by the wheel.
“Welcome aboard,” he said, without a trace of a smile.
Marisa let out a little huff to show how rude he was being by not offering his hand. Instead, she slipped off her shoes and let her bare feet grip the slippery side as she climbed down.
Unsure of where to go, she sat on a padded bench and tried to squelch the twisting feeling in her gut. The mystery of the mission hung heavy on her mind. The not knowing would kill her.
With a glance back at her and a little smirk, Will turned the key and the engine started with a burst and then calmed to a gentle purr as they pulled out of the harbor.
The moonlight played on the water, kissing the choppy waves and creating a silvery trail across the sea. The slight breeze brushed her face and swept her hair back, fooling Marisa into feeling relaxed. She enjoyed the night and didn’t speak until they were farther out on the water.
“Is this your boat?” she asked.
“It’s available for me to use.” He reached for binoculars stored under a seat and then scanned the shoreline of an island. He put them away, shut off the motor, and dropped anchor.
Feeling a bit lost and unsure of why she was even needed, Marisa charged forward with a question. She could imagine her daughter, leaning against the side, scoffing at her wimpiness. “What’s the big mission this time?”
Will didn’t say anything at first. With controlled motions, he lifted a bench and pulled out a flask of vodka. The clear liquid splashed into a shot glass, and he downed it. He wiped his lips. “I’m in charge tonight. We don’t want any surprises.”
A slow burn spread across Marisa’s cheeks. In other words, they didn’t want her screwing up again. “Why am I here?”
“We, that is you and I, are going to infiltrate a monastery on that far island, do a little poking around, then return to the boat. Simple.”
“Oh, gee, that’s it?” Her arms trembled and a flush pricked her skin. “Regardless of what you think, I don’t really have that kind of experience.”
He didn’t even look her way but kept his eyes on the far island. “Our experience together so far says otherwise.”
Marisa decided to be brave. She sucked in a deep breath and asked the question that had been troubling her for days. “We’ve been working together now for a while. On that first trip to England, you said it was to observe me, to see if I was truly a threat.” She steadied her voice and continued before she lost courage. “Your family takes their time investigating targets. What’s the verdict on me? When is this going to stop? How can I convince you that regardless of my mother and ancestors I’m just a mom and that’s all I want to be?”
Vanishing Point (Circle of Spies Novella) Page 6