Great. “Sure, I guess.” He wouldn’t be able to avoid him forever. Might as well get it over with while Mia was occupied.
“Have you tried the cider yet? The pub’s over here.” Brandt pointed opposite the direction Mia had gone.
“Why not?” Reid gestured for Brandt to lead.
“This is where I’m staying,” Brandt said as they entered the tall, narrow building. “It’s Marseille’s place. The pub’s on this floor, she lives on the top story, and there’s guest rooms on the floors in between.” He held up two fingers to the girl behind the bar.
The place was empty. “Mind if we sit back here?” Reid asked Brandt, indicating a table far from the window. He didn’t want to chance Mia seeing them together.
Brandt nodded and they sat.
“Where is everyone?” Reid asked.
“Left for the orchards at sun-up,” Brandt said. “The growing operation sure takes a lot of labor. And they say this is the slow time.”
The girl from behind the bar brought over two tall glasses of amber liquid.
“Are we supposed to pay?” Reid asked. He didn’t have anything to barter, unless the bar girl needed medical care.
The girl smiled. “Brandt’s tab is already taken care of. Have as much as you want.”
“Thanks,” Brandt said. He watched her walk back to the bar, then turned to Reid. “I’ve been wanting to apologize for upsetting Mia before. I assumed she knew about Justine.” He drank down a third of the cider, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“It wasn’t your fault. I should have realized. I should have told her myself.” Reid took a sip of cider, relieved this was what Brandt wanted to discuss.
“What do you think of it here?” Brandt asked. “San Francisco or Sausalito or wherever we are.” He took another long pull from his glass.
“It seems nice enough, from what I’ve seen.”
“Have you decided what you’ll do next? Will you go back to Colorado?”
“When Mia’s stronger.”
“She said she’d go with you?”
“I won’t go without her.”
“But she didn’t exactly say she’d go, did she.”
Reid pushed his glass aside. “What’s this about, Brandt?”
“Have you given up on finding seeds?”
“Not by choice. I don’t know where to look.”
“Well, we know they don’t have them here. Except for apple seeds. So I thought you might want to come with me when I leave.”
“Wait.” Reid came forward on his chair. There was something odd about the expression on Brandt’s face. “Do you know where Justine’s people are?” That would change everything.
Brandt shook his head. “No, but I’m going to look for them. There’s evil in the world. Pascal and others like him. A long time ago someone wise said, ‘all that’s necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to stand by and do nothing.’ Well, I’m not going to stand by. I’m going to find Justine’s people and warn them, tell them that Justine died trying to get back to them. Besides, what else have I got to do? I heard Sacramento’s inhabited. I figure I’ll start there, and you’re welcome to come.”
Reid let out the breath he’d been holding and slumped in his chair. “Like I said, Mia’s not ready yet. But thanks. I wish you luck.”
“You’re sure about this? About Mia?”
Reid nodded. “When I’m with her, nothing else matters.”
Brandt finished his drink and stood. “That’s all I needed to know. I wish you luck, too.” He extended his hand. “It’s been good knowing you.”
Reid watched Brandt go, hoping he’d find peace even if he never found Justine’s people. Halfway to the door, Brandt turned and came back.
“Forget something?” Reid asked.
“More like I changed my mind.”
“About going?”
“About Mia. There’s something you need to know.”
One Hundred Seventeen
Lost Angeles
Pascal was back on his game and looking forward to a little banter with the good doctor, Benjamin Lawrence. Maybe Ben’s time in the Tank was tempering his moralistic proclivities and he’d be a bit more practical-minded.
“How precious,” Pascal said at the door to the doctor’s cell. “Do you enjoy playing with your little boy through the bars, Ben?”
Ben’s face was no longer a stone. His eyes smoldered and tension worked bulges in his jaw. “Chancellor.”
“What do you want?” Pascal asked.
“You came to me. What do you want?”
“I’m the man who can give you everything. Or take everything away,” Pascal said with a pointed glance at the doctor’s family. “Tell me what you want, Doctor Lawrence, and I’ll tell you how to get it.”
“I want my family out of here.”
“Is that all? No lofty dreams of being chief of the hospital? A private suite at the Grand? Extra food rations? A mansion, perhaps?”
“I’d settle for things going back to the way they were.”
“The doctor at the spa tragically died recently. Would you like his job?”
“You asked me what I wanted. I want my old life back.”
“Very well. Help me get what I want and it’s yours.”
“What do I have to do?”
“Lie to a patient.”
Ben’s gaze lingered on his son, and then his wife, before coming back to Pascal. “Go on.”
When Pascal was confident that he and Ben had an understanding, he and a guard escorted Ben to the hospital to see Justine. The two of them had been alone in her room for more than ten minutes now, and Pascal was beginning to run out of patience.
Ben had better not disappoint.
Finally, Ben stepped out and pulled the door closed behind him.
“We’ll be in my quarters,” Pascal told Advani.
Advani took her place by Justine’s door, and Pascal marched ahead of Ben down the hall. He was anxious to hear about the conversation with Justine, but more anxious to keep it private.
As the door to his quarters closed behind them, he turned to Ben. “What did she want?”
“Shall we sit down?” Ben gestured to the chairs by the window.
Pascal wanted to slap the smirk off Ben’s face. “No. You’re not my guest. Tell me.”
“As you expected, she asked if she was still pregnant. I told her I had already reviewed her chart, then I gave her a cursory exam and told her she was definitely still pregnant.”
“She believed you?”
“By all indications. What about you? Do you want to know if she’s still pregnant?”
“I couldn’t care less. Tell me what else she said.”
“You were correct that she wants to travel. As you instructed, I told her it was safe as long as she stretches her legs regularly and sleeps in a bed each night.”
“I assume she asked you to come with us?”
“No, you were wrong about that.” Ben looked like he enjoyed that. “She said Advani would be traveling with her, and wanted to know if she was a decent doctor. I assured her she was. Then she asked about your son.”
Pascal’s heart stopped for a second. “What about him?”
“She remembered you asked me to examine him. She wanted to know if he was okay.”
“You didn’t tell her—”
“That Linus was dead before she got here? No, I said he was stable and in no danger. She mentioned that Advani diagnosed him with malnutrition. I told her I concurred.”
Pascal exhaled silently. “Why did she want to know?”
“She said she doesn’t trust you, but your love for your son seems genuine. She wants to believe your motivation is to give your son a better life, even if you don’t actually care about the rest of the people in Lost Angeles.”
“Interesting.” Pascal’s estimation of Justine rose. He’d need to remember not to underestimate her intelligence. “Did she request drugs or supplies?”
&nbs
p; “She asked if we had Lorazepam. She wanted to know if it would still be potent after fifty years on the shelf, and what the dosage would be to induce amnesia. But she didn’t ask me to provide any. Does she plan to take it herself?”
“That’s none of your concern. Did she tell you where we’re going?” Not that it mattered. He’d know soon enough.
“Only that she was going to see the baby’s father.”
Everything appeared to be coming together nicely. Ben had better not be hiding anything. “Did she say anything else? You’ve done well so far, Ben. Don’t screw it up by leaving out any detail, no matter how inconsequential it may seem.”
“There was nothing more.”
Pascal studied the doctor’s face for any indication of deception, but only found resignation and regret. “We’re through here. Go home, and don’t mention this to anyone, not even your wife.”
“My family’s at home?”
“They will be as soon as I authorize it. Go home and wait for them. But don’t get too comfortable. If you’ve lied, your family won’t be safe, even in my absence.”
One Hundred Eighteen
Sausalito
Nikolai stood on the dock looking out at the water. His children were safe and accounted for, the rain had stopped, and he was taking Josh fishing. What could be better?
“Are you whistling?” Creighton asked, coming up behind him. “When was the last time you did that?”
“It’s been awhile.”
“So you’re happy.”
“Not about everything. But right now, in this moment, yes, I’m happy.” Nikolai rocked on his heels. “Today is a good day.”
“But you’re still pissed as hell at me.”
“That sums it up.”
“I’m pissed as hell at you, too,” Creighton said. “What are we going to do about it?”
“What are the options?”
“We could ignore each other.”
“Too late.”
“Yeah, I see that now.” Creighton scratched his head, jostling his unruly locks. “We could stay mad and not talk about it. Or we could talk about it. Or you could punch me again. I’d probably punch you back this time, though.”
“Is that it?”
Creighton shrugged. “We could get drunk and talk a whole lot about it, not resolve anything—or resolve everything—then not remember any of it in the morning.”
“Seems like a waste of time and cider.”
“Yeah.”
They stood in silence a moment.
“Or . . .” Nikolai said.
“Or what?”
“We could take Josh fishing.”
“I hate fishing.”
“I’m saying it’s an option.”
“Eh, it’s an option. Not my favorite, though.”
“Are you going to hit me?” Nikolai asked. “If so, could you do it now? Because I can’t be late to pick up Josh.”
“I was thinking about it. That or apologizing.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I was thinking I could apologize for not paying attention when Will needed me, and not telling you when your kids were in trouble, and in general being a selfish dick and a rotten friend.”
“You forgot the part about not telling me Tatiana was sleeping with Kennedy.”
“Right. I was thinking I’d apologize for all that, including the part about Kennedy, and maybe we’d grab a couple of ciders and take Josh fishing.”
“If I were hearing this from my oldest friend Simon Creighton, I’d accept the apology and render one of my own. However, I have no idea who you are. You’re obviously not Simon Creighton because the Simon Creighton I know and love would never, ever willingly go fishing.”
Out on the boat, Nikolai and Creighton joked and bantered like nothing had ever come between them, completely neglecting to police their language. It took promises of sailing, camping, and lots more fishing before Josh agreed not to tell his mother. He probably knew Nikolai would have done those things with him anyway, but it was good for him to practice his negotiating skills. Creighton called it blackmail, but that was in the eye of the beholder.
They sent Josh to Cook with the string of fish, and ambled over to Marseille’s pub. Marseille herself was behind the bar.
“It’s nice to see you boys together,” she said. “What can I get you? Humble pie? Crow? Or are you too busy eating your words?”
“Nothing for me. I’m full,” Creighton said.
“A couple of ciders?” Nikolai asked.
“You got it, sailor.” She delivered them, along with one for herself. “To a full cup, keeping your nose to the wind, and women of easy behavior.”
“Aye, to good fortune, good sense, and good women.” Nikolai raised his glass.
“And good friends,” Creighton said. “Even when they’re selfish dicks.”
“To selfish dicks,” Marseille said.
“I’ll drink to that.” Nikolai downed half his glass and slammed it on the bar. “Speaking of drinking, is there a party tonight?”
“If you want one, you’ll have to host it,” Marseille said. “I’m on call—two girls in labor and only one midwife. I’m sure I’ll be needed one place or the other.”
“Tomorrow then? I have a big announcement to make, and I want everyone to be there.”
“Sounds interesting,” Creighton said. “You getting ready to settle down? Going to introduce your bride-to-be?”
“You’ll have to wait like everyone else. Or try to pry it out of me while we’re fishing.”
“No more fishing,” Creighton said. “I’ve got to draw the line. Out of self-respect, you understand?”
“Let’s plan on a party tomorrow night,” Marseille said. “I’ll have at least one of those babies birthed by then. I can always call on the new medic if the midwife needs help, right?”
“He’s a good kid,” Nikolai said. “Very competent. I’m sure he’d be glad to help.”
“Then it’s settled. Spread the word—there’s a big shindig at The Landing tomorrow.” Marseille raised her glass.
“Works for me,” Nikolai said, clinking his glass against hers.
“You know me. Always up for a party,” Creighton said.
One Hundred Nineteen
Hotel Sausalito
Mia bounded into the room. “I found the perfect house. Are you sleeping? Get up! I want to show you the house.” She pulled on Reid’s arm.
He sat up but didn’t get off the bed. He’d been staring at the ceiling for hours, going over and over what Brandt had told him. He’d tried to convince himself Brandt was lying, that Brandt blamed Mia for Justine’s death and was trying to destroy any chance Mia had for happiness. But it hadn’t seemed like that. It had seemed like Brandt didn’t want to tell him, that it had pained him greatly to tell him.
“Come here a minute.” He scooted to make room for Mia. “There’s something I need to ask you.”
She sat beside him. “What’s wrong?”
“I talked to Brandt.”
She leapt to her feet. “Damn you! I told you not to.”
“I tried to avoid him, but he insisted. He’s leaving soon and he felt he had to tell me what happened with my grandfather.”
“I can’t believe you went behind my back.” Mia stormed to the door, turned around, and stormed back. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes narrowed. “You promised me. You promised.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.” He didn’t break promises, and part of him wished he hadn’t broken this one. “Mia, Brandt told me something about you. I don’t want to believe it but . . . I need to ask, I need to know if it’s true.”
“Of course it’s not true. He’s trying to hurt me. Whatever he told you, I can guarantee it was a lie.”
“I hope so. But I have to be sure. He said . . . ” Reid swallowed, not wanting to say it, not wanting to allow for the slightest possibility it could be true. But he couldn’t let it go. He had to ask. “He said that when you went to find out if Tinker ha
d been captured, you never intended to learn the truth. That you planned to wait awhile, then come back and say he was in the Tank.”
“He was in the Tank.”
“Brandt said you didn’t want to risk your life for the truth when I’d believe anything you said.” It stung that the part about him was true. He would have believed Mia, whatever she’d told him. “He said that you wanted out of Lost Angeles, and the fastest way was to tell me Tinker was in the Tank. Whether he was or not.”
“I did risk my life. Tinker was in the Tank. You were there, you know it’s true.”
“But were you planning to lie?” So far she hadn’t denied it.
“How can you even ask that?” She stormed to the door and wheeled around again. “I might be able to forgive you for breaking your promise, but I don’t think I can ever forgive you for believing Brandt over me. I almost died for you.”
“Stop it, Mia. Just answer the—”
There was a rapid knock at the door. “Reid, it’s Marseille. There’s an emergency.”
Mia opened the door, edged past Marseille, and ran down the hall.
“What is it?” Reid asked, slipping on his shoes.
“A young woman, her first pregnancy. She’s in labor, but something’s wrong. It’s beyond my capabilities, and the midwife’s away on another call.”
He pushed all thoughts of Mia from his mind. “I’ll grab my bag.”
One Hundred Twenty
Sausalito, aboard the Belle Jewel
Mia held her hands out in the rain. “Let’s go for a walk.” She turned to Nikolai and eased closer. “No, I have a better idea—make love to me in the rain.”
“You don’t have to try so hard.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
He gentled his voice to soften the message. “You can stop playing me.”
“Who’s playing?” She slid her arms around him and pressed her breasts against his chest. “I want you, and you can have me right here on the deck of your boat.”
“Mia.” He took her wrists and extracted himself. “I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work on me. I know the difference.”
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