Wiley Johns

by Ciana Stone

  Besides, it was going to work out. It had to. She gave herself a forced smile. “Attitude. It’s all attitude.”

  Yeah, right. The smile vanished with the negative thought that intruded. And a big fat fairy godmother is going to make all your troubles disappear. If only it were that easy.

  “Mrs. James, please. If you’ll give me one moment I’m sure I can—”

  “No!” The middle-aged woman in the floral-patterned dress paused in her march across the foyer and whirled to face the distinguished gray-haired man. “There’s nothing—nothing you can say that’ll convince me to work in this—this insane asylum!”

  “I’ll double the salary offer.”

  Mildred James hiked her purse up on her arm more securely. “Mr. Weston, if you’ll pardon my bluntness, you don’t have enough money to get me to keep that-that person. Now, good day to you, sir.”

  Richard Weston watched the woman flounce out of the front door. He blew out his breath in frustration and closed his eyes.

  “Richard, I demand you rectify this deplorable situation immediately.”

  Richard turned to the woman who stood at the far end of the foyer, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, one foot forward, the designer toe of her shoe tapping sharply on the polished marble floor.

  Helen Weston was an attractive woman, easily mistaken for someone much younger. With soft blond hair cut in a fashionable bob that framed her surgically enhanced, line-free face, a slim and shapely figure, and penetrating blue eyes, she was still a head-turner. What marred her otherwise perfect looks was her cold and aloof manner, along with her total lack of patience with anyone or anything that interfered with what she wanted.

  Richard bit back the sharp reply that rose to his lips. This wasn’t the time to get into an argument. “I’m doing everything I can. We have another interview scheduled this afternoon. There’s every possibility it will work out.”

  “And what if it doesn’t? Mrs. James was the fifth applicant to turn down the position. If you expect me to cancel months of planning simply because you cannot locate adequate personnel, then you are severely mistaken. I’ve spent months scheduling for this holiday and I refuse to have it destroyed.”

  Richard crossed the room to Helen and reached out to put his hands on her arms. She backed away, her body becoming more rigid and mannequin-like in its pose. Richard’s hands dropped limply to his sides.

  “I fail to understand why I’m being blamed. I did everything I could think of to get Mrs. Durning to stay on and since she’s been gone I’ve given up god knows how many hours of my time to sit through these interviews, trying to find a replacement. Short of having him locked up, I don’t see what more I can do.”

  Helen turned and stalked from the foyer into the library to stand in front of the massive window seat that looked out over the rose garden. Richard followed and took a seat in one of the leather wing chairs by the fireplace.

  “Perhaps we should consider contacting Charles and having the procedures initiated to place him in the sanitarium while we’re away,” Helen said without turning to look at him.

  Richard was silent for a long moment, his brow creased in a thoughtful frown. Helen turned to look at him. “Richard?”

  “Yes, yes, I heard you. However, I’m less than eager to open that particular can of worms again.”

  “Oh yes, of course. How foolish of me to think you might actually defy the dictates of that doddering old fool.”

  “My father has never been doddering or foolish, and I’ll thank you to remember that. I’ll also thank you to remember the possible repercussions of placing Maxwell in an institution. Not only that, but have you considered the press — the smear campaign we could face?”

  “I wasn’t suggesting he be permanently institutionalized. I was merely suggesting we consider the possibility for the summer. Upon our return, we can make more permanent arrangements—locate qualified personnel and so on.”

  Richard rose from his chair and glanced at his watch. “I disagree. The risk is too great. The way I see it, if this next interview doesn’t pan out, our options are reduced to either forgetting our plans or taking him with us.”

  “Well, I’ll not give up my plans! That’s not an option. God knows, after all I go through all year, all I sacrifice for him, the least I’m entitled to is a few short months of rest and relaxation. And taking him is completely out of the question. I won’t have my entire summer ruined because of your inability to secure appropriate help, and the demands of a senile old fool who would be far better off safely interred in a sanitarium himself. No, Maxwell stays here. If you choose to stay behind, that’s entirely up to you, but regardless of the situation, I will be on the plane to Paris, Friday morning — with or without you.”

  “I understand. If you’ll excuse me, I have some calls to make.” Richard quickly left the room before Helen had a chance to say more. Once out of earshot, he cut a glance back toward the library. The next interview had to work out or Helen the queen bitch would make sure his life was a living hell.

  Nikki slid into her normal booth and waved at Amy, one of the waitresses. With a fresh pot of coffee in one hand and balancing a tray on the other, Amy returned the greeting with a big smile. Nikki pulled her old laptop from her backpack, called up her file and started making comments for revisions and corrections on the paper she was writing.

  Someone sat down in the booth across from her. She looked up and smiled. It was Ben. She’d known and been close friends with him since she was a sophomore in college. Ben was working on his doctorate in computer technology and was one of the smartest people she’d ever known, as well as one of the most unusual. While he’d already been offered fantastic opportunities with most of the major research and development companies, he’d turned them all down until he finished his doctorate.

  If the truth be known, Ben was one of those people who wanted to put off working in the real world as long as possible. He had way too much fun indulging in his secret passion. Hacking. There probably wasn’t a system invented that could keep Ben out.

  “Find a job yet?” he asked, then turned to yell across the diner, “Hey Amy, some coffee when you get a sec. And how about two over easy with hash and toast?” He looked at Nikki. “You?”

  “Just toast,” she replied and closed her laptop. With Ben joining her for breakfast, it was a sure bet she wouldn’t get anything done on her paper.

  “Diet?”

  “Budget.”

  “It’s on me.”

  “Thanks, but toast is fine.”

  “Okay, have it your way.” Ben yelled out across the diner again, “And toast for Nikki!”

  “So.” He propped his arms on the table and grinned. “What’s up on the job front?”

  She shook her head, wishing he had chosen another topic of conversation. “Nothing. I've been on five interviews and either I don’t have enough experience or the right kind of experience, or I’m over qualified or under qualified. The only offer I’ve had is at a topless bar and I definitely don’t relish the idea of that.”

  “Man, you should’ve listened to Bill. He’s right you know, and not just because he’s top of his class, soon to be a legal eagle. That McDonald guy deserves to get nailed for what he did to you.”

  “Come on, Ben. We’ve been through this already. I can’t afford a lawyer, and I don’t have time to waste on some lawsuit. Besides, how is filing a sexual harassment suit gonna help me pay the rent? The way my luck runs, all I’d get is a rep as someone who’s trouble and have even a harder time getting a job. It’s the last thing I need. All I want from the guy is my last month’s pay.”

  “Has he agreed to pay you?”

  “No.”

  “Well, there you go.”

  Nikki put her elbows on the table and placed her hands over her face for a moment. “I know you’re trying to help but I just don’t see how a legal action will do any good. Particularly since my needs are immediate. I need a job. Now!”

 
“Hey, I’m sorry.” Ben reached out to pry her hands away from her face. “I wasn’t trying to piss you off or anything.”

  “I know.” She forced a smile. “It’s okay. I guess I’m just sort of feeling like I’m at the end of my rope, and not only is it frayed, but there’s a little demon somewhere above me with a blow torch.”

  Ben laughed and leaned back as the waitress arrived with their breakfast. While Nikki sipped coffee and nibbled toast, Ben bolted down his food and entertained her by relating his latest adventures in hacking. Even with talking nonstop, he was finished long before she’d eaten her toast. He leaned back with a contented burp and patted his flat stomach.

  “Well, gotta bolt. You gonna be around later? Rick and Tony and some of the guys are coming by. We’re gonna try out the modifications I made to Tony’s synthesizer.”

  “I don’t know, maybe.”

  “Well, come on down if you wanna.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Okay,” Ben stood and walked around the booth to lean over and kiss Nikki on the cheek. “Cheer up, okay? It’s gonna work out. Who knows, opportunity might be just around the next corner.”

  Nikki smiled up at him. “Yeah, sure. See you later.”

  Ben left and Nikki sipped at the remains of her coffee. Sometimes she could not help but wonder if her basic problem was that she just was not realistic enough. She used her energy in the pursuit of things that quite possibly did not exist, and she held out for a love that was probably just as much of a fantasy.

  Romantic love was not something she had much experience in. She’d had a few relationships but none of them had worked out.

  The closest to romance she’d ever known was with a professor, Christian Bernard. He was kind, caring, and interested in what she had to say. At first that was enough. But in time, the lack of passion she felt for him began to tear at the fabric of comfort she found with him.

  They’d been involved for almost a year when he gave her the pendant. She’d been surprised. Christian had never given her a gift, and this one was quite unusual. A small carved sphere of a silver metal, it was obviously old. He claimed it came from a find in the Middle East, from what was once known as Sumer.

  Due to the carvings, she was tempted to believe it. But that made it far too valuable for her and she told him as much. He’d insisted that she had to accept it and made her promise that she’d wear it always. She’d promised and since the day he looped the chain around her neck and she’d felt the sphere fall against her chest between her breasts, she hadn't removed it.

  She’d had the first dream that same night. A dream in which he came to her. Since that time, her nights had been filled with dreams of him. And the dreams had crept into her waking hours, presenting as fantasies so real that they obliterated reality.

  Nikki knew that she should remove the pendant. Take it somewhere and have it tested. But she couldn’t part with the dreams it brought her. Without them, her life would be empty.

  Which was a sad testament to her life. Yet she knew deep inside that the man in her dreams was the man for her. The man she’d give her heart, body, and soul to.

  She’d never confessed her dreams to anyone. That was far too personal. She’d confided to her best friend and ex-roommate, Cat, that she’d know when the right man came along. It would only take one look for her to know him.

  Cat told her that for a smart woman she sure was lost in fantasy. Nikki supposed Cat was right. What she wanted only existed in fairy tales, legends and, of course, romance novels.

  Shaking off that particular topic of thought, she looked around the diner. Most of the booths were empty, with the waitresses busy cleaning up after the morning rush. A handsome dark-haired man looked her way as she went behind the bar for the coffee decanter to refill her cup.

  “Want a refill?” she asked as she passed his table.

  “Please.” He lifted his cup.

  Nikki refilled it and returned the decanter to the bar. As she walked by the man’s table again, he stood.

  “Excuse me, but aren’t you Nikki Morgan, Professor Bernard’s graduate student?”

  Nikki was surprised. “How’d you know that?”

  The man gestured to the chair across from him. “Please.”

  She considered it a moment then and took a seat.

  “You know Chris—Professor Bernard?”

  “Yes, quite well actually. We did quite a bit of research together in the seventies.”

  “The 70s? If I remember right, he was in Jerusalem and the Middle East for most of—oh my god; you’re not Gaspar de Troyes, are you?”

  “At your service.” Gaspar smiled and nodded his head.

  Nikki grinned and extended her hand, pumping Gaspar’s enthusiastically. “This is a real honor. I mean, I’ve read everything you and Christian have ever written.”

  “Yes, that’s what Christian told me.”

  “You talked about me?” That made Nikki a little uncomfortable. She didn’t like the idea that Christian might say anything about their affair.

  Gaspar’s ash gray eyes seemed to bore into her, he watched her so closely. Nikki wondered just how much Christian had told him.

  “Christian is quite impressed with you. He mentioned your research several times.”

  “Really? Well, it’s all based on his—and your work.”

  “Yes, I know. Which is why I wanted to meet you.”

  “You? You mean this isn’t a chance meeting?”

  “I’m afraid you’ve caught me.” Gaspar laughed charmingly. “Christian told me you normally eat here.”

  She couldn’t help wondering what else Christian had revealed to Gaspar.

  “Considering who you are, I can’t imagine why you’d want to meet me.”

  Gaspar leaned forward, his eyes darkening to the color of a storm cloud before it releases its watery burden to the earth. “Because, my dear, I have something for you.”

  “Something for me? What?”

  “Something you need for your research.”

  Bells went off in her mental alarm system. What was he up to? If he’d spoken with Christian then he knew that what she wanted for her work was something she’d never have, something people had been in fruitless search of for thousands of years.

  “Oh really?” She tried to pretend she wasn’t suspicious. “And what might that be?”

  “Someone who can lead you to the proof you seek.”

  “Okay, that’s enough. Who are you and who put you up to this?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. Who are you? You can’t be Gaspar de Troyes or you wouldn’t have said what you did. And if you knew anything about de Troyes’, Christian’s or my work, you’d know that the things I’m looking for in all likelihood were destroyed thousands of years ago—even if any of them ever existed.”

  Gaspar laughed, a deep throaty laugh that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. Nikki looked at him in bewilderment. What kind of nut was this guy, anyway?

  “Bravo.” Gaspar clapped softly. “Christian told me you were a fiery one. Forgive me, but I couldn’t help myself. You see, there was a time when I, too, had a similar reaction. But believe me, Nikki, I am Gaspar de Troyes, this is no prank and I’m not delusional.”

  Nikki regarded him for a long moment. “Okay, let’s say I believe you. Why would you give me information that would lead me to such a discovery instead of using the information yourself?”

  Gaspar’s face lost its expression of genial amusement. “For that particular discussion, we would need a bit more privacy.”

  “I think this is plenty private enough.”

  Gaspar took a look around then lowered his voice. “Very well. If you insist.”

  Nikki crossed her arms over her chest and leveled her eyes with his. Gaspar leaned forward with his elbows on the table.

  “I’m sure you’re familiar with Newman’s work at Galway.”

  “Naturally.”

  “Yes, of course. Well, as you know,
his finds at Tara have been spectacular. They draw a direct parallel between the Danaan with the Annunaki that Sitchin wrote of. And the Stone of Ana found at Tara is believed to be the same as the stone of Luz, the same stone upon which Jacob laid upon his head and saw a ladder ascending into heaven.”

  “Excuse me, but this is old ground, as we both know if you’ve really spoken with Christian. I’ve read everything that’s been written on the topic, including the text written by your ancestor, Chrétien.”

  “Yes, I know that. However, what you may not know is that recently, thinking has changed in regard to the Blue Stones of Atlantis—at least in some circles. “

  “Oh yeah, right. I read a paper on it. Now it’s proposed that there’s a device into which the stones can be inserted. And in doing so, the powers of the stones are combined and magnified exponentially.”

  “Yes.”

  “I know all that. In fact, it’s in my paper. I’m using it as an example that the interaction of human consciousness with physical devices predates current theory, and that if science could locate an actual device of antiquity such as the Stones and their housing device, it might provide us with data that would aid in developing complementary theoretical models to give us a better understanding of the role of consciousness in the establishment of physical reality.”

  “But," Gaspar said, “what you could not know is that these researchers were funded by a very powerful and influential conglomerate who’s been engaged in a global search for the Stones for many years and that the head of this conglomerate lives in this very city.”

  Nikki perked up at the words. Gaspar lowered his voice more. “My dear, as a fellow seeker of holy antiquities, you know that throughout the ages many have claimed to have possessed or seen such artifacts. You and I, and other scholars and academics like us, are far from the only seekers. And there are those who would exploit the knowledge or power of such objects. The reason I sought you out is that I am part of a group who has sworn to prevent such exploitation and misuse of power, and to hopefully one day reveal the truth. To succeed in our quest, we must find out what the very powerful man who heads the opposition knows and what efforts are being made by his concern. And that is where you come in.”